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ARTES
LIBRARY
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SCIENTIA
VERITAS
OF THE
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TUEBOR
SAIS PORINGUĻAM AFINAM”
USCUNSPICE
GIFT OF
REGENT LLHUBBARD

Hubbard
Imag. Voy.
PR
3721
·R79
1869
V. I
[i.e.v.l, pt.13
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Edw. I. Eussell
THE
COMPLETE WORKS
OF
JONATHAN SWIF T.
PART I.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS

Engraved by S. Freeman
JONATHAN SWIFT, D.D.
Dean of Saint Patricks. Dublin,
THE
COMPLETE WORKS OF

JONATHAN SWIFT,
D.D., AND DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S, DUBLIN.
CONTAINING
INTERESTING AND VALUABLE PAPERS NOT HITHERTO PUBLISHED,
AND AN AUTOGRAPH LETTER.
WITH MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, EY THOMAS ROSCOE.
No Author in the British language has enjoyed the extensive popularity of the celebrated Dean of St. Patrick's.
SIR WALTER SCOTT,
VOLUME I.
PART I.
LONDON:
BELL AND DALDY, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1869.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I.
LIFE OF SWIFT
TRAVELS OF LEMUEL GULLIVER
A TALE OF A TUB
•
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS
PART I.
PAGE
ix
1
$2
125
A DISCOURSE ON THE OPERATION OF THE SPIRIT
133
•
JOURNAL TO STELLA
139
MEMOIRS RELATING TO THE CHANGE IN QUEEN ANNE'S MINISTRY IN 1710
277
A DISCOURSE ON THE CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS IN ATHENS AND ROME
283
THE EXAMINER
296

To the Renighe Pellicannons of
of the
Cathedral Church of St Patricks Dublin
The Memorial of Do John Hawtiſchen
Sheweth that the hand to hn Hawkshaw's Grandfather
said John
Endorsed
Aipozal
1717
with Dr Swift's Answer
For Hawk than's
about Lucan
1
did at his own expence after a tedious five years
love suit (wth amounted to the purchase of ye lands}
recover unto the Pelly cannons, the lands in Liccon
wt he now hold from you by lease of that he has
imexpird of his lease about forty two years
in
that on offers now to improve on pardos
Said land ich on heo or three acres provided the can
have the Encouragent of 60 years lease out
he will not lay out any money for Impro-
over, so
شته
Improve
can be of no benefit by zu Hawky how these
fifteen yeares,
his fisent under denn having aleas
of fifteen year
yeares,
geand to come thun
come th unex
nexpird.
Sve
The Jayda Hawks how offerrs at fine
for making his 42 years to come
agray the hemen of ten pounds sur
J
Lease
адли
that the Petticanors should renew the Docker Hawkerhast
as the following Conditions. For
си
First, that the Id Doctor Should immediatly advancs his Deal one
Ранд
#and.
of the present Lease thall be
Secondly that after twenty years more
expired, the Id Doctor shall advance two Pounds
apar
d
ann more;
?
Pindly that
the Exquivation of the present Lease the Id Docker
inali
twelve Pounds & ann, beside Receivers Feys, for the
Day
Recomand of the new Lease that thall shall be made to Hing
Lastly that the To Doctor shall imundially jay
way of Fine in Comfideration of the new Leap.
jay twelve Pairds
This Proposal made 1717.& rejected Imath Swift
by
LIFE AND WORKS OF JONATHAN SWIFT,
D.D. AND DEAN OF SAINT PATRICK'S, DUBLIN.
In the life and character of this extraordinary
man and incomparable English classic, some points
occur of so delicate and doubtful a nature, that a di-
versity of opinion must be expected always to exist.
respecting them; and some of such painful and un-
happy interest, that they never can be dwelt upon
without reluctance and regret. But of his singular
genius, his transcendant talents, and his varied at-
tainments, no question can be entertained; and by
the apparently incongruous combination, which per-
vades his writings and his conduct, of sound good
sense with piercing wit and whimsical eccentricity,
he nas transmitted to succeeding times more ample
stores, both of instruction and amusement, than any
other literary man of his age. The influence he ex-
ercised over his own times, by the unrivalled bril-
liancy of his powers, his masterly comprehension of
the great interests then at stake, in the fierce struggle
of irreconcilable parties, to both of which his prin-
ciples were in part opposed, and the dexterity with
which, in his caustic satires, he held up to public
view their respective errors, have scarcely been esti-
mated at their real value. His was a mind that be-
longed less to a party than to mankind; endowed
with a firmness and a pride that prompted him in
every situation to maintain an independent attitude.
Supported by these feelings, he attained the highest
eminence to which an individual in the ranks of
private life can aspire, as the counsellor of the first
ministers of state, and the strenuous supporter of the
rights and interests of his fellow-men-and without
them it is impossible that he could have acquired
that political ascendancy which he undoubtedly en-
joyed, or won that popular renown which rewarded
his zealous and unwearied exertions for the peace,
freedom, and religion of his country.
The leading characteristics of this great man's
mind are strikingly manifested throughout his
works in the astonishing efforts which he made to
show mankind the causes of their corruption and
degradation, and to teach the people in what con-
sisted their weakness and their strength; in the
grief and indignation with which he beheld their
sufferings; and in the benevolence with which he'
sought to inspire them with a firm confidence in
their means of ultimate emancipation. It is not
surprising that a man of Swift's lofty wisdom, exact
knowledge of human nature, and keen political sa-
gacity, should have despised the extremes of party,
and yet at the same time, by his surpassing wit and
talents, should have extorted the admiration and
homage of men of all ranks and all opinions. The
most celebrated men of their age. poets and politi-
cians-Bolingbroke and Oxford, Pope, Addison, and
Arbuthnot-freely acknowledged the superiority of
that master intellect which possessed so merited a
power, so strange and fascinating an influence, in
directing at once the destinies of a ministry and a
people, the fortunes of his private friends, or a revo-
lution in the public mind. It is perhaps the proud-
est triumph of his genius that the best and greatest
men have borne the strongest testimony to his merits
and to the extent of his political and literary fame.
The language in which he is addressed by the most
VOL. I.
distinguished persons in every class, the learned and
the witty, the great and the noble, the fashionable
and the gay, carries sufficient evidence of the many
estimable and engaging qualities by which such ge-
neral affection and respect must have been attracted
and secured.
But the happier period of his life, the splendid
reign of a brilliant intellect, during which he reaped
the abundant harvest of his celebrity and worth,
basking in the siniles of that favour which he so much
coveted, and making it his delight to honour and
promote his friends, of whatever party they might
be, was destined to have but too brief an existence.
His day of life grew dark almost before its noon.
The morning had risen amidst lowering clouds,
through which the beams of his genius broke slowly,
till they reached their meridian power; and his
evening went down with an eclipse so dark as
strongly to impress on the mind the frail tenure of
those great endowments which not even the loftiest
genius or the purest moral worth can permanently
ensure to their possessor.
Jonathan Swift was descended from an ancient
and highly respectable family of the same name in
Yorkshire; of which the elder branch, in the person
of Barnham Swift, acquired titles of nobility, dating
the 20th March, 1627, as the viscounts Carlingford,
&c.; but Barnham dying without issue, they again be-
came extinct in the same generation. The younger
branch was represented by the rev. Thos. Swift, vicar
of Goodrich and proprietor of a small estate in Here-
fordshire, eminently distinguished in his day for
his chivalric loyalty and attachment to the cause of
Charles I., in which he is stated to have suffered
more than any person of his condition in England.
For this devotion, almost to martyrdom (and com-
plete martyrdom of estate), his memory was greatly
revered by his celebrated grandson, who contem-
plated writing a regular memoir of this doughty
loyalist, assisted by his friend doctor John Lyon;
and from this circumstance it is not improbable that
the stern unflinching spirit of the clergyman had its
effect in exciting the lofty magnanimity and courage
so conspicuous in his descendant, and perhaps in
determining his choice of a profession. There are
.3
the same traits of daring in both-the fidelity and
resolution which constitute the martyr; for we are
told that this loyal parson was plundered by the
roundheads no less than six-and-thirty times, yet
contrived to secrete 300 broad pieces of gold, with
which he made his escape to Ragland castle and
presented them to the governor; an action, says his
great descendant, which must be allowed to be the
more extraordinary as it was performed by a private
clergyman, with a very numerous family, of small
estate, who had been often plundered and was de-
prived of his livings in the church. Also, in his
Journal to Stella (Letter 42), Swift expresses the
• As appeared from a memorandum, labelled by Swift, with
his own haud, " Memoirs of my grandfather, Thomas Swift,
by Mr. Lyon, April, 1738.' The portion compiled consisted
of an account of the suffer ngs of the family in the royalcanse,
&e
b. “Anecdotes of the Family of Swit," MS., T. C. D., written
by Jonathan Swift, D. SP D.
b
Χ
LIFE AND WORKS OF
strong interest he felt in all that related to his stout-who, out of strong affection, without the knowledge
hearted predecessor's family. "O, pray, now I
think of it, be so kind to step to my aunt and take
notice of my great-grandfather's picture; you know
he has a ring on his finger with a seal of an anchor
and a dolphin about it; but I think there is besides
at the bottom of the picture the same coat of arms
quartered with another which I suppose was my great-
grandmother's. If this be so, it is a stronger argu-
ment than the seal. And pray see whether you
think that coat of arms was drawn at the same time
with the picture, or whether it be of a later hand;
and ask my aunt what she knows about it. But
perhaps there is no such coat of arms on the picture,
and I only dreamt it. My reason is because I would
ask some herald here whether I should choose that
coat or one in Guillim's large folio of heraldry, where
my uncle Godwin is named with another coat of
arms of three stags. This is sad stuff to write, so
good night, MĎ." What is more, Swift raised a
monument to his bold ancestor's memory, and also
presented a cup to the church of Goodrich or Gothe-
ridge. He had a drawing made of the monument,
which he forwarded to obtain the opinion of his
friend Mrs. Howard, who, having shown it to
Fope, returned it with the following humorous
lines written by that accomplished wit.
The paper
is endorsed in Swift's hand, "Model of a monument
for my grandfather, with Mr. Pope's roguery:
"JONATHAN Swift
Had the gift,
By fatherige, motherige,
And by brotherige.
To come from Gutherige,
But now is spoil'd clean,
And an Irish dean.
In this church he has put
A stone of two foot;
With a cup and a can, sir,
In respect to his grandsire.
So, Ireland, change thy tone,
And cry, O hone! O hone!
For England hath its own."
This nold church militant married Elizabeth Dry-
den, sister to the father of John Dryden the poet.
By this lady he had no fewer than ten sons and four
daughters; and, dying in 1658, was succeeded by
bis eldest son Godwin, then a barrister of Gray's-
inn, who, by his matrimonial connexion with the
noble family of Ormond, was subsequently raised to
the attorney-generalship of the palatinate of Tip-
perary. This successful beginning induced other
members of the family to follow him to Ireland, and
among these four brothers was Jonathan Swift, the
father of the celebrated dean. He also had been
brought up to the law, and doubtless would have ac-
quired a handsome independence; but, with the
fatality which seemed to be prepared for his great
but unfortunate son, even before his birth, he was
cut off within two years after his marriage, in April
1667. His widow (of a Leicestershire family named
Erick) was thus left with an only daughter, and
pregnant of another child, with a slender provision
not exceeding twenty pounds a-year, purchased
during her husband's lifetime in England. It was
necessary that the elder brother Godwin should do
something to increase this stipend; but owing to an
unhappy disposition for speculation (another name,
according to Swift, for indolence and avarice) he
did as little as he could, and she gave birth to this
posthumous child, under no pleasing or promising
circumstances, about seven months after her hus-
band's death; and thus inauspiciously was ushered
into the world the celebrated dean of St. Patrick's,
on the 30th of November, 1667, at the house No. 7,
Hoey's-court, Dublin.
One of the first events of this great man's history
seemed to partake of the strangeness and vicissitudes.
which marked his subsequent fortunes, for when
only a year old he was spirited away-not by fairies,
but by his English nurse, a native of Whitehaven,
even of his mother, conveyed the young Jonathan to
England, whither she was summoned by a dying
relative.ª So attached was she to her charge, that
she taught him to spell even at three years old, and
at five he was able to read any chapter in the bible.
It was not till his sixth year that the little Jonathan
was reconducted to Ireland, his mother having pre-
ferred that he should remain in England to the
risk of another voyage. Almost immediately on
his return he was sent by his uncle Godwin to the
school of Kilkenny, where he remained eight years,
and was admitted on the 24th of April, 1682, a pen-
sioner in the university of Dublin, with the advan-
tage however of being placed under the judicious
tuition of Dr. St. George Ashe, afterwards bishop of
Dromore.
The first proof, perhaps, given by the celebrated
dean of his sterling wit and strong sense was the
decided repugnance he evinced for the scholastic
learning then so much in fashion, and still abound-
ing with so many absurdities retained from the old
collegiate system of education. The under-graduate
course especially was then confined almost wholly
to the works of the Stagirite, or those of his com-
mentators, including the sophistic jargon of Burger-
discius, Smiglecius, and their followers.
We are
not surprised that such studies were little congenial
with that love of undisguised truth, and that clear
bold assertion of it in its naked strength and majesty,
which formed so striking a feature in Swift's cha-
racter. His refusal to sully his mind and pervert his
intellect by entering such absurd and thorny laby-
rinths showed that he possessed an understanding
as well as genius in advance of the age in which he
lived, and which distinguished him in all the memo-
rable events and trying junctures of his future life.
But how easily he could have mastered Kecher-
mannus, and shone, no mean star, in the old logical
treatises, appeared by his repetition of the logical
queries propounded to him (says Sheridan) many
years afterwards; and yet, to crown the solemn jest
of the collegiate doctors, the most truly profound
logician and close arguer of his times was stopped
on first presenting himself, as he humorously ex-
presses it, "for dulness and insufficiency," and of
course failed to take his degree of bachelor of arts.
To have been condemned for contumacy would have
come perhaps nearer to the mark; for, according to
his own account, he was so disgusted at the stupidity
of the scholastic treatises that he never had patience
to go through three pages of any of them. At the
first public examination he refused to reply to the
senseless jargon propounded to him; and when
urged by his tutor to make himself master of this
special branch of metaphysic science, he is stated to
have inquired what it was he was to learn from those
books?" The art of reasoning, to be sure,
was the
answer; on which Swift observed that he found no
want of any such art; that he could reason without
it; and that, as far as he could observe, it had the
effect of teaching men to wrangle rather than to
reason; and, instead of clearing up obscurities,
seemed to perplex matters that were in themselves
sufficiently clear. It was his wish to employ
the reason which God had given him, which he
would leave to time and experience to strengthen
and direct, nor run the risk of having it warped or
falsely biassed by any system of rules so arbitrarily
and absurdly laid down. He considered his objec-
tions founded on truth and principle, resolutely
adhered to them, and devoted his time to history
"
Swift has oddly observed that he was brought over to
England by his nurse in a land-box, &c. &c. &c.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
and poetry: yet to pass muster he so far mas-
tered the terms, that when he went into the hall
a second time he passed his examination; but, it
is recorded, only through the influence of his
friends. It was inserted in the college register that
he obtained his degree speciah gratià, a circumstance
which, in reference to his unfortunate position in
other respects, must have secretly excited his anger
and contempt, more particularly if we consider that
his reading was at this time extensive and various,
and that he had already sketched out his first mas-
try and imitable production of "The Tale of a
Tub." It was most probably in this mood that the re-
fractory student-who finally showed how easily he
could master collegiate sophistries-lent his aid to a
production cutitled the "Tripos," a satirical piece,
delivered in a speech at a common court in the uni-
versity of Dublin, July 11, 1688, by Mr. John Jones,
but attributed by Richardson and Dr. Barrett to
Swift's own pen.
Scott however hazards the more
probable opinion that only a few satirical strokes
were inserted to enliven the dulness of Jones's
tirade, or his duller companion's wit; and it has
certainly not that vehement and sustained power of
avective so remarkable in Swift's earlier satirical
effusious, and most of any, in that splendid emana-
tion of wit which stands without equal or rival in
our language.
The three following years Swift passed at college,
rather from necessity than from choice, under very
depressing circumstances, dependent on the small
precarious bounty of his uncle, little known, it has
been observed, and less regarded. By collegiate
sophists and pedagogues he was in fact looked upon
as a blockhead ; and it would seem that he returned
the compliment with interest, and, by his own admis-
sion, inserted in "The Tale of a Tub," was medi-
tating at the very time "An Account of the King-
dom of Absurdities." This design, like "The Tale of
a Tub," he may probably have communicated to the
authors of the " Tripos," and to other refractory
students who had wit enough to enter into his views
of the existing routine of scholastic education. It
was shown, it is said, to his friend Mr. Waryng
(though this is denied by the able Mr. Mason),
among the few whose society he appears at this
time to have cared to cultivate, and who were evi-
dently under the collegiate ban-not for any open
disorders, as was erroneously alleged, but for their
too keen observation and satirical disposition; the
The wise collegians, perhaps, regarded the rude inscription
of his name in schoolboy fashion upon his form, and still
shown to strangers, as an additional proof of his want of logic.
Some amusing instances are given by Mr. Mason of the efforts
made by Swift's enemies to deprive him of the honour of writ-
ing the Tale of a Tub"-not excepting Johnson and the dean's
little parson cousin, of whom he says "I should be glad to see
how far the foolish impudence of a dunce could go:" and chal-
lenges any person to prove his claim to three lines in the whole
book:"Let him step forth and tell his name and titles; upon
which the bookseller shall have orders to prefix them to the
next edition, and the claimant shall from henceforward be
acknowledged the undisputed author." The late William
Hazlitt's remarks on this production are very excellent:-" The
Tale of a Tub" is one of the most masterly compositions in the
language, whether for thought, wit, or style. It is so capital
and undeniable a proof of the author's talents, that Dr. Johnson,
who did not like Swift, would not allow that he wrote it. It is
hard that the same performance should stand in the way of a
man's promotion to a bishopric as wanting gravity, and at the
same time be denied to be his as having too much wit. It is a
pity the doctor did not find out some graver author for whom he
felt a critical kindness, on whom to father this splendid but
unacknowledged production." (Lecture vi., delivered at the
Surrey Institution.)
·
It is well known that Johnson in his private conversation fre-
juently insinuated that Swift was not the author. "I doubt.'
he says. "if the Tale of a Tub' was his. it has so much more
thinking, more knowledge, more power, more colour, than any
of the works which are indisputably h's: if it was his, I shall
only say he was 'impar sibi.' (“Tour to the Hebrides.")
indulgence of which led to the frequent suspension
of some, and to the expulsion of others.
ors.
Few situations in life can be imagined more pain-
ful than that of Swift about this period-smarting
under supposed humiliations-stern, high-minded-
Leginning to be conscious of his own vast expansive
talents, original genius, and inimitable wit, as al-
ready manifested in his first satirical outbreaks.
The narrowness of his circumstances was such as to
forbid his joining the society of those equal to him
in birth and family; and the proud student, scorning
every kind of obligation from the higher, with a
magnanimous principle declined to associate with
those of an inferior grade. Hence he lived much
alone; and it is curious to observe how, from the
opening of his splendid career, every circumstance
seems to have combined to foster and develop the
peculiar genius and the stern unflinching rectitude
of character which impressed the proudest ministers
of state and his greatest adversaries with a deference
amounting to awe. It would appear as if every
fresh obstacle, every great disappointment, served
only to strengthen the native vigour and powers of
his extraordinary mind; and to fit him for the exer
cise of those irresistible qualities which influenced
the fate of nations, gave peace and security to Great
Britain after a long and calamitous war, and first
emancipated Ireland from the bitter curse of slavery,
in teaching her how successfully to resist her oppress-
Had not this truly great man-distinguished
even more for his knowledge of mankind, and his
rast talents to comprehend every question connected
with the interests of humanity and civil polity, than
for his original genius- been thus early debarred the
advantages attending birth and fortune possessed by
his ancestors, received the niggardly support of a
distressed relative, and been thrown early upon the
resources of his own mind, the world might long have
wanted the entertainment,-England the advantage
and the honour, -and Ireland the political regenera-
tion,-which they have derived from the wondrous
powers of the calumniated dean of St. Patrick's. It
is evident from his own words, as well as from every
circumstance in his future career, that the events of
his early life had remarkable influence upon his
future success and celebrity; for, while a poor and
distressed student, interested in courting the appro-
bation of his tutor and the masters of the college, he
had sufficient veneration for truth and the love of
sound philosophy and learning, to scorn to load his
lofty mind and vigorous intellect with the falsifying
and exploded doctrines of the schools. It was this
pertinacious love of truth and integrity which, in the
opinion of his early and best biographers, did him so
much honour; instead of being-as stated by John-
son and his abject followers, who felt obscured by
superior powers and influence of genius like the
dean's a source of ignominy and disgrace.
The death of Swift's uncle Godwin, of a family
disorder, it is stated-the loss of speech, and lethargy,
very similar to that which carried off the illustrious
dean—and the discovery of his embarrassed affairs,
left the poor student unprovided for, deprived at
once of the allowance which his misguided and un-
fortunate uncle could ill afford. His known hatred
to schemes and projects was derived, or at least
strengthened, by the misfortunes of the elder branch
of his family, and a humorous anecdote is related
that, when an old sea-captain once told the dean
that he had discovered the longitude, he was advised
to take care that he did not get out of his latitude,
and to take example by his uncle and so many
others, whose fate, if he did not look to it, would be
the old captain's. In fact the sterling good sense
and worldly knowledge of the future dean could
2
xij
LIFE AND WORKS OF
never hear the merits of this hopeful head of the
family descanted upon with any patience; he justly
considered that he had weakly brought discredit and
disgrace upon the humbler brauches of his own
name and family, if not consigned them to hopeless.
obscurity and poverty by his follies. It is no wonder
that he never loved or could bear the mention of one
with whom his early humiliation and sufferings were
so closely associated; and those who have experienced
the strange depressing power and the heartfelt torture
of misfortune, doomed to receive a scanty and stinted
allowance from the hands of distant relatives-per-
haps themselves hardly less distressed-can conceive
the nature of the torments which racked the bosom
of the high and independent minded Swift. So
painful indeed was the retrospect, that he sought to
fly "wide as the poles asunder" from all recurrence
to family relations; they were the nightmare on the
otherwise peaceful slumbers of his youth, on his
hopes, his future happiness, and perhaps the amenity
of his genius; for in the noonday of his brilliant
powers no one was more eulogised, even by his most
powerful enemies, for his good nature, courtesy, and
obliging disposition. Yet unfortunately so early in
life was the finer feeling of gratitude benumbed, that
the grand wisdom and mighty heart which would
have regenerated and embraced the world, in the
spirit of beneficence which dictated his writings,
(when rightly interpreted and understood,) were
arrested at the source, and, like a wound bleeding
inwardly, gave no sign of the pain and suffering to
the eye.
In the words of a great poet he might truly
have exclaimed, under the distressing circumstances
by which he was surrounded, often a prey to gloomy
meditations, to grief, indignation, and regret, when
joined in his solitary chamber by the few eccentric
or refractory spirits who sought for its own sake the
wit and social charm gleaming through the mental
gloom-
"When from the heart where sorrow sils
Her dusky shadow mounts too high,
And on the changing aspect flits
And clouds the brow or fills the eye;
Heed not that gloom which soon shall sink,-
My thoughts their dungeon know too well,
Back to my breast the wanderers shrink
And droop within their silent cell.
BYRON.
Yet there can be little doubt it was only by this
ordeal of dependence, self-control, and unavoidable
submission to circumstances, that Swift attained
some of those qualities which raised him to an in-
tellectual eminence from which he directed the policy
of the ablest statesmen of his day, arrested the tide
of public opinion, stripped the most popular Whigs,
even Marlborough, of their hard-won power, and
swayed the heart and passions of "the fierce demo-
cracy" to attain the particular object which he had
in view.
The sense of his forlorn condition at this period
was in some measure removed by the manner in
which his uncle, William Swift, supplied the place
of a guardian after the death of Godwin. The assist-
ance he received was conferred with a better grace,
and is said to have so far called forth the young stu-
dent's acknowledgments as to obtain for him the title
of the best of his relations. Yet the stipend was not
increased though he had attained his twentieth year,
and being barely adequate to support existence, he
naturally turned his thoughts with some anxiety to
his cousin Willoughby, the eldest son of Godwin
Swift, then engaged in mercantile business at Lisbon.
He appears to have been kindly disposed; nor was
Swift's reliance upon his friendship misplaced, for
no sooner was the merchant aware of his father's
death than he sent by a trusty hand a sum to his
cousin considerably larger than he had ever beheld
at one time. It could not have arrived more season-
ably the lonely student, without a penny, was gazing
wistfully from his chamber window, when soon his
eye was attracted by the garb of a sea-faring man,
who by his manner seemed to be making inquiries
for some particular chamber. The thought instantly
flashed across his mind that it might be for him; he
saw him enter the building, and soon had the joy of
hearing a rap at the door and beholding a packet in
the man's hand. "Is your name Jonathan Swift ?"
was the first inquiry. "Yes, it is." "Then I have
something for you from master Swift at Lisbon," at
the same time displaying a large leathern bag, and
pouring out the silver contents upon the table. Swift
in the first transports of his joy pushed a number
towards the sailor; but the honest tar refused to
take any, declaring at the same time "that he
would do more than that for good master Willough-
by." This was the first time that Swift's disposition
with regard to money manifested itself; and if we
reflect upon the straits to which he was sometimes
reduced at college, there was both good feeling and
generosity in his offer so liberally to reward the cou-
veyer of glad tidings, and assuredly nothing to coun-
tenance the charges of a mean or covetous disposition
advanced by lord Orrery and other envious maligners
of his just fame. At the same time he himself ob-
served of this special favour of an all-wise Providence,
that, instead of elating him, the reflection of his con-
stant sufferings through the want of money made
him husband the gift so well that he was never after-
wards without something in his purse.
Before accompanying the lonely and intractable
student into the world it will be proper, if not inter-
esting, to notice several other little calumnies which,
commencing with the microscopic powers of lord
Orrery, time and envious malice have magnified
through the darkened glass of the sour and evil-
Areading Johnson, who invariably most grudges his
praise to the best and greatest characters, with a bold
assertion and authority which warped even the clear
vision and fair-judging criticism of sir W. Scott.
Nearly all these charges are given upon the presunied
evidence of the college records, which not one of
these writers seems to have examined; and the entire
account of scholastic insubordination, and of the
degradation and punishments to which Swift was
subjected, confessedly rests upon an inference drawu
by the ingenious Dr. Barrett after a presumed ex-
Upon such a
amination of the college registers.
supposition, so eagerly adopted, was the absurd ques-
tion first raised, and the mighty, heinous, yet ill-
founded charges brought against the collegiate cha-
racter and conduct of Swift, put into a formal state-
ment, which even if fully substantiated ought as-
suredly to be considered less disgraceful than it is
amusing.
amusing. As a fair specimen of the whole, it is
gravely asserted that no record of penal infliction
occurs until a special grace for the degree of bachelor
of arts conferred on him on the 18th of February,
1685-6; and yet the terms speciali gratiá are, in
the opinion of an ingenious correspondent of sir W.
Scott, only those frequently made use of upon the
formal admission of able candidates before the usual
term; and so would vanish the "penal infliction,'
were it not made much more ludicrously penal and
repeated many times over-with the exception of Dr.
Sheridan, who says not a word of humiliation, dis-
grace, or kneeling for pardon before the junior dean
-by Swift's numerous biographers. It will at least
not be unentertaining, if not edifying, to present both
sides of the question and leave it to the reader to
draw his own inference, like Dr. Barrett, simply re-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xif
|
questing him to bear in mind that the author of the
"Tale of a Tub" was not quite the senseless block-
head and poor-spirited delinquent which it has been
so studiously sought to make him appear. Dr.
Barrett's inferred account, as embodied by sir Walter
Scott, is to this solemn purport, not very unlike an
arraignment before the high-court of Lilliput, or
some heavy charge brought by one of the high-heels
against the low-heels:-" The disgraceful note with
which his degree had been granted probably added
to Swift's negligence and gave edge to his satirical
propensities. Between the periods of November 14th,
1685, and October 8th, 1687, he incurred no less.
than seventy penalties for non-attendance at chapel;
for neglecting lectures, for being absent from the even-
ing roll-call, and for town haunting, which is the
academical phrase for absence from college without li-
cence. At length these irregularities called forth a more
solemn censure, for on March 18th, 1686-7, with his
cousin Thomas Swift, his chum Mr. Warren, and four
others, he incurred the disgrace of a public admoni-
tion for a notorious neglect of duties. His second
public punishment was of a nature yet more degrad-
ing. On November 20th, 1688, Swift, the future
oracle of Ireland, was by a sentence of the vice-pro-
vost and senior fellows of the university, convicted
of insolent conduct towards the junior dean (Owen
Lloyd), and of exciting dissension within the walls
of the college. He shared with two companions the
suspension of his academical degree, and two of the
delinquents, Swift being one, were further sentenced
te crave public pardon of the junior dean. The
bitterness of spirit with which Swift submitted to
this despotic infliction, if indeed he ever obeyed it
-for of this there is no absolute proof-may be
more easily conceived than described. The sense
of his resentment shows itself in the dislike which
he exhibits to his Alma Mater, the Trinity college
of Dublin, and the satirical severity with which he
persecutes Dr. Owen Lloyd, the junior dean, before
whom he had been ordained to make this unworthy
prostration." (Scott's "Life of Swift," vol. i. p. 23.)
The unworthiness, we think there is little doubt,
would be found to be on the side of the calumniators
of Swift's early life and conduct while at college, or
we must otherwise consider it an extraordinary fact
almost a phenomenon in literary history-that while
the writers of his own time, even his most invete-
rate enemies and his first biographers, make no men-
tion of these dreadful indignities and prostrations,
which they would have been too happy to do, it
was reserved for the writers of an after-age to dis-versity." (See note to Scott's "Life.")
cover those minute spots and shades in the solar orb
which the nearer vision and closer inspection of con-
temporary enemies and traducers of Addison,
Steele, and the utterers of Walpole's ingenious forge-
-ies, and those of his creatures, to deprive the dean
of his character for honour and integrity could
never enable them to see. How came it that events
so recent, alleged to be so disgraceful, which on Swift's
rapid rise must have formed the darling topic and
common scandal both of colleges and courts, and
given a zest to the malignant sneers of his titled ene-
mies whom he had stung to the quick—his envious
literary revilers were never keen-sighted enough
to discover; nor had witty malignity enough to in-
vent these, along with the other calumnies circulated
by his political enemies?
yet afterwards concludes with the broad declaration
that he had been ordained to make this unworthy
prostration before the junior dean. Now what says
an able and enlightened correspondent of the great
biographer, whose arguments, if not well founded, are
at least ingenious? He brings forward reasons bor-
rowed from Dr. Barrett's "Life of Swift" itself, upon
which the whole of these stupid and trumpery calum-
nies as to punishment have been founded, to prove
exactly the contrary. Nay, he distinctly points out
that from Dr. Barrett's own "Life" of the dean it
appears that he graduated above a year before the
usual time, which in Trinity college, Dublin, is four
years and a half; and therefore that speciali gratiá
must mean that he got it by merit, or if it was
afterwards suspended, as Dr. B. suggests, it might
have been restored to him on intercession of friends.
But there appears little to countenance the suppo-
sition that he was ordered to beg pardon upon his
knees, and nothing to warrant the assertion that he
submitted to such an indignity, as there is no trace
of his remaining in college after the Revolution, which
is the date Dr. Barrett assigns for that censure.
So much for the accurate examination of Dr. Bar-
rett, and for the evidences upon which to rest the
fine-spun theory of humiliation and disgrace, so
pleasing to modern critics and to that inherent but
not very honest desire, of pulling down in one age
the idol which the fiat of contemporary opinion and
the general assent of mankind have raised up in
another. Besides, it always flatters our self-love to
depreciate excellence which we cannot reach; and
it is difficult to elucidate and expose these ingenious
inquiries into Swift's failings, of which the motives,
it is evident, are to raise us in our own good opinion,
and lessen the feelings of respect and veneration we
should otherwise cherish with our belief in the sur-
passing powers, the vigour of mind, and original
genius of this extraordinary man.
We have shown that sir W. Scott qualifies his
assertion of Swift's prostration with a cautious IF,
Their names may be inferred to have been Nathaniel Jones
and John Jones, supposed authors of the "Tripos" (though Swift
was the Teriæ Filius Mishael Vandeleur and William Brere
tuit.
"The dates, moreover," continues Dr. Barrett's
refuter, "are very confused and contradictory as to
the two Swifts; and while he allows Thomas Swift
to have had a scholarship, and suspects that Jonathan
had not, he forgets that very few ever remain in
Trinity college, Dublin, after graduating, unless
they enjoy scholarships; and that Jonathan Swift
had one appears further from his remaining in com-
mons, and being, according to Dr. B., suspended
from commons by way of punishment, after gradu-
ating, which could be no punishment at all to him
if his commons were not at the charge of the uni-
If further testimony were wanting to overthrow
the brittle fabric of these idle old wires' tales of the
dean's early degeneracy, and the strange freaks and
vagaries which so long possessed him of running his
head against the walls of his college, and frighting
the ancient deans and proctors from out their pro-
priety, it is to be found in a letter from Richardson
to lady Bradshaigh, dated April 22nd, 1752, in
which he says, "I am told my lord Orrery is mis-
taken in some of his facts; for instance, in that
wherein he asserts that Swift's learning was a late
acquirement. I am very well warranted by the son
of an eminent divine, a prelate, who was three years
what is called his chum, in the following account of
that fact. Dr. Swift made as great progress in his
learning at the university of Dublin in his youth as
any of his contemporaries." Leaving, however,
these knotty points, with Dr. Barrett, to conjecture,
it may be admitted that nothing short of college dis-
cipline and the heavy yoke of dependence could
sufficiently have restrained Swift's stern and haughty
spirit, by placing over him those two unflinching
xir
LIFE AND WORKS OF
guardians, poverty and pride, during the most dan-
gerous period of his life. They taught him early
how to regulate his mind and passions, to inure
himself to thought and toil, and by calm reading
and meditations on history and living manners to
prepare himself for the distinguished part he was
destined to perform. That such a character could
at the same time have been that of a low college re-
probate, brawler, and haunter of obscure taverns,
rather exceeds the bounds of human belief, espe-
cially when it is admitted that there is such extreme
confusion in regard to dates and the names of the
two cousins as to have given rise to erroneous state-
ments in other respects. On the breaking out of
the civil broils in Ireland, Swift, then in his twenty-
first year, left that kingdom to visit his mother at
Leicester, anxious to consult with her in regard to
his future prospects. On reaching England he
proceeded on foot, his usual mode of travelling from
the commencement of his career, to his mother's
dwelling, without friends, interest, or money-cir-
cumstances, however, to which we perhaps owe the
future author of Gulliver, whom affluence might at
once have made a contented bishop or a renowned
professor. He had now the pain of beholding his
mother almost wholly dependent on the precarious
bounty of friends. With her he remained some
months, and she judiciously advised him without
hesitation to communicate his circumstances to sir
William Temple, the distinguished statesman, who
had married one of her relations.a This advice
Swift resolved without longer delay to pursue, and
accordingly again set off on foot for Sheen, at which
seat the most accomplished scholar and the wisest
as well as most experienced man of his times was
then residing, aloof from the intrigues and corrup-
tions of a court. Sir William received him not only
with his usual urbanity and politeness, but with
great kindness, of which the fact of Swift's first resi-
dence with him during a space of two years-how-
ever annoying it may have proved, in regard to trivial.
circumstances, to one of his irritable disposition and
pride-may be considered as a sufficient proof. His
story was heard with compassionate attention, and
his sensible compliance with his mother's wishes, in
submitting his natural pride to the dictates of duty-
his dignified and self-respecting manner, together
with his friendless position-all appealed to the good
feeling and generosity of a man like sir William
Temple.b In this elegant retreat, where he was
comparatively his own master, free from the arbi-
trary surveillance and little inquisitorial rules of
college life, Swift found what was most valuable to
him-sound advice to direct the prosecution of his
studies, refined society and conversation, leisure for his-
torical researches and undisturbed reflections. With a
zeal and resolution almost unprecedented in the an-
nals of study, and only equalled by the fire and vigour
e It was during this visit that Swift's first love affair occurred.
He became enamoured of a miss Betty Jones, afterwards Mrs.
Perkins, of the George inn, Loughborough. (See his letters to
Mr. Kendall and Mr. Worrall.)
of his native genius, Swift recommenced his system
of self-education upon a more regular and enlarged
plan than any pursued by the sophistical heads of a
college, and extended it from poetry and history, long
his favourite pursuits, to other important branches
of human learning, which he now prosecuted with
an avidity necessary to every great writer; surpass-
ing that attributed to Cervantes, Rabelais, Molière,
and Pope; and with an unremitting assiduity in
accordance with his more happy and improved cir-
cumstances. From the more known and read he
extended his inquiries to the more abstruse and
laborious writers; and, it is said, had the courage
to encounter the profundities of Cyprian and Ire-
næus. No wonder the first interruption of these
studious habits and intense application was the recur-
rence of a disorder which had attacked him at a still
earlier period of life, attributed by him to a surfeit of
fruit that induced a peculiar coldness of stomach,
giddiness, and momentary loss of recollection-
symptoms of the same disorder of which his uncle
Godwin had died. His complaint becar e so violent
that he was advised by his physician to try the bene-
fit of his native air, but, receiving no advantage
from the change, he returned to sir William Temple's,
who had meanwhile removed to Moor-park, near
Farnham. Here he met with the utmost sympathy
from its distinguished owner, who obtained for him
fresh advice; and Swift was enjoined to take more
constant and more violent exercise, which he daily
practised by running up a hill, it is said, near the house,
and back again, every two hours; the distance being
about half a mile, which he used to perform in less
than six minutes. It is not surprising that, afflicteri
with a disorder of so dangerous and tormenting a
nature, which gradually increased until it terminate d
in total debility and prostration of mind, he should
snatch at any chance that offered to relieve him from
so disagreeable a companion. But, with all due
deference to medical knowledge, the writer of this
may observe as a curious fact, having been a perse-
vering pedestrian in his day, that the only unplea-
sant symptom of which he, in common with all other
peripatetics whom he met, had reason to complain,
was an occasional giddiness and a sense of coldness
and weakness of the stomach after long-continued
exertion. Now, if it is recollected that the dean was
not only a determined student and a most rapid
writer, by fits and starts, amidst all the turmoil of
court visits, literary patronage, and state councils,
but that he was, on economic principle and by the
advice of his physicians, accustomed to perform all
his long journeys (each of hundreds of miles) on foot,
it is no forced or unfounded theory to assume that
he either contracted or greatly aggravated the dis-
order with which he was afflicted, by the means he
was advised to take for its removal. If a cause like
this, or that of having eaten an improper quantity of
fruit, is adequate to account for the affliction with
which throughout life he was visited, it seems as
violent as it is a harsh and unjustifiable supposition
to attribute such a misfortune to early immoral ex-
cesses. Yet there are men who, in accordance with
the system of defamation pursued, have not scrupled
to insult the memory of Swift, and to vilify that
great and moral character which extorted the au-
miration of his worst enemies, and won the applause
and veneration of his friends, by the magnanimity
with which he provided for and protected his poli-
tical adversaries, when provoked by their ingratitude
almost beyond human endurance to "whistle them
down the winds, a prey to fortune." It is mortify-
ing to reflect that, in order to account for a certain
eccentricity of conduct usually found to accompany
The statement made by a nephew of sir William and re-
peated by sir W. Scott and some other biographers, that Swift
was hired by his uncle to read to him, and to be his amanuen-
sis, at the rate of 207. a year and his board-high preferment
to him at that time-and that he was not admitted to his con-
versation or to sit at table with him, is another specimen of those
injurious fictions to which we cannot allude in terms of too
much severity. So the men, it appears, who was admitted
to the intimate confidence of his noble relative and hiend-who
dined at the same table with William III., who in the intimacy
of discourse taught him to eat asparagus in the Dutch fashion
-who was intrusted with secret missions to the king-who
was selected to edite his uncles works (for such sir William
wis by marriage), and to whom he left a legacy as a mark of
gratitude-we are to conclude dired in the servants' hall!
JONATHAN SWIFT.
XT
ર
genius of an original and exalted kind, and for a dis-
temper which most probably was owing to an in-
herent malady, a learned physician could be found,
so lost to reason and science, so dead to honour and
the duties of his profession, as directly to ascribe the
vertigo of Swift, with all its distressing conse-
quences, "to habits of early and profligate indul-
gence."
It is with feelings of unalloyed delight that the
writer can in this instance record the clear-sighted
views and the triumphant refutation of this cruel
and absurd calumny by the immortal author of
Waverley," who, though little inclined to do more
than strict justice to an author who launched his
severest philippics against the Scotch nobility and
people, yet holds the scales with an even hand, as
far as his knowledge of the subject extended, and
never consciously advanced that which he did not
believe to be the strict truth. "To the hypothesis
of this ingenious writer," says the illustrious bio-
grapher, "we may oppose, first, the express declara-
tion of Swift himself that this distressing malady
originated in the surfeit mentioned in the text, a
cause which medical professors have esteemed ade-
quate to produce such consequences. Secondly,
his whole intercourse with Stella and Vanessa indi-
cates the very reverse of an ardent or licentious ima-
gination, and proves his coldness to have been con-
stitutionally inherent, both in mind and person, and
utterly distinct froin that of one who retains wishes
which he has lost the power to gratify. Those who
choose to investigate this matter farther may com-
pare Swift's 'Journal to Stella' with Pope's 'Let-
ters to the Misses Blount,' in which there really
exists evidence of that mixture of friendship, passion,
and licentious gallantry, which the author of "Hygeia"
has less justly ascribed to the correspondence be-
tween Swift and Stella. Lastly, it may be briefly
noticed that the coarse images and descriptions with
which Swift dishonoured his pages are of a descrip-
tion directly opposite to the loose impurities by
which the exhausted voluptuary feeds his imagina-
tion.
We may therefore take Swift's word for
the origin of his malady as well as for his constitu-
tional temperance. And until medical authors can
clearly account for and radically cure the diseases of
their contemporary patients, they may be readily ex-
cused from assigning dishonourable causes for the
disorders of the illustrious dead.”—(Note to
pp. 25-29.)
•
•
Life,"
This masterly refutation of so caiuranicus a charge
is creditable to the generally enlightened biographer
of the extraordinary genius and n less wonderful
wit whom he has commemorated; and it might
moreover be remarked that, in all cases brought
before the tribunal of public opinion where doubts
exist, as is actually the fact with regard to some of
these newly broached aspersions on Swift's moral
and political character, it is invariably allowed to
give the accused the benefit of those doubts-par-
ticularly when his most intimate contemporaries and
his nearest neighbours had never either heard of or
raised any malicious reports of the kind." But to
dismiss this unworthy discussion, obtruded only in
* The learned Dr. Beddoes, who, in the ninth essay of his
work cal ed Hygeia," pursues a train of fallacies in unison
"
with those so fond of raking, like lord Orrery, into the offals of
genius-straining every natural infirmity into moral turpitude,
raising mo.e-hills into mountains, and delighting to revel in the
humiliation and misfortunes of true greatness.
As a further specimen of the same medical sagacity which
dvised Swift to run up a hill every two hours, which attributed
his giddiness and deafness to profligacy and excesses, we
shall in-ert, for the amusement of our readers, the notable pre-
scription for his enre, by another physiciau. Dr. Radcliffe,
a noisse in the head and deffness proseeding from a colde
myst humor in the hend;" which, if taken. in ali human pro-
babity added not a little to the exising malady :-" Take a
+
for
justice to the calumniated dean-unhappy enough
in the company of such baneful guests for life-
and from the necessary obligation of a biographer not
to shrink from the question;-it appears that about
this time Temple began to discover some of the great
qualities of his young relation's mind, his striking
originality of remark and acute powers of reasoning
an observation; so that Swift himself has recorded
that he then grew still more in coufidence with him.
He was always admitted to sir William's confidential
interviews with the king, who was then in the habit
of visiting at Moor-park to consult him whom he
vainly wished to make his prime minister; and
the great statesman being often confined to his
chamber by the gout, the duty of making known
his sentiments and advising with his majesty de-
It must have been an amusing
volved upon Swift.
scene; and the entertainment was no doubt mutual;
for while the king, all whose ideas ran upon the
extermination of his species-war, thought it the
highest honour to offer to the studious poet, then
busied in composing Pindaric odes, a whole troop
of horse, and to teach him to eat asparagus in the
Dutch fashion, stalks and all, the views of the latter
were directed to the more pacific aim of church
preferment. Nor is it unlikely that he obtained
some definite promise to that effect; for that be evi-
dently counted upon it appears from a letter (1692)
addressed to his uncle, in which he says, "I anı
not to take orders till the king gives me a prebend.”
am
In the fourth year of his residence with sir William
Temple, Swift went to take his master's degree at
Oxford, to which he was admitted on the 6th of
July, 1692. He was much pleased with the courtesy
and urbanity shown him upon this occasion, and
pointedly observed that he felt himself under greater
obligations within a few weeks to strangers, than
ever he had been in seven years to Dublin college:
"Oxford to him a dearer name shall be
Than his own mother university;
Thebes did his green unknowing youth engage,
He chooses Athens in his riper age."-Dryden.)
The reception which he thus met with in the firs
seat of British learning, independent of his connex-
ion with Temple, afforded a satisfactory proof of
the successful progress of his studies; and, inspired
as he always appeared in his happier moments, it
was at Oxford that he offered his first poetical effu-
pint of sack whey, make very clear half sack and half water;
boyle it in sum plane race sage and a sprige of rosemary
take it gowing to rest, with thirty or forty drops of spirit of
hartshorn; continue it as long as you find benefit by it (he safely
might) specially the winter season; he may sweaten or not with
sirop of cowslep." He ordered "allsoe a spice capp, to be made
of clowes, masse, and pepper, mingled, finely powned, aud put
between two silke, and quelted to wear next the head, and tor
a season to be sowed inside his wig."
1
a In a letter from the dean to Mrs. Howard (Aug. 19, 1727)
he observes, About two years before you were born I got my
gidainess by eating a hundred gold pippins at a time at Rich-
mond; and when you were four years and a quarter old, lat-
ing two days, having made a fine seat about twenty miles
farther in Surrey, where I used to read there I got my deaf-
ness; and these two friends have visited me one or other every
year since, and being old acquaintance have now thought tit
to come together."
b“ Alderman George Faulkner of Dublin, the well-known
bookseller, happening ne day to dine in company with Dr
Leland the historiau, the conversation reverted to the illustrious
dean of St. Patrick's. Faulkner, who was the dean's pinter
and publisher on many occasions, mentioned that, one day
being detained late at the de mery house in correcting some
proof-sheets for the press, Swit made the worthy aldermau
stay to dinner.
Amongst other vegetables, asparagus fona d
one of the dishes. The dean helped his guest, who shortly
again called upon his host, when the dean, pointing to the alder-
man's plate,first finish, sir, what you have got upon your
plate.' What, sir, cat my stalks-Ay, sir, King William
always eat his st dk. — And, George " rejoined the histormu
(who was himsel remarkably proud and very pompous), were
yon blockhead enough to obey him ? Yes, doctor; and if you
had dined with dean Switt tête à-tête, you would have been
obliged to eat your salks too.'”—(Scott)
xvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
sions to the muse. One of these was a version of
an ode of Horace (book ii., ode 18), written with
considerable ease and spirit; and about the same
time sir William and lady Temple pressed him to
write his Pindaric odes, composed in the still pre-
vailing taste of that day, and which may be pro-
nounced not inferior of the kind to those of Cowley
and Donne. They are addressed to Temple, to
the king, and to the Athenian Society-" a knot of
obscure individuals," says Johnson, "who published
a periodical pamphlet of answers to questions, sent,
or supposed to be sent, by letters. I have been
told,” he adds, "that Dryden, having perused these
verses, said, Cousin Swift, you will never be a
poet; so that this denunciation was the motive
of Swift's perpetual malevolence to Dryden."-
("Life," p. 6.)
Soon after the removal of sir William Temple to
Moor-park, near Farnham, whither he was accom-
panied by Swift, it happened that a bill was brought
into the house for triennial parliaments, to which
the king was much opposed, and despatched the earl
of Portland to sir William for advice, who advocated
the measure, but endeavoured to remove the royal
scruples without effect. Having now a high opinion
of Swift's talents, and of his intimate acquaintance
with English history, he deputed him to wait upon
his majesty, and explain and argue the matter at
greater length. Of this mission he acquitted himself
with great credit, though it was not attended with
success; it was in vain he tried to convince the
king, and when he entered more fully into the
subject with the minister he was informed that the
obstacle was insurmountable, and at the same time.
the measure was rejected by the house. This was
the first time Swift had come into contact with courts,
and he has frankly acknowledged that it was the
first incident that helped to cure him of vanity.
stated to have refused to pledge himself with respect
to Swift's future promotion in the event of his con-
senting to remain with him; and he no longer hesi-
tated to seek his own fortune. Upon his arrival,
however (early in 1694), Swift found that he could
not be ordained without a testimonial of his good
conduct during his residence with sir William ; and
he is stated to have delayed nearly five months be-
fore he would consent to obtain such a recommend-
ation by a kind of submissionª which must have been
extremely grating to his feelings. This document it
appears, however, was accompanied by a letter to lord
Capel from his patron, the prompt arrival of which
seems to throw doubts upon the article of submis-
sion, of which there is no evidence that it was ever
required; and the result was that Swift was offered
the prebend of Kilroot, in the diocese of Connor;
and to this small living, happy in his newly acquired
independence, he retired. His letters for deacon's
orders were dated 28th October, 1694, and those for
priest's orders 13th January, 1694-5; and he was
ordained into both by William King, at that time
bishop of Derry.
We are informed by Mr. Monck Mason that the
pathetic story, told by Sheridan and repeated by sir
W. Scott, of Swift afterwards procuring this living
for an aged clergyman who lent him his horse to ride
to obtain it, has no foundation whatever. He is re-
presented "as the father of a numerous family, who,
• Considerable doubts, of which Swift ought still to have the
benefit, are entertained on this head It is justly remarked by
Mr. Monck Mason that "the letter was taken from a copy of a
transcript from the original: it may be genuine, but I like not
this sort of evidence, and am sme the admission of such will
more frequently lead to error than truth." It is indeed sin-
gular that so many of the documents implicating the deau rest
on the same foundation
It will nevertheless be only justice to Swift's memory to give
this alleged trait of his generosity and magnanimity-inasmuch
as we have made it a principle from which we must not
shrink, to meet the numerous envious and calumnious charges
brought against him, and which have not only been :usinuated
but broadly asserted on worse than hearsay evidence-often
with an affected effort at exculpation, to give weight to them-
to which the creatures of Walpole and Swift's Whig enemies
had invariably recourse -
"
Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike."
And how could he expect to escape, when men like Wharton,
Steele, and the whole tribe of Whig corruptionists-with the ex-
ception of Addison and a few of the better class, whom he nobly
kept in their offices-were hallooed on by the great whipper.
in (Walpole) to worry and defame all he could not corrupt?
If Mr. Mason's dates therefore had only consorted with it, we
should have been strongly inclined to give credince to the
following incident, which is said to have occurred on occasion
of Swift giving up his living at Kilroot.
After a residence of about six weeks at the uni-
versity, having entered himself at Hart's-hall, and
obtained his degree of master of arts, Swift left
Oxford to pay a visit to his mother, and then re-
turned to Moor-park. From this period, it seems,
he became anxious to establish himself in the world,
and sought to realise those promises of preferment
which had been held out to him. Still he continued
to discharge the offices of humanity and friendship
towards his illustrious relative for a space of two
years, when, justly suspecting perhaps that he de-
layed providing for him from selfish views, and
aware that his society had become agreeable as well
as useful and necessary, he conceived it only justice
to himself to remind sir William of the subject.
The discussion which ensued was not of a pleasing
His patron was extremely anxious to have
an accurate copy of all his writings, and Swift's ad-
vice and assistance would here be invaluable. Owing
to the great statesman's increasing infirmities, the
progress had been necessart's slow, ill adapted to
one of Swift's vigorous min. and love of despatch.
They are said to have parted with mutual dissatis-
faction: sir William offered him some paltry em-
ployment in the Rolls-office in Ireland, of which he
was then master, worth about 1207. per annum.
He must have known that this was quite unsuited
to Swift's habits and inclinations; and he repliedy refusing; and thus mounted for the first time on a house of
nature.
with spirit, "that, since this offer relieved him from
the charge of being driven into the church for a
maintenance, he was resolved to go to Ireland to
take holy orders." At the same time sir William is
This fully disproves the assertion of lord Orrery, that
Swift was supported at the university of Oxford during a
period of three years, with the invidious conclusions which he
thence draws, of the same character, and equally well founded,
as those attributed to Mr. Temple, the nephew of sn William
"In an excursion from his habitation he met a clergyman with
whom he formed an acquaintance, which proved him to be
learned, modest, well-principled, the father of eight children, and
a curate at the rate of torty pounds a-year. Without explaining
his purpose, Swift borrowed this gentleman's blick mare,
having no horse of his own-rode to Dublin-resigned the pre-
bendary of Kiloot, and obtained a grant of it for this new
friend. When he gave the presentation to the poor clergyman,
he kept his eyes steadily fixed on the old man's tace, which at
first showed pleasure at finding himself preferred to a living: but
'when he found that it was that of his benefactor, who had re-
signed in his favour, his joy assumed so touching an expression
of surprise and gratitude that Swift himself, deeply affected,
declared he had never experienced so much pleasure as at that
moment. The poor clergyman, at Swift s departure. pressed
upon him the black mare, which he did not choose to hurt him
his own, with fourscore pounds in his purse, Swift again em-
barked for England, and resumed his situation at Moor-park
as sir William Temple's confidential secretary." (Scott.,
All that remains to be said on this curious story is with the
Italian "Se non è vero, è ben trovato;" and perhaps of the two it
is much fairer to speak that which is good of the illustrious dead,
ill-founded though it be, than studiously to seek, with his worst
political enemies, to blacken his memory by a series of injuri-
ons forgeries, of which the real authors remain in the dark,
while only the utterers at secondhand give currency to them, as
usual with counterfeit coin. Where are the originals to fix any
deeper stigma on him than that of great pride and ambitiou ?
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xvf!
on account of his poverty, was unable to provide for
them. It is a pity," adds this accurate and ingenuous
writer, "that, being so very interesting, it should not
be true, which appears from the following circum-
stances. First, Swift was not in Ireland when he re-
signed the living, but resident with sir William Tem-
ple. He held this benefice two years, contrary to
the generally conceived opinion, and was resident at
Moor-park troin June, 1696, till sir William's death,
as appears by his letters. Secondly, the person in
whose favour he resigned was not an indigent cler-
gyman, as is well known to his family; he had bim-
self a moderate estate in that country, and formed
It appears that he
several respectable connexions.
was neither old, poor, nor the father of a family. That
he was not old is farther manifest from the fact of his
having had a correspondence with Swift so late as
the year 1731." a
It may here not improperly be remarked, that, if so
little reliance is to be placed upon an account ciosely
connected with time, place, and circumstance, re-
peated by all Swift's biographers, and which redounds
so highly to his credit, how cautiously we ought to
receive also those reports to his prejudice, arising
out of confused names and dates at college, and from
copies of letters taken from other copies, the evidence
of which Mr. Mason so judiciously questions, and
the original of which neither the transcribers who
communicated them, nor the parties who adopted
them, appear to have seen. We think an additional
proof likewise that on the occasion of the presenta-
tion to his living, Swift was required to make no
undue submission to his distinguished relative, is the
fact of his being so early invited back by sir William,
who became sensible how necessary he was to his
existence. It is most probable, under all the cir-
cumstances, that the apology, or submission as it is
absurdly termed, came not from the injured party
but from him who had committed the error, who
sought to atone for it, who now stood in need of the
support and friendship which he had failed to value
as they deserved, and who had in absence more truly
estimated Swift's worth and talents. To the voice of
friendship and suffering he could never turn a deaf
ear; and in 1695 he repaired to Moor-park, where
he continued to reside till sir William's death,
which took place in January, 1698. There are
abundant evidences both in the dean's and Temple's
own letters to show that they again met upon terms
of gentlemanly equality, without the most remote
allusion to apologies or submission on either side
beyond what the obligation thus conferred upon a
dying relative and a great man, may be supposed
to have awakened upon reflection in sir William's
just and well-regulated mind. From that hour his
friend and companion not only devoted himself with
constant and unremitting care to smooth the pillow
of declining age; to lighten the hours of pain, and
relieve them by his social converse and wit; but he
became his right arm in conducting his literary ar-
rangements to a close, while the affection with which
he regarded the dying statesman is shown in the
memoranda which he so scrupulously kept of the
changes and variations which marked his departure.
Were any proofs wanting of the correctness of this
view of the subject, they are supplied by the laudable
industry and the ability of Mr. M. Mason, in his
excellent work, who has given the correspondence
which ensued between Swift and the representatives
of the Temple family. Every word speaks highly
in favour of the theory we have ventured to adopt in
From the admirably written and very entertaining work
entitled "Historical Annals of the Collegiate and Cathedral
Church of St Patrick," by William Monck Mason.
this "Life;" and in proportion to the genuine light
obtained and which can be thrown upon the doubt-
ful or disputed points of Swift's early history, the
more unexceptionable will it be found to appear.
For this purpose, and that of giving novelty and
freshness to former narratives relating to this period,
too much resembling each other, the observations of
Mr. M. are here given at length. "Swift," he says,
was settled at Moor-park in June, 1696, and from
that time forth until sir William's death in 1698 he
continued to reside in his house, except when he
made an occasional excursion to visit his mother,
who received during this time frequent remittances
from his favourite uncle William and his cousin
Swift manifested at all times a
Willoughby Swift."
great respect for sir William Temple; his intimacy
however with the male descendants of that baronet
was finally terminated in 1726 by an opprobrious
letter of lord Palmerstown, in answer to one of
Swift which contained a request in favour of a
friend, by no means meriting so unhandsome a reply.
There is no passage in Swift's first epistle that can
excuse the following paragraph of his lordship's an-
swer:-"My desire is to be in charity with all men:
could I say as much of you, you had sooner inquired
of this matter, or if you had any regard for a family
you owe so much to; but I fear you hugged the false
report, to cancel all feelings of gratitude that must
ever glow in a generous breast, and to justify what
you had declared, that no regard to the family was
any restraint to you. These great refinements are
past my understanding, and can only be compre-
hended by your great wits."
This vile insinuation received an answer tempe-
rate to a degree that will astonish the reader who is
apprised of the irritable temper of Swift: his reply
to this taunting ungenerous epistle is a chef-d'œuvre.
He asks the noble peer what title he could have to
give such contumelious treatment to one who never
did him the least injury or received from him the
least obligation?" "I own myself indebted 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 writings. But
I hope you will not charge my living in his family
as an obligation; for I was educated to little pur-
pose if I retired to his house for any other motives
than the benefit of his conversation and advice, and
the opportunity of pursuing my studies; for, being
born to no fortune, I was at his death as far to seek
as ever; and perhaps you will allow that I was of
some use to him.' Swift's advantage, it is correctly
added, in this short conflict was commensurate to
the superiority of his understanding. And it was
to this superiority, and to that lofty independence of
character, which raised the literary men of his day
so much higher in the estimation of all parties,
broadly contrasting with the venality of Dryden and
the writers of preceding reigns, that Swift was in-
debted, as well as to his sterling sense and wit, for the
immense influence which he exercised upon his times.
That he at the same time possessed great sensibility
and could both entertain and inspire strong affec-
tion, was shown by the manner in which Temple
latterly regarded his distinguished nephew (at least
in law), and may be seen from a letter by Mrs. Jane
Swift (May 26, 1699), the dean's sister, who says-
"My poor brother has lost his best friend sir W.
Temple, who was so fond of him while he lived that
he made him give up his living in this county (the
prebend of Kilroot) to stay with him at Moor-park,
and promised to get him one in England; but death
came in between, and has left him unprovided both
of friend and living
xvill
LIFE AND WORKS OF
1
courted the relief of poetical composition, which he
had first commenced at Oxford; and in some of
these occasional effusions the tenor of his mind and
thoughts is strongly depicted, bearing that impress
of mingled sorrow and indignation which the aspect
of things around him and his future prospects were
calculated to inspire. Another feature of them is
the decided hatred which he expresses against folly
and vice, and the power with which he strove to ex-
pose them in proportion as they extended their bane-
ful influence from high places :—
.༥
And such in fact was the result of Swift's having | Moor-park, he seems to have more assiduously
complied with the invitation of sir William to return
to Moor-park, a kind and generous proceeding
which made it doubly incumbent upon the party
benefited to lose not a moment's time in returning
it in the same manly and grateful spirit; but this he
neglected to do, and left Swift unprovided for as he
had found him. With regard to the legacy said to
have been left (1007. in a codicil to his will) along
with the bequest that Swift should edite an edition
of his entire works, we are at a loss to see more in
this than the personal interest of the author and the
statesman, who seems to have satisfied his conscience
with the prospective advantage such a task might
afford him, in addition to a doubtful promise known
to have been obtained from king William of a pre-
bendary's stall at Canterbury or Westminster. If
we wished to display in a stronger light Swift's
greatness and magnanimity of spirit in these circum-
stances, we might refer to his own words, which
evince the regard which he entertained for his de-
ceased friend, concluding with the following remark-
able observations:-" He died at one o'clock in the
morning, and with him all that was great and good
among men." And another memorandum contains
the following high and honourable eulogy of his
character as a statesman and a scholar:-"He was
a person of the greatest wisdom, justice, liberality,
politeness, eloquence, of his age and nation. The
truest lover of his country, and one who deserved
more from it by his eminent public services than
any man before or since, besides his great deserving
of the commonwealth of having been universally es-
teemed the most accomplished writer of his time."
If we consider for a moment the situation of Swift
when this splendid character of Temple was written;
that he owed the profession he possessed, without
fortune or preferment, wholly to his own good sense
and resolution; and that, had he complied with his
patron's first injunction to remain with him, he must
have been cast friendless again upon the world, after
eight years, the most valuable of his life, the great-
est portion of which he had devoted to the interest
and reputation of his friend-as regards obligation
on Swift's side nothing can be said. For when, by
his own discerning spirit and wise energy, he had
made himself master of a profession, the utmost that
sir William's care is known to have procured him
was an obscure living in which a genius' like Swift's
may be said to have been buried alive-not pro-
moted; and where, far from meeting society conge-
nial to his temper and habits, he beheld only the de-
gradation and sufferings of the people, withering
under the blasting influence of the then dominant
Whig party, the champions at that time of war, and
the originators-with the help of bishop Burnet-of
the public debt, paper money, corruption, and all
the fruitful calamities to which Swift even then
saw they must inevitably give rise. The public
spirit and patriotism by which he seems so early to
have been actuated, and for which alone he entered
on a literary career, breathe in almost every line of
his early poetry, in his imitations, his Pindaric odes,
and satirical effusions, which possess a fire and
vigour that by no means merited the doubtful and
ill-substantiated condemnation-stated on Johnson's
hearsay already alluded to-of his great cousin Dry-
den. In his humble and cheerless retirement, in-
deed, at Kilroot, and his subsequent residence at
If any evidence of this fact is required it will be enough to
refer to one of those occasional essays, written by Swift when
in Ireland, and given for the first time entire in the present edi
tion of his works, from a copy of the "Intelligencer" that ap-
pears to have been in his own possession, and which contains
his remarks and signature at the end of each paper.
"My hate-whose lash just Heaven had long decreed
Shall on a day make sin and folly bleed."
And in those interesting verses, so honourable to his
right feelings, "on the Illness and Recovery of Sir
William Temple," he gives expression to sentiments
evincing a lofty sense of duty, a strength of virtuous
will, and a disdain of mercenary motives or mean
compliances, which carry a strong presumption of his
previous habits of self-command and of his uniform
consistency and high principle, deviations from
which were only likely to occur from the predomi-
nance of pride or ambition. They are the more re-
markable as having been written in some moment
when extreme suffering or other causes had given to
the manner of his friend and host, Temple, a degree
of distance or coldness of which Swift subsequently
complained, and was heard humorously to declare
"that in faith sir William had spoiled a fine gentle-
man," in allusion to his harsh manner. Addressing
the muse in the style that was still in vogue from the
days of Charles II., and which was of itself sufficient
to render Swift's earlier pieces-had they possesse
greater merit,-neglected and obsolete, he exclaims
in an emphatic tone,-
"To thee I owe that fatal bent of mind,
Still to unhappy restless thoughts inclined;
To thee what ott I vainly strive to hide,
That scorn of fools by fools mistook for pride
From thee whatever virtue takes its rise
Grows a misfortune and becomes a vice;
Such were thy rules to be as good as great-
Stoop not to interest, flattery, or deceit;
Nor with hired thoughts be thy devotion paid;
Learn to disdain their mercenary aid;
Be this thy sure defence, thy brazen wall,-
Know no base action, at no guilt look pale :
And since unhappy distance thus denies
T'expose thy soul, clad in this poor disguise;
Since thy few ill-presented graces seem
To breed contempt where thou Lad'st hoped esteem."
In the sudden outbreaks of satirical passion, and in
spontaneous unpremeditated lines like these, even
more than in his letters, we seem to read his early
character and feelings, the secret heart and spirit
which sat alone in their self-sustained power and calm
yet indignant grandeur, brooding over the philo-
sophy, the sad moral of history, examining and ar-
raigning before the tribunal of his judgment and
conscience the motives by which he was then ac-
tuated. Before following him however from the
shades of Kilroot and the elegant seclusion of
Moor-park, into that active world where his genius
shone with unrivalled splendour, it becomes (so soon
again) the writer's painful duty to set at rest another
of those absurd and calumnious falsehoods, invented
doubtless long after the period to which it is referred,
by some of his humbled and perhaps titled adversa-
ries, writhing under the infliction of some of his
keen satiric truths, and, unable to meet him in the
field of manly argument, trying to arrest his fierce.
pursuit, like certain animals whose last chance of
escape lies in exciting extreme disgust and nausea in
their conquerors; and it is a curious fact that, with
regard to Steele's baseness and ingratitude, Swift
actually declared that by his sh; ueless and impu-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xix
dent proceedings he had quite put it out of his
(Swift's) power to do him any injury. We can only
desire, in alluding to a charge so preposterous, to
show that we consider it indispensable for every one
who treats the life of a distinguished man not to
conceal or disguise the truth, or attempt by any side
wind to edge out of a question, however difficult or
however trivial the circumstances. At the same
time, it is a source of regret that sir Walter Scott or
some of his other biographers evinced not some
spark of the fiery scorn and indignation which would
have actuated the dean himself, had he been able to
detect the vile calumniator, and thus have spared
future biographers of this celebrated man the strong
aversion they must feel in dwelling upon such mean
and despicable calumnies, when so many nobler and
more inviting themes lie before them. It would be
enough in any other case to observe that the name of
the infamous lord Wharton is connected with it;
but it seems to have been the fate of Swift-from the
loftier eminence which he occupied, from his vast
talents and unrivalled influence, and from one or
two unhappy passages in his after life-to have
offered a wider and safer mark for the shafts of ca-
lumny, and from the superior strength and vividness.
of his intellectual flashes to have shown more clearly
the innumerable little motes in his mental sun.
"Ex uno disce omnes" might indeed be adduced
as a motto for the series of calumnies which
spring from such a cause; but, if only as speci-
mens of the human nature which he himself painted,
they are sometimes not unentertaining when the
motives of the parties interested are understood.
Like most others, this foul calumny carries with it
its own refutation by the strong array of facts and
dates which, in addition to invalidating the particu-
lar charge by circumstantial evidence, present a
general body of truths sufficient in themselves be-
fore the severest tribunal of justice to exonerate the
character of the dean, even upon the ground of
moral reputation and public character. The account
of it given by sir Walter Scott will be found in the
appended note, and to this will be subjoined his
masterly, but not perhaps sufficiently indignant and
emphatic, reply. For there cannot be a doubt that,
* In an edition of the "Tatler" iu six volumes, 1786, executed
with uncommon accuracy and care, there occurs a note upou
No. 188, which among other strictures on Swift's history nien-
tions the following alleged fact:-" Lord Wharton's remarkable
words allude not only to the odium Swift had contracted as the
known or supposed author of the ' Pale of a Tub,' &c., but they
seem to point more particularly to a flagrant part of his crimi-
nality at Kilroot not so generally known. A general account
of this offence is all that is requisite here, and all that decency
permits.
"In consequence of an attempt to ravish one of his parishion-
ers, a farmer's daughter, Swift was carried before a magistrate
of the name of Dobbs (in whose family the examinations taken
on the occasion are said to be still extant to this day), and to
avoid the very serious consequences of this rash action imme
diately resigned the prebend and quitted the kingdom. This
intelligence was communicated, and vouched as a fact well
known in the parish even now, by one of Swift s successors in
the living, and is rested on the authority of the present pre-
bendary of Kilroot, February 6th, 1785."
It was not to be supposed that a charge so inconsistent with
Swift's general character for virtue, religion, and temperance
should remain unauswered; accordingly a reply was addressed
to the editor of the Gentleman's Magazine, by Theophilus Swift,
esq., who was zealous for the honour of his great relation, but
it was refused admission on account of its length. An answer
is also to be found in Mr. Monck Berkeley's "Reliques;" and in
both cases the advocates of Swift, or rather his vindicators, uige
the utter improbability of the charge, considering the circum-
stances of the case. It was shown by Mr. Berkeley that, had
such a criminal stigma ever stained the character of Swift, some
allusions to it must have been found amid the profusion of
personal slauder with which at one time he was assailed both
in Britain and Ireland. It was further remarked that, had
Swift been conscious of meriting such an imputation, his satire
upon dean Sawbridge for a similar crime argued little less than
insanity in the author. To which it might have been added that
had not Mr. Malone and other friends of the calum-
niated dean's memory stood forward in the hand-
some manner they did, sifted the matter to its vilest
dregs, challenged and compelled the utterers to con-
fess its falsehood and to retract it, the statement
would have remained, and the presumed record been
referred to with the same unfounded confidence as
other weak and ridiculous charges, upon the pre-
sumed evidence of copies of tran-cripts from original
letters which no one has seen, but most probably
original forgeries like the statements of lord Wharton
and his creatures.
During Swift's final residence with sir W. Temple,
in addition to performing the last offices of humanity
with the generosity and assiduity of a friend who
felt himself upon a perfect equality, or rather as the
party conferring an obligation-for, as he himself ex-
presses it after a lapse of seven years, "he found
himself as much to seek as ever," and had to carve
out his own course in the world-he was not only
silently preparing the edition of that able statesman
and amiable man's writings for the world, but de-
fending his literary reputation and character, with
the irresistible weapons of his wit and genius, from
the bitter invectives of those scholastic blockheads
who arrogated to themselves superior merit from
appearing in the borrowed plumes-the mere husks
and verbiage-of the ancients they affected so much
to honour. The most disinterested kindness and the
greatest service he could at that time confer upon a
man whose reputation at this day belongs more to
his literary tastes than to his political ascendancy-
for, unlike Swift, he had the credit without afford-
ing the proofs of strong political wisdom,-was to
support by his voluntary act the favourite theory to
which the feelings, the refined taste, and the clas-
sic education of Temple had so much wedded him;
and like some young heroic chief to defend the form
the same reproach is thrown by Swift on sir John Browne, in one
of the "Drapiers." Above all, the proofs of this strange allega-
tion were loudly demanded at the hands of those who had made
a public calumny unknown to the eagle-eyed slander of the age
in which Swift lived. To these defiances no formal answer
was returned, but the story was suffered to remain upon record.
That this atr cious story may no longer continue without an
A
explicit contradiction. I here insert the origin of the calumuy
upon the authority of the rev. Dr. Hutchison of Donaghadee.
The rev. Mr. Pr, a sucessor of dean Swift in the pre-
bend of Kilroot, was the first circulator of this extraordinary
story. He told the tale, among other public occasions, at the
late excellent bishop of Dromore's, who committed it to writing.
His authority he alleged to be a dean Dobbs, who he stated had
informed him that informations were actually lodged before
magistrates in the diocese of Down and Counor for the alleged
attempt But when the late ingenious Mr. Malone and many
other literary gentlemen began to press a closer examination
of the alleged fact, the unfortunate narrator denied obstinately
his ever having promulgated such a charge. And whether the
whole story was the creation of incipient insanity, or whether
he had felt the discredit attached to his tergiversation so acutely
as to delange his understanding, it is coitain the unfortunate
Mr. P―r died raving mad, a patient in that very hospital for
lunatics established by Swift against whom he had propagated
this cruel calumny. Yet, although P-r thus fell a victim
to his own rash assertions or credulity, it has been supposed
that this inexplicable figment did really originate with dean
Dobbs, and that he had een led into a mistake by the initial
letters J. S. upon the alleged papers, which might apply to
Jonathan Smedley (to whom indeed the tale has been supposed
properly to belong) or to John Smith as well as to Jonathan
Swift. It is sufficient for Swift's vindication to observe that he
returned to Kiloo after his resignation, and inducted his suc-
cessor in face of the church and of the public; that he returned
to sir William Temple with as tair a character as when he had
left him; that during all his pubar lite ia England and lieland,
where he was the butt of a whole faction, this charge was never
head of; that when adduced so many years after lus death it
was unsupported, like too many others, by aught but sturdy and
general avermeut; and that the chief propagaior of the calumuy
first retracted his assertions, and finally died insane." This is
conclusive; and had Mr. Malone's and his friends' example of
open challenge and investigation been followed, fewer other ab-
surd charges would be allowed to remain upon record.~(Scott's
Life of Swilt," pp. 40—42.”
.་
xx
LIFE AND WORKS OF
a
two works all the exquisite episodes and rich illus
trations are Swift's own, and far beyond the merit
and beauty of the alleged model; and it has been
shown by Mr. Mason that he actually took not a
single idea from it. The subsequent success of the
"Battle of the Books'a (though in MS.), with the
curiosity and admiration it excited, probably en-
complete his
"Tale of a Tub"-an astonishing
production, of which the fervid vehement style,
sparkling wit, and vivacity of genius, seem to dis-
tinguish it above the happiest efforts even of his own
resistless pen.
It would seem, from a letter of At-
terbury (29th June, 1704), that when this inimitable
production first appeared it was given to one Edward
Smith (Rag Smith) and John Philips; but by Con-
greve and the few wits then acquainted with the
author's manner, it could not for a moment have been
mistaken.
of his aged sire from the assaults of his relentless
foes. How grateful the dying statesman must have
felt, could not be more strongly shown than by leav-
ing a considerable legacy to his adopted son (hence
the virulence of Temple's unworthy nephew), and
by constituting his nephew-in-law his literary exe-
cutor, than which he could not give a more marked
evidence of his unlimited confidence in Swift's judg-couraged the author, about the same period, to
ment and integrity. Till that happier period arrived,
and he began to appreciate the great and noble qua-
lities of Swift's mind, we trace the sufferings of a
genius conscious of its own powers, of a frank inge-
nuous nature which the slightest coldness or distance.
could make unhappy for days, though moods pro-
bably arising only from increasing physical infirmities
or the strange variableness attending the departure
of the fleeting soul. In the very words of his at-
tached friend and relative, left us upon record, in all
the tenderness and purity of generous friendship, we
perceive the strong regard, amounting to veneration,
which influenced Swift's motives towards one whose
friendship and confidence he strove to possess, and,
as in most of the objects he aimed at, fully succeeded
in attaining. "Don't you remember," he says in a
letter to Stella, how I used to be in pain when sir
William Temple would look cold or out of humour
for three or four days, and I used to suspect a hun-
dred reasons!"
As in all future occurrences of his life, Swift
evinced in the controversy on ancient and modern
learning the same correct taste and sound judgment
which enabled him to see through the real object of
Marlborough and the Whigs in prosecuting, for selfish
aggrandisement, an endless and destructive war,
that is, he saw that the aim of the moderns-of
Bentley, Wotton, and the smaller fry, borrowed from
the French controversy of Perrault and Fontenelle-
had its source only in individual and national vanity,
and deserved no mercy. There can be no doubt in
any unbiassed and enlightened mind, in that of the
true scholar and critic, on which side the balance
was likely to incline; but Swift's was not a genius
to rest content, in literary controversy, with a drawn
battle. That which rendered the learned chivalry of
Swift more valued on this occasion was that Temple
had committed an error, which compromised his
classical tact and reputation, by resting his authority
on the Epistles of Phalaris, which he looked upon
not only as genuine, but as exhibiting the antique
spirit, grandeur of thought, and contempt of death,
peculiar to the ancient tyrants and commanders. He
had thus placed himself upon the horns of a dilemma,
of which Wotton, followed by the doughty Bentley,
did not fail to take advantage; and the circumstance
of the hon. Mr. Boyle having undertaken a new
edition of the Epistles gave rise to the two treatises,
which so much amused the learned world, of Boyle ver-
sus Bentley, and consequently, of Bentley versus Boyle.
Swift now threw his broad shield over his devoted
friend; and the "Battle of the Books" infused a hu-
morous spirit of happy wit and invention into the
subject which it did not before possess. The design
was erroneously said to have been borrowed from
Coutrage's Political History of the newly declared
War between the Ancients and Moderns;" but, in fact,
there is not the remotest resemblance between the
There is a singular parallel case in the present day, to which
it gives the writer unfeigned pleasure to allude; the literary
executorship of a man on an eminence very far superior to that
of sir W. Temple; and a far greater master in his grand and
peculiar sphere. We mean si Walter Scott; to whose fascinating
society the writer was no stranger
Could Mr. Lockhart in-
stance, in the whole course of his editorial and literary expe
rience, a stronger proof of unlimited confidence and friendship,
than that given by sir W. Scott, when he intrusted his literary
fame to his guardianship?
How eagerly the author had devoted himself to
the study of poetry and history is evident from a list
given by Sheridan; and he himself states that he
had written and burned and written again upon
all manner of subjects, more than perhaps any man
in England. Among other poetical pieces full of
keen satire, but rough and inelegant as regards
the versification, are some lines written in 1697,
Upon the Burning of Whitehall," remarkable for
strong thought and vigour of expression, and a copy
of verses written in "a lady's ivory table-book,
which afford perhaps the first specimen of that happy
vein of rallying foibles and peculiarities in which he
afterwards became so expert a master.
It was at Moor-park, moreover, that Swift be-
came acquainted with Miss Esther Johnson, after-
wards known as the amiable and accomplished
Stella. She was the daughter of a gentleman of
family in Nottingham, engaged as a merchant in
London, only in her fifteenth year, and possessed of
beauty, elegance, and talents. She resided with
another young lady, a niece of sir William's, in the
same establishment, and the friend and companion
of the statesman voluntarily took upon himself the
tuition of his fair guests. As we are here about to
enter upon the incipient cause of that which after-
wards embittered Swift's existence, it will be proper
in every point of view to give the opinions of one in
whose high and liberal mind, and in whose admirable
judgment, as well as accuracy of research, there is
every reason to place confidence. Mr. Mason justly
makes the same distinction which Swift himself did
as regards the relative position of the parties, ob-
serving that she was a lady for whom he felt all that
warmth of animated friendship of which his future
life gives so many examples; but it appears never
to have kindled into love. To that passion, during
his whole life, Swift was remarkably insensible. Sir
W. Scott likewise-alluding to a letter written to the
Rev. John Kendall (11th February, 1691-2), in
which Swift speaks of his cold temper and uncon-
fined humour "as sufficient hindrances to any im-
prudent attachment; that he was resolved not to
think of marriage till his fortune was settled in the
world, and that even then he might be so hard to
please he might probably put it off till doomsday"-
also relates an anecdote (as amusing, perhaps, as
apocryphal) which shows how strong was the re-
straint of prudential considerations in Swift's well-
regulated mind. “A young clergyman, the son of a
bishop in Ireland, having married without the per-
mission of his friends, it gave umbrage to his family,
a
"Johnson's veracity in stating that Swit borrowed his ideas
from a work entitled, Le Combat des Livres' is not to be
relied upon; it is pretty certain that no such work exists. -
MASON.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxi
The residence of Mr.
proceeds, pray inform me.
Winder being in that neighbourhood renders it prc-
bable that the female alluded to is Miss Waryng;
if so, their affections had terminated long before the
letter alluded to was written."-(" Historical An-
nals," &c.)
In December, 1699, Swift suffered another severe
mortification by the hasty and imprudent marriage
of his sister with an obscure tradesman, a currier-
old enough to be her father-who soon broke, and,
as her brother had foreseen, treated her with neglect;
and finally left her unprovided for with a family.
We must not forget to add that it became Swift's
first object to provide for her, and that he settled
upon her family an annual stipend for the remainder
of her life.
and his father refused to see him. The dean, being Eliza; they were written in my youth; pray burn
them. You mention a dangerous rival for an absent
1 company with him some time after, said he would
If the report
tell him a story.
lover; but I must take my fortune.
• When I was a schoolboy at Kil-
kenny, and in the lower form, I longed very much
One day I
to have a horse of my own to ride on.
saw a poor man leading a very mangy lean horse out
I asked the
of the town to kill him for the skin.
ruan if he would sell him, which he readily con-
sented to upon my offering him somewhat more than
the price of the hide, which was all the money I had
in the world. I immediately got on him, to the
great envy of some of my schoolfellows and to the
ridicule of others, and rode him about the town.
As I had no
The horse soon tired, and lay down.
stable to put him into, nor any money to pay for his
sustenance, I began to find out what a foolish bar-
gain. I had made, and cried heartily for the loss of
my cash; but the horse dying soon after on the spot
gave me some relief. To this the young clergyman
answered, 'Sir, your story is very good, and appli-
cable to my case-I own I deserve such a rebuke;'
The dean
and then buret into a flood of tears.
made no reply, but went the next day to the lord-
lieutenant, and prevailed on him to give the young
gentleman a small living, then vacant, for his imme-
diate support; and not long after brought about a
This is
reconciliation between his father and him."
an admirable illustration, and must doubtless have
had its weight in terminating a juvenile attachment
between Swift and a Miss Jane Waryng, the sister
of his college companion, after it had subsisted for a
period of four years-a period" in which much,"
says sir W. Scott, "may have happened to abate the
original warmth of Swift's passion; nor is it per-
haps very fair, ignorant as we are of what had oc-
curred in the interim, to pass a severe sentence on
his conduct, when, after being mortified by Varina'sa
cruelty during so long a period, he seems to have
been a little startled by her sudden offer of capitu-
lation. It is, however, certain that just when the
lover, worn out by neglect or disgusted by uncer-
tainty, began to grow cool in his suit, the lady (a
case not altogether without example) became press-
ing and categorical in her inquiries as to what had
altered the style of her admirer's letters." To this it
appears that Swift's reply was even more particular
and more tediously categorical, in addition to the
cold and insulting tone in which it is written, as
little creditable to the writer's good feelings as to his
gallantry, and which must have been intended to
produce the effect of terminating the affair, as no
lady of sense or delicacy could have subscribed to
such harsh and unreasonable terms.
•
It is only just, however, to Swift to give Mr. M.
Mason's clear-sighted view and evidence as to this
affair:-"There is enough to satisfy us that the lady's
coolness was at least equal to that of her quondam
lover. Swift writes, I have observed in abundance
of your letters such marks of a severe indifference,
that I began to think it was hardly possible for one
of my few good qualities to please you.' And after-
wards he says, there was no other way of account-
ing for her behaviour but by imputing it to a want
of common esteem and friendship for him. Some
hints also at other causes of displeasure appear from
Swift's words: If you like such company and con-
duet, much good may you do with them; my educa-
tion has been otherwise.' I apprehend the follow-
ing words of a letter, the original of which is in my
possession, allude to the same business; it is ad-
dressed to the Rev. Mr. Winder, and is dated from
Moor-park, in 1698: 'I remember those letters to
• Miss Jane Waryng, "whom, by a coid poetical conceit,”
adds sir W. Scott, he has termed Varina."
་
Swift's first occupation upon his removal to Lon-
don was to publish a full and correct edition of the
works intrusted to his care by sir William Temple."
They were dedicated to the king, from whom it is
supposed the editor had already received a promise
through Temple of the first vacant prebend in Can-
terbury or Westminster. If so, that promise, like
most court promises, was made to be broken; and
Swift, during his occasional attendance on ministers,
received no satisfaction whatever. His patience
becoming exhausted, he sent a memorial to the king
himself; and informs us that "the earl of Romney,
who professed much friendship, promised to second
his petition; but as he was an old, vicious, illiterate
rake, without any sense of truth or honour, he said
not a word of it to the king." (MS. by Swift.) At
length, wearied and disgusted, he was induced to
accept an invitation from the earl of Berkeley, ap-
pointed one of the lords-justices, to attend him as
chaplain and private secretary to Ireland.
officiated in his new capacity till their arrival in
Dublin, when a busy intriguing fellow named Bushe,
having insinuated to his lordship that the post of
secretary was not fit for a clergyman, obtained it for
himself. Swift's indignation at this usage was frankly
and boldly expressed; and he wrote a bitter and
humorous lampoon, which obtained a wide circula-
tion, at his lordship's and the new secretary's ex-
pense. This disappointment was followed by ano-
ther. The deanery of Derry having become vacant,
Swift applied for it, the earl having promised him
the first benefice which should fall in. Again the
secretary found means to set Swift aside, upon pre-
Swift
• During Swift's residence in England he never failed to
visit his mother once a year at Leicester. His mode of travel-
ling was suited to his duauces; being always on foot, except
when the weather was very bad, when he would sometimes
take shelter in a waggon. With the help of a strong constitu
tion and active limbs he traversed hills and dales, valuing
gates and stiles not a straw, and dining at obscure alehouses
with pedlars and carriers. The Language and manners of those
people indulged his comic humour, and supplied him with
the means of studying human nature; but although he dis-
guised himself to the utmost of his skill, yet he was once dis-
covered by his fellow-travellers to be a spy on their manners,
and obliged afterwards to travel in better company. To this
passion he never sacriticed his habitual love of cleanliness:
although be usually took up his lodging where he saw written
over the door lodgings for a peuny," yet he used to bribe
the maid with sixpence to give him a separate bed and clean
sheets. Perhaps we are indebted," adds Mr. Mason. "to
the state of Swift's finances for the entertainment and instruc-
tion we receive from his admirable works; nay, we have his
own words for it: in a letter to his friend Pope he says, I
will tell you that all my endeavours from a boy to distinguish
myself were only for want of a great title and fortune, that I
might be used like a lord by those who have an opinion of
my parts; whether right or wrong, it is no great matter; and
so the reputation of great learning does the work of a blue
ribbon or of a coach and six horses,'
CA
xxii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
tence that he was too young (he had, in fact, re-
ceived a bribe of 10007.)-an objection erroneously
stated by lord Orrery to have originated with Dr.
Wm. King, who entreated that the deanery might
be given to some elderly divine. "I have no objec-
tion," said the learned prelate, "to Mr. Swift; I
know him to be a sprightly ingenious young man;
but instead of residing, I dare say he will be eter-
nally flying backwards and forwards to London, and
therefore I entreat he may be provided for in some
other place." Swift, aware that the matter must
have been done with the earl's participation, insisted
upon an interview with the secretary; and on being
told the real state of the case, that it could not be
had without 10007., indignantly replied, "then God
confound you both for a couple of rascals!" and
hastily left the castle. But his lordship, already
smarting under the injured chaplain's satiric lash,
lost no time in making due apology and offering
terms of conciliation; and on the 22nd March,
1699, Swift was inducted to the rectory of Agher
and vicarages of Laracor and Rathbeggan, in the
diocese of Meath. They were, however, not worth
one third of the deanery; but on the 28th of
September, 1700, he received a further recom-
pense by being collated to the prebend of Dunlaven
in St. Patrick's cathedral, and installed on the 22nd
of the following month. In his poem of the "Dis-
covery," as well as in other effusions, Swift holds
both his lordship and his secretary up to the ridicule
of the reader; but he was subsequently induced
to preserve friendly terms with the earl-influenced,
it is said, by his high respect for the countess-a lady
of exemplary virtue and piety, whom he has extolled
in his introduction to the "Project for the Advance-
ment of Religion." Of these his united livings
Swift, in his account-book for the year 1700, set
down the annual value at 2307.; and it appears that
he paid between March, 1699, and November, 1700,
as much as 1177. for title, crown-rent, curate, &c.
Indeed, it would appear from an account-book for
1703, kept by Swift, who was always extremely ex-
act and punctual in his entries, that after these and
other deductions the means left at his command
were very slender, insomuch that Mr. Mason, who
himself inspected the accounts, observes that it
argued no very blamable ambition that he should
wish to be somewhat richer, particularly as we learn
from his "Journal to Stella" that his livings had in
1712 decreased, and the expense of living in Ireland
was greater than before.
a
|
were Swift's habits of life, of whom it is said he was
so attentive to exterior appearances that he never
went abroad without his gown. We should remem
ber too that he was at this time chaplain to the
chief governor of Ireland-a strange season for him
to fix on to depart from his usual practice. But this
writer does not proceed many pages before he finds
a parish clerk to act as clown to the mountebank
character into which he has done us the honour to
transform the great genius and chief patriot of Ire-
land; this is Roger Cox, of whose costume we have
the following description (p. 6):-'Roger's dress was
not the least extraordinary feature of his appearance.
He constantly wore a full-trimmed scarlet waistcoat
of most uncommon dimensions, a light-grey coat,
which altogether gave him an air of singularity and
whim as remarkable as his character.' The writer,
having equipped his heroes, proceeds next to relate
their exploits,
their exploits, witty and humorous, which are
about as true as the description of the characters
themselves, and equally judicious and appropriate.
A jest-book may be amusing, but a medley of jests
ought not to be attributed to any real character; it
would be more prudent for the compiler of such to
fix upon a fictitious one, who may be each and
everything he pleases; witty sayings attributed to a
real person should be appropriate.
Indeed, in
the case of Swift, such publications are peculiarly
objectionable; he was of a cast of character the ex-
act value and true nature of which it is an object of
high interest duly to appreciate. The peculiarity of
his humour has not been thoroughly comprehended,
even by some writers who think they have inter-
preted it rightly; to falsify it in the way the author
of Swiftiana' has done, by attributing to him acts
that he never did and sayings that he never uttered,
is to do an injury for which his foolish jests can
furnish no sufficient recompense."-(" Historical
Annals.")
<
·
This high testimony upon the best and most
genuine evidence, from a writer intimately convers-
ant with the most trivial as well as the most import-
ant passages in the dean's history, does equal credit
to his heart and to his judgment; nor does he less
ably refute the other stories appertaining to the want
of dignity, and even levity, with which Swift was ac-
cused, while residing at these livings, of performing
the offices of religion. The practice of having
divine service on week-days being very unusual, it
was at first very ill attended. It has been related of
Swift, that on one of those days, finding there was
no other person present but himself and the clerk,
he began by addressing him as follows: "Dearly be-
loved Roger, the scripture moveth you and me in
sundry places;" and proceeded in that manner
through the service. This story is not however
authenticated; it rests solely on the credit of lord
Orrery; neither Mr. Deane Swift nor Mrs. Whiteway
had heard it, until the earl's book made its appear-
auce; and although they allowed it was like him,
they believed it to be an invention of lord Orrery's
to discredit the dean's respect for religion. Mr.
Theophilus Swift says he read it in a jest-book.
printed between 1550 and 1560. To this the write:
of his life in the Biog. Brit. alludes in the follow-
ing words: "This instance of levity it must be
owned is sufficient to clear Dr. King, then bishop
of Derry, from any particular ill-will to him in try-
Upon the earl of Berkeley's retiring from the go-
vernment, Swift, who had continued to exercise his
duties as chaplain to the year 1700, withdrew to his
vicarage of Laracor, where his conduct as a clergy-
man, his uniform piety, and respect for religious ob-
servances, gained him the esteem of different classes,
as well as of his parishioners. An absurd and farcical
description, copied by some of his biographers, has
been given of his journey, almost wholly destitute
of truth, and of his abrupt and unfeeling manner of
taking possession of his new livings. The amusing
inventor (for Swift can boast fabulists without end,
before and after lord Orrery) sets out very vera-
ciously by assuring us he performed his journey on
foot; that he wore decent black clothes, with strong
worsted stockings, of which he carried a second pair
and a shirt in his pocket; a large grey surtout, a
large slouched hat, with a pole considerably tongering to prevent his promotion to that deanery.”
than himself, which he had probably procured from
some country hay-maker. It is impossible to re-
cognise in this burlesque description "any resem-
blance," says Mr. Mason, "to what we are told
From the Swiftiana."
"I have before expressed my doubt that King
ever opposed the appointment of Swift, and have
now to observe that this instance of levity, if it ever
happened, must have occurred after that deanery had
been disposed of, and could not therefore have had
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxiii
any Influence upon the bishop's opinion. But in
truth, Swift cannot justly be accused of levity in
those respects; his conduct, which was uniformly
picus, should rather disprove the truth of the anec-
dote, than such an anecdote, ill authenticated, cast a
blemish on his character; it would not be possible
to adduce an instance from his works where he
makes a jest of religion. There is another story,
likewise related by lord Orrery, in his 16th letter, of
his laying a wager one afternoon with Dr. Raymond,
of Trim, that he would begin prayers before him;
that both ran as fast as they could to the church, but
Raymond, who had outrun Swift, walked decently
up the aisle. Swift, however, did not slacken his
pace; he passed Raymond in the aisle, and, stepping
into the reading-desk, repeated so much of the ser-
vice as entitled him to the sum which they had
wagered. This story appears, like the others, to be a
malicious falsehood, invented for the sole purpose of
discrediting his character."-("Historical Annals.")
The whole of this statement is as true as it is ad-
mirable; and could the series of full and deeply
studied and examined notes upon Swift's life in this
distinguished writer's work appear prefixed to a
new edition of the dean's writings, there can be no
doubt they would form the most correct and com-
plete biography of him that has yet been given to
the world-presenting a mass of rich and most in-
teresting illustrations in every particular, and which,
from the minute investigation and comparison they
display, may be relied upon, in addition to the requi-
site entertainment they afford. Of the same doubt-
ful character are many of the anecdotes relating to
this comparatively obscure portion of Swift's life,
though appearing in the respectable character of a
country clergyman, and with a seriousness and
earnestness which had nothing of the frivolous and
light demeanour so freely attributed to him.
"On Sundays," says sir W. Scott, "the church at
Laracor was well attended by the neighbouring
families; and Swift, far from having reason to com-
plain of want of an audience, attained that reputa-
tion which he pronounced to be the height of his
ambition, since inquiries were frequently made of
his faithful clerk, Roger Coxe, whether the doctor
was to preach that Sunday.
"While resident at Laracor, it was Swift's prin-
cipal care to repair the dilapidations which the church
and vicarage had sustained by the carelessness or
avarice of former incumbents. He expressed the
utmost indignatio 1 at the appearance of the church,
aud, during the first year of his incumbency, ex-
pended a considerable sum in putting it into repair.
The vicarage he also made comfortably tenantable,b
and proceeded to improve it according to the ideas
of beauty and taste which were at that time uni-
versally received. He formed a pleasant garden;
smoothed the banks of a rivulet into a canal, and
planted willows in regular ranks at its side. These
willows, so often celebrated in the Journal to
a
Roger was a man of humour, and merited a master like
Swift. When the Doctor remarked that he wore a scarlet
waistcoat, he defended himself as being of the church militant.
"Will you not bid for these poultry ?" said Swift to his humble
dependant at a sale of farm-stock. No, sir" said Roger,
they're just a going to Hatch." They were in fact on the
point of being knocked down to a farmer called Hatch. This
humourist was originally a hatter, and died at the age of ninety,
at Bruky in the county of Cavan.
The house appears from its present ruins to have been a
comfortable mansion. The present bishop of Meath (whom
the editor is proud to call his friend), with classic feeling, while
pressing upon his clergy at a late visitation the duty of repairing
the glebe-houses, addressed himself particularly to the vicar of
Laracor, and recommended to him, in the necessary improve
ment of his mansion, to save as far as possible the walls of the
house which had been inhabited by his great predecessor.
Stella,' are now decayed or cut down; the garden
cannot be traced; and the canal only resembles a
Yet the parish and the rector continue to
ditch.
derive some advantage from its having been once
the abode of Swift. He increased the glebe from
one acre to twenty. The tithes of Effernock, pur-
chased with his own money at a time when it did
not abound, were, by his will, settled for ever on the
incumbent of that living.
"But Laracor had yet greater charms than its
willows and canals, the facetious humours of Roger
Coxe, and the applause of the gentry of the neigh-
bourhood. Swift had no sooner found his fortune
established in Ireland than it became his wish that
Stella should become an inhabitant of that kingdom.
This was easily arranged. She was her own mis-
tress; and the rate of interest being higher in Ireland
furnished her with a plausible excuse for taking up
her residence near the friend and instructor of her
youth. The company of Mrs. Dingley, a woman of
narrow income and limited understanding, but of
middle age and a creditable character, obviated in
a great measure the inferences which the world must
otherwise have necessarily drawn from this step.
Some whispers so singular a resolution doubtless
occasioned; but the caution of Swift, who was never
known to see Stella but in the presence of a third
party, and the constant attendance of Mrs. Dingley,
to whom, apparently, he paid equal attention, seem
to have put scandal to silence. Their residence was
varied with the same anxious regard to Stella's cha-
racter. When Swift left the parsonage at Laracor
the ladies became its tenants, and when he returned
they regularly retired to their lodgings in the town
of Trim, the capital of the diocese, or were received
by Dr. Raymond, so often mentioned in the Jour-
nal,' the hospitable vicar of that parish. Every ex-
terior circumstance which could distinguish an union
of mere friendship from one of a more tender nature
was carefully observed, and the surprise at first ex-
cited by the settlement of Mrs. Dingley and Stella
in a country to which they were strangers seems
gradually to have subsided.
gradually to have subsided. It is however highly
probable that between Swift and Stella there was a
tacit understanding that their union was to be com-
pleted by marriage when Swift's income, according
to the prudential scheme which he had unhappily
adopted, should be adequate to the expense of a
matrimonial establishment. And here it is impossible
to avoid remarking the vanity of that over-prudence
which labours to provide against all possible con-
tingencies. Had Swift, like any ordinary man in
his situation, been contented to share his limited
income with a deserving object of his affections, the
task of his biographers would have been short and
cheerful; and we should neither have had to record
nor to apologise for those circumstances which form
the most plausible charge against his memory.”
The following remarks are peculiarly happy, evinc-
ing that sterling good sense and knowledge of life
for which Swift's great biographer was, like himself,
so conspicuous above all his contemporaries:
"In the pride of talent and of wisdom he endea-
voured to frame a new path to happiness, and the
consequences have rendered him a warning where
the various virtues with which he was endowed
ought to have made him a pattern.
"Meanwhile, the risk of ill construction being so
carefully guarded against, Stella, with her beauty
and accomplishments, was not long without an ad-
mirer. She was then about eighteen; her hair of a
raven black.her features both beautiful and expressive,
and her form of perfect symmetry, though rather in-
clined to embonpoint. To these outward graces
txiv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
were added good sense, great docility, and uncom-
mon powers both of grave and gay conversation, and
a fortune which, though small, was independent."-
(Scott's"Memoirs of Swift," vol. i. p. 72.)
a
Neither were they ever known to meet but in
the presence of a third person. Sheridan says that
Swift's affection for Stella had not at this time kin-
dled into love. I think it proper to give some ex-
tracts from his memoir in his own words, because
they tend to prove that Mrs. Johnson's removal to
Ireland was not caused by any hopes or promises of
a
matrimonial connexion with Swift.-' Though
Stella's beauty was at that time arrayed in all the
pride of blooming eighteen, yet it is certain that he
never dropped the least hint that might induce her
to consider him in the light of a lover. In his whole
deportment he still maintained the character of a
tutor, a governor, and a friend.'
The truth,' says
Sheridan, 'is, that Swift at that time knewn ot what
the passion of love was. He had long entertained a
dislike to matrimony; he seems to have been under
the dominion of a still more powerful passion—that
of ambition. Urged by this reckless spirit, he every
year paid a visit to England, absenting himself for
some months from the duties of his parish and the
charming conversation of the amiable Stella.'
this statement Mr. M. very appositely replies—“ It
appears therefore that
•
To
"It
"He liked, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love.
"If the passion of ambition was so powerful as
to overcome that of love at this early period of Swift's
life, and that he could resist the allurements of youth
and beauty at a time when they have usually the
greatest influence, it is not credible that his love
should afterwards obtain such strength as to master his
ambition—a passion which usually gains strength
with years, and in propertion as the former loses its
power; especially as the temptations which before
existed, if they had not altogether lost their force,
must have been in a great measure weakened.".
("Historical Annals," p. 243.)
The preceding view is founded on close and ex-
cellent reasoning, as well as on a knowledge of
human nature, and Swift's character in particular.
It will also account for the conduct of the parties
more satisfactorily than upon any other theory; and
as a specimen of the contradictions upon this subject
we may mention that Hawksworth distinctly asserts
that Mrs. Johnson was buried in solitude, and
known only to Swift's most intimate acquaintance,
having no other female acquaintance but Mrs.
Dingley. And this passage is altered by Dr. John
Lyon, in his copy of Hawksworth's "Life of Swift,"
so as to express exactly the reverse.
sage
A curious pas-
also occurs in a letter from Mr. Thomas Swift
(the parson cousin, who laid claim to a share in
"The Tale of a Tub"), in which he asks (1706) “if
Jonathan be married? or whether he has been able
to resist the charms of both those gentlewomen that
marched quite from Moor-park to Dublin (as they
would have marched to the north or anywhere else),
with full resolution to engage him.'
"
It is not surprising that, Swift declining to avow
himself as a lover, other suitors should step forward
and become candidates for so fair a prize; for, in
addition to the graces of her person, there was some-
uing extremely fascinating in the vivacity of man-
ners and conversation of Miss Johnson. Among
The distance which existed during their whole lives between
Swift and Stella is exemplified by the following passage of a
letter from the former to Mr. Tickell, dated 7th July, 1726.
"I wonder how you could expect to see her in a morning, which
I. her oldest acquaintance, have not done these dozen years,
except once or twice in a journey." (Swift's Works.)
these the reverend William Tisdall, already on a
familiar footing with the parties, became one of her
admirers, and addressed a letter to Swift, then in
London. He received a reply from the doctor (dated
20th April, 1704) in the following dubious and sin-
gular terms:-"I might with good pretence enough
talk starchly and affect ignorance of what you woul
be at; but my conjecture is that you think I oh-
structed your inclinations to please my own, and
that my intentions were the same with yours; in
answer to all which I will upon my conscience and
honour tell you the naked truth. First, I think I
have said to you before, that if my fortunes and
humour served me to think of that state I should
certainly, among all persons on earth, make your
choice; because I never saw that person whose con-
versation I entirely valued but hers: this was the
utmost I ever gave way to. And, secondly, I must
assure you sincerely that this regard of mine never
once entered into my head to be an impediment to
you, but I judged it would perhaps be a clog to your
rising in the world, and I did not conceive you were
then rich enough to make yourself and her happy
and easy; but that objection is now quite removed
by what you have at present and by the assurances
of Eaton's livings. I told you, indeed, that your
authority was not sufficient to make overtures to
the mother without the daughter giving me leave
under her own or her friend's hand, which I think
was a right and prudent step. However, I told the
mother immediately, and spoke with all the advan-
tages you deserve; but the objection of your fortune
being removed, I declare I have no other; nor shall
any consideration of my own misfortunes in losing
so good a friend and companion as her prevail ou
me against her interest and settlement in the world,
since it is held so necessary and convenient a thing
for ladies to marry, and that time takes off from the
lustre of virgins in all other eyes but mine. I ap-
peal to my letters to herself whether I was not your
friend in the whole concern, though the part Í de-
signed to act in it was purely passive, which is the
utmost I will ever do in things of this nature, to
avoid all reproach of any ill consequences that may
ensue in the variety of worldly accidents: nay, I
went so far to her mother, herself, and I think to
you, as to think it could not be decently broken.
since I supposed the town had got it in their tongues;
and therefore I thought it could not miscarry with-
out some disadvantage to the lady's credit. I have
always described her to you in a manner different
from those who would be discouraging; and must
add that, though it has come in my way to converse
with persons of the first rank and of that sex more
than is usual to men of my level and of our function,
yet I have nowhere met with a humour, a wit, or
conversation so agreeable, a better portion of good
sense, or a truer judgment of men and things,-I
mean here in England, for as to the ladies in Ireland
I am a perfect stranger. As to her fortune, I think
you know it already; and if you resume your designs
or would have further intelligence, I shall send you
a particular account."
The cautious and distant tone adopted by Swift is
here remarkable, and assuredly no such letter was
ever penned by a lover to his rival. The lady's own
consent had not been obtained; and if she had ever
been influenced in her decision by hopes of Swift
coming forward, a recommendation like this, and
similar letters which he declares he had addressed
to Stella, were more than enough to extinguish
them for ever. It seems astonishing that with such
evidence before her, being indisputably a woman of
sense and spirit, she did not immediately marry, or
JONATHAN SWIFT.
XXI
up,
treat Swift thenceforward with perfect coolness and
indifference. At the same time the guardian and
friend ridiculed the lover, whom he declared that
he recommended, with unmerciful severity-seizing
his personal qualities and foibles to hold him if
a pro-
possible, in a more disgusting light; and it is
bable that he was not surprised to hear that Stella
had rejected him. Whether or not he suspected the
dean, he went about, in his rage of disappointment,
venting his spleen in the most opprobrious terms,
which he persevered in doing for many years. At
the same time we ought to state the case Swift
makes out for himself: "For the last fifteen years,
he says,
"he hath been often engaged in a flirting
war of satiric burlesque verse. In these combats he
has often fallen foul on persons who never dipped a
pen either for or against him. As to me, who, I
solemnly protest, was always innocent during the
whole time his pen and tongue took this unhappy turn,
as well before as since, I could never be one month
at peace for his wit: whatever was writ to ridicule
him was laid at my door, and only by himself."
Swift, it must be remembered, in setting out on
his literary career, made a resolution not to place
his name to his productions, and neither to avow nor
to consider himself accountable to any party for
them. His disavowal therefore, as in the case of
Butterworth, is worth nothing, and it is rather too
much to give him credit for bearing meekly the
attacks of Tisdall for fifteen years without returning
them with interest. There cannot be a doubt as to
the secret enmity and dislike manifest in Swift's letter,
M
and that when he wrote it he had sufficient reasons
for believing that Black Tisdall," whose unodor-
ous breath and other bodily infirmities he comme-
morated in song, would never be the accepted lover
of the accomplished and elegant Stella :-
"They say Black Tisdall's of your party,
And Tom and bold translator Carty.
Sir Walter Scott, whose correctness of observation
and whose singular power of penetrating real mo-
tives were not surpassed by any of his greatest pre-
decessors, expressly states that "Swift maintained a
long acquaintance with Tisdall without ever liking
him, and he certainly felt rivalry in the case of
Stella." In other words, he made profession of the
most perfect friendship; and the truth is, that the
vanity and the intense desire of being admired in
this extraordinary man were so great that he wished
to be esteemed and beloved by two of the loveliest
women of his times without incurring the cares and
responsibilities of married life in a station that would
have made him appear ridiculous in the eyes of his
greater clerical brethren. The entire tenor of his
life, his letters, and his character itself, with his in-
finite pride and love of dominion, support us in this
opinion, not before alluded to in the innumerable
theories advanced by different editors and biogra-
phers, though both Mr. Mitford and Mr. Mason ap-
proach very closely to this supposition. The former
observes that,
If Stella did not mistake the nature
of Swift's attachment, she did not consider the other
passions of his mind which might oppose or weaken
it of most men she probably would have judged
rightly; but unfortunately she had to speculate on
the motives of a person eminently singular in his
temper and his thoughts, inclined to move out of
the road which leads to general happiness, and to
find one more congenial to his own disposition.”—
("Life of Swift.")
■ “When a Roman was dying, the next man of kin
Stood over him gaping, to take his breath in.
Were Tisdall the same way to blow out his breath,
Suen a whit the living were much worse than death.”
VOL. I.
From the first, Swift's residence in Ireland appears
to have been compulsory, and his repeated visits to
England may be enumerated as among the "white
It was the
days" of his dark and chequered life.
land of his hopes, of "the milk and honey" of that
ambition of power which he so intensely coveted;
and in 1701, with a mind confident doubtless in its
own vast talents and resourees, he left his lovely
friends and his new parishioners without a sigh. It
is singular to observe how difficult it is even for a
man of extraordinary powers, under an arbitrary or
a mixed form of government, to make his weight
felt. It is different in republics and in limited
monarchies, in which a powerful church and aris-
tocracy have not already fixed their roots deeply and
widely in the vitals of the state. Even though cir-
cumstances had in the main strangely seconded the
views of Swift by his alliance and connexion with
the family of Temple, by his casual insight into the
history and politics of the times, and by his early
acquaintance with the political characters of the
day, it is a curious fact that he had made strenuous
efforts to distinguish himself, as appears from his
account of having burnt so many of his MS. papers,
and having visited England so frequently without
success. Upon his arrival this time, however (1710).
he found the public mind in a state of excitement
which followed the impeachment of the earls of
Portland and Oxford, lord Somers and lord Halifax,
on account of the part they had taken in the par-
tition treaty. It was upon this occasion that Swift
commenced that series of political tracts upon which
his fame as a great controversialist and a man of
consummate tact and talent, as well as of the most
enlightened views and principles as regards civil go-
vernment, political economy, and a true system of
finance, now so broadly rests. It was these subjects,
as they in succession occurred, which supplied him
with inexhaustible matter for his satire and wit; for
the follies and crimes of men, and the corruptions so
deeply engrafted in the systems of government, of
the church, law, physic, and science-monopolies,
bubble companies, and the base time-serving spirit so
predominant in the journals of the extreme parties
in the state-offered ample opportunities for in-
dulging his peculiar vein. The policy which Swift
appears to have had in view, and to have advocated
with unremitting ardour in his conversation, in his
letters, and in his more serious tracts, was that of a
moderator of the extreme parties in the state, and
of a high and orthodox disciplinarian in the eccle-
siastical government, which he considered an in-
tegral part of it.
It was by this peculiar distinction to which he re-
solutely adhered in all his writings that Swift in-
curred the charge of having deserted the Whig prin-
ciples, which he first advocated, it is asserted, in a
pamphlet-the only one he ever published in their
favour-to be attributed to his early connexion with
Temple, and with king William and his ministers,
who had certainly laid him under no obligation to
volunteer his wit in their support. As some corro-
boration of this supposed desertion of his principles,
it was brought against him by his political enemies
that he had enlisted himself even by name upon the
side of the then existing government, whose party
he subsequently abandoned, as plainly appeared in
the copy of verses a dressed to the honourable Mis.
Finch, afterwards his friend and correspondent, lavy
Winchelsea :-
And last, my vengeance to complete,
May you descend to take renown;
Prevail'd on by the thing you hate,
A Whig, and one who wears a gown.
xxvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
But if his accusers will only be at the pains of con-
sulting his character of a Whig in his " Arguments
against the Power of Bishops," they will perceive
the weight of the distinction we have pointed out.
It will be seen that of his true Whig principles
throughout life there cannot be the shadow of a
doubt that the inherent love of freedom, justice, and
patriotism embued all his views of civil government,
which it was the ambition of his life to reconcile to
those of a high churchman; an object which, in his
high enthusiasm for the amelioration of humanity
and for the public good, he as vainly sought to realise
as to reconcile the two rival statesmen, both of whom
were his friends. But he justly accused the Whigs
of dereliction of principle in their attempts to weaken
and subvert the church; and the extreme Tories, with
still greater justice, of aiming a death-blow at public
liberty, by endeavouring to restore the arbitrary rule
for which the first Charles lost his head, and to bring
about the ruin of the Whigs by an hypocritical attack
upon their system of corruption, war, and debt, for
which the said Tories were only ambitious of substitut-
ing the glorious reign of the pretender. It was in this
spirit of conciliation-a strange delusion to gain the
mastery of an intellect like Swift's, something like
that of his royal academy for the improvement of
the English tongue, but which at the same time
proves his humane and philanthropic disposition-
that he wrote, under cover of a masterly investigation
into the "Contests and Dissensions of Athens and
Rome," a correct and luminous review of the exist-
ing state of parties in England. It was published
without the name of the author; but upon his re-
turn to Ireland, in the warmth of conversation,
Swift seems to have been surprised into a confes-
sion, the only one upon record, that it was his pro-
duction. It was in fact ascribed to lord Somers, to
bishop Burnet, and others among the ablest Whig
writers; but the bishop was compelled, by the re-
sentment of parliament, to disown it; and Swift,
who had returned to Ireland, being taunted by the
bishop of Kilmore as a young inexperienced man
in denying Burnet to be the author, boldly de-
clared that he had written it. Upon his next visit
to England he had no longer the same motives for
concealing the authorship, and was courted by all
the great Whig leaders, who, so far from considering
that they had secured so powerful an ally, were
startled by the singular freedom and resolution with
which he reiterated the profession of his principles
in church and state; a declaration which they failed
to take advantage of, and recalled to mind too late,
upon the dismissal of the Godolphin ministry from
office.
The following passages from this able production,
not unworthy the classical historians he had so long
studied, will confirm the opinions we have given
and sufficiently refute the charge of a dereliction of
principle which not even the Whig leaders and their
partisans ventured to bring against him in the face
of so frank, manly, and clear-sighted a declaration.
"It was then I began to trouble myself with the
differences between the principles of Whig and Tory,
having formerly employed myself in other, and I
think much better, speculations. I talked often upon
this subject with lord Somers; I told him that, having
been long conversant with the Greek and Latin au-
thors, and therefore a lover of liberty, I found myself
much inclined to be what they call a Whig in politics,
and that besides I thought it impossible upon any
other principles to defend or submit to the revolu-
tion; but as to religion, I confessed myself to be a
high churchman, and that I could not conceive how
any one who wore the habit of a clergyman could be
:
otherwise that I had observed very well with what
insolence and haughtiness some lords of the high-
church party treated not only their own chaplains,
but all other clergymen whatsoever, and thought this
was sufficiently recompensed by their professions of
zeal to the church: that I had likewise observed how
the Whig lords took a direct contrary measure;
treated the persons of particular clergymen with
courtesy, but showed much contempt and ill will for
the order in general: that I knew it was necessary
for their party to make their bottom as wide as they
could, by letting all denominations of protestants to
be members of their body: that I would not enter
into the mutual reproaches made by the violent men
on either side, but that the connivance and encou-
ragement given by the Whigs to those writers of
pamphlets who reflected upon the whole body of the
clergy without any exception would unite the church
as one man to oppose them, and that I doubted his
lordship's friends would see the consequence of this."
It will shortly be seen how pertinaciously Swift
adhered to this public avowal of his opinions and prin-
ciples of action in public life, and how prophetic-
ally he foretold the signal failure of the Whigs-
their shipwreck upon that very rock which he gene-
rously discovered to their view. He had small thanks
from the leaders or their party, who, like all disap-
pointed men, felt only resentment for the advice by
which they had neglected to profit, and stood exposed
to the just reproaches of him who had uttered it.
Early in the ensuing year king William died; and
on his next arrival in London Swift found queen
Anne upon the throne. The Whigs seemed to have
established their power upon a firm' basis, but their
best friend and adviser held aloof; and it is a bold
assertion to hazard, though a true one, that no
government could be safe opposed to the principles
adopted by Swift, both in church and state, and to
the immense talents and powers of invective of one
skilled in every species of political warfare by dint
of long study and a practical knowledge of the mo-
tives and principles of human action.
The most interesting epoch of Swift's life is now
at hand; and, like the mathematician of old, he seem-
ed only to want a place for the fulcrum by which he
could move the system of his intellectual world. He
felt sensible of his rising importance, and with the
certainty of waking fame he possessed hope and con-
fidence in his increasing powers, and doubtless this
was the very happiest period of his existence. His
time was passed in a pleasant interchange of the
calm and soul-cheering duties of religion, in a most
liberal yet discriminating dispensing of charity truly
astonishing if compared with his poor resources, in
the chastened society of those whom he esteemed
and loved, and in occasional excursions, and regular
visits to England, where he soon shone distinguished
above all by his vast talents and varied acquirements;
awing the most abandoned political journals and
fiercest critics by the just dread of his lash and the
terror of his satiric fame. He had no fiery ordeal,
as with most other authors, through which he was
doomed to pass, although in the outset he had formed
some idea of it. His fine graphic and correct pic-
ture of a young writer's progress presents a happy
illustration; it was addressed about this period to
his friend Dr. Delany:-
"As some raw youth in country bred,
To arms by thirst of honour led,
When at a skirmish first he hears
The bullets whizzing round his ears,
Will duck his head, aside will start,
And feel a trembling at his heart,
Till 'scaping oft without a wound
Lessens the terror of the sound ;
C
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxvi
Fly bullets now as thick as hops.
He runs into a cannou s chaps;
Au author thus who pants tor fame,
Begins the world with fear and shame;
When first in print, you see hum dread
Each popgun levell'd at his head ;
The lead yon entie's quill contains
Is destin'd to beat out his brains;
As it he heard loud thunders roll,
Cries Lord have mercy on his soul !'
Coucluding that another shot
Would strike him dead upon the spot :
But when with squibbing, slashing, popping,
He cannot see one creature dropping;
That missing fire, or missing aim,
His life is sate,-I mean his fame :-
The danger past, takes heart of grace,
And looks a critic in the face.'
It was about the same period that Swift com-
menced his acquaintance with Addison and other
great writers of the day, in whose society he spent
some of his brightest hours, unalloyed for a season
with the coldness or the secret ill-will and enmity of
political feeling, which Swift, the generous friend
and benefactor of both parties, was anxious to avert.
Steele, Arbuthnot, and the other wits, sometimes
including Pope, were accustomed to assemble at
Button's, and Sheridan has left us a humorous ac-
count of the doctor's first introduction to men whose
names are now almost inseparably connected with
his own. Though the greatness of Swift's talents
was known to many in private life, and his company
and conversation much sought after and admired,
get his name was little noised in the republic of
letters. The only pieces which he had yet published
were "The Battle of the Books" and "The Contests
and Dissensions in Athens and Rome." Nor was
he personally known, excepting to Mr. Congreve
and one or two more with whom he had contracted
an intimacy at sir William Temple's. It was related
by Ambrose Philips that they had for several days
observed a strange clergyman come into the coffee-
house who seemed utterly unacquainted with any of
those who frequented it, and whose custom it was to
lay his hat down on a table, and walk backward and
forward at a good pace for half an hour without
speaking to any mortal or seeming in the least to
attend to anything that was going forward there.
He then used to take up his hat, pay his money at
the bar, and walk away without opening his lips.
They at last concluded him to be out of his senses,
and the name that he went by among them was that
of the mad parson.
This made them more than
usually attentive to his motions; and one evening, as
Mr. Addison and the rest were observing him, they
saw him cast his eyes several times upon a gentle-
man in boots who seemed to be just come out of
the country, and at last advance towards him as
intending to address him. They were all eager to
hear what this dumb parson had to say, and imme-
diately quitted their scats to get near him. Swift
went up to the country gentleman, and in a very
abrupt manner, without any previous salute, asked
him, "Pray, sir, do you know any good weather in
the world?" After staring a little at the singularity
of Swift's manner and the oddity of the question,
the gentleman answered, "Yes, sir, I thank God, I
remember a great deal of good weather in my time."
"That is more," said Swift, "than I can say; I never
remember any weather that was not too hot or too
cold, too wet or too dry; but, however God Almighty
contrives it, at the end of the year 'tis all very well."a
-("Sheridan's Life.")
H
Another anecdote, attributed to the same parties at the
same place, is as follows:-Swift was seated by the fire; there
was sand on the floor of the coffeehouse; and Arbuthnot, witn
a design to play upon this original figure, offered him a letter
which he had been just addressing, saying at the same time,
There are numerous other anecdotes-and per-
haps more veracious-found scattered among the
correspondence and other works of Swift, of which
the practical jest he played off upon lady Berkeley
offers a fair specimen. Being wearied with the mo-
notonous task of reading Boyle's "Meditations" to
her ladyship, he hit off an admirable imitation, en-
titled "Meditations upon a Broomstick," which her
ladyship listened to with the utmost gravity, as a
beautiful composition of the pious and learned au-
thor.
•
In 1701 appeared the celebrated "Tale of a Tub,"
which, though shown in manuscript at sir W. Tem-
ple's, and to a few of the author's friends, and kept
by him during eight years, was now published with-
out a name. The club at Button's it is said were
not a little astonished to find the eccentric parson
everywhere pointed out as the writer of this uuri-
valled performance. It became the general topic of
the day, and excited public attention in an uncom-
mon degree. The noted Sacheverell, meeting Smal-
ridge, flattered him by affecting to believe him the
author, when the latter it is recorded replied in au
indignant tone,-"Sir, not all that you and I have
in the world should hire me to write The Tale of a
Tub.' "a
In fact there is little doubt that it made
him numerous enemies in high quarters, not except-
ing queen Anne and her court; and it probably
proved a bar to his advancement in addition to his
satiric effusions upon the favourites of the queen.
The author has reason." observed Atterbury, "to
conceal himself, because of the profane strokes in
that piece, which would do his reputation and inte-
rest in the world more harm than his wit can do
him good." Though written to promote the interests
of the high-church party, it was considered by super-
ficial readers as profane; some even of the Tories
were displeased at the freedom of the satire: both
King and Wotton published answers to it, and upon
the continent it was very unfairly construed by Vol-
taire and his followers into a covert design to advance
the cause of scepticism and infidelity. Men of judg-
ment, taste, and literary discrimination, however,
did full justice to the motives by which the great
satirist was actuated; and the most able and esti-
mable belonging to all parties were soon added to
the list of his friends and admirers; while the great
leaders, whether Whigs or Tories, struck with the
splendid and powerful display of talent, the bold
correct allegory, the vivacity of the wit, and the
rapid vehement vigour of the style, became propor-
tionally eager to secure so resistless a champion for
their respective ranks. Swift might have made his
own terms; but, adhering resolutely to the distinction
he had made with regard to his principles of action,
he was for some time afraid of joining the Tories,
from the extreme violence of a section—the leaders of
the October Club,—or to coalesce with the Whigs, on
account of their desire to render the church com-
pletely subordinate and instrumental to objects of
heads of both parties, and in particular Addison and
state. Many of Swift's intimate friends, including the
Steele, being perfectly aware of the peculiar views en-
tertained by him, never dreamed of charging him
with inconsistency in refusing his support to the ex-
"There sand that." "I have got no sand," answered Swift,
"but I can help you to a little gravel." This he said so si:-
nideantly that Arbuthnot hastily snatched back his letter to
save it from the fate of the capital of Lilliput. Their ac-
quaintance had not then however ripened into intimacy.—
(Scott's "Life of Swift," p. 83.)
During the latter years of his life. it is said that Mrs.
Whiteway observed the dean looking over this singular pro-
duction, when, all at once closing the book, "Good God!' he
exclaimed "what a genius I had when I wrote that!" He also
considered it the cause of his favour with lord Oxtoid's ministry.
e 2
xxvii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
1
tremes of either party, and in finally making his
selection to join the ministry which acted most in
unison with his views of the church. His friend
Addison, who had recently published his Travels, at
this period (1704-5) sent him a copy of them with
expressive marks of his highest esteem and regard.ª
Among other distinguished men with whom Swift
was already intimate, not merely upon political
grounds, except so far as he was invariably the
strenuous advocate of Ireland,-were lords Somers,
Halifax, and Pembroke; and to his other literary
connexions he shortly added the acquaintance of
Prior, Parnell, Garth, Philips, and more especially
Philips, and more especially
Pope and Gay, to both of whom he became warmly
attached.
Whigs, and other causes were not wanting to aggra-
vate the soreness felt upon both sides. The influ-
ence of Harley was beginning to be felt, and the
Whig leaders taking the alarm, and finding their
efforts to attach Swift to their cause in vain, wisely
resolved to send him out of the way. With the va-
cillation of a sinking party they successively designed
for him the post of secretary to the embassy at
Vienna, and afterwards the bishopric of Virginia,
with supreme authority over the clergy of the pro-
vince-both offers which in the outset of his career
Swift might have listened to; but court influence and
the Wharton faction in the ministry prevailed, leav-
ing Swift fired with resentment and eagerly watch-
ing his opportunity to inflict a signal revenge. As
he emphatically expresses it in his Journal, " he had
more mischief in his heart," and he was bent upon
"giving it to the scoundrel Whigs all round;" the
recollection of Somers' coldness, Halifax's treachery,
Berkeley's corrupt and base violation of his pro-
abandoned character, having raised a storm of indig-
nation in his breast which only their utter disgrace
and humiliation could appease. The spirit of his
political animosity indeed may be said to have per-
vaded all his writings from this period; while, to
give them at once a keener edge and to secure for
them a wider and more extensive range of influence,
if possible to the perpetual exposure and ignominy
of his enemies, he couched them in a succession of
exquisitely wrought allegories, commenced with his
Tale of a Tub," and brought to still higher per-
fection in his Gulliver's Travels," that wonder-
ful illusion of intellectual painting, and his crown-
ing triumph of the imaginative faculty. Where
there exists power, the will to avenge is seldom
wanting; "Vengeance is mine" is ever the motto
of sovereignty in the natural as in the intellectual
and moral world; and we are to remember that
Swift's incentives to fiery action were newly im-
pelled by the studied neglect and indignities cast by
the Whigs upon that reformed church of which he was
a member, by their corrupt and lavish expenditure,
their interested and nefarious prosecution of an in-
terminable war, and its consequent progeny of taxes,
These combined causes
famine, and national debt.
After the appearance of "The Tale of a Tub," up
to the year 1708, Swift-though actively engaged in
the composition of several works, forming part of
that series of political allegories which requires the
exercise of the highest genius, to be brought out at
the precise period to attain some definite object-mises, with Wharton's unprincipled conduct and
remained a close but calm observer, and published
few pieces of any interest. He had prepared a
masterly reply to the deistical opinions of Tindal,
but seems to have been deterred from its completion
by more important engagements. It aims some
powerful blows however at "the infidels and latitu-
dinarians," and covertly also at the Whigs, of whose
policy in regard to the church he was an uncompro-
mising enemy.
He struck hard at the alliance be-
tween low-church doctrines, dissent, and infidelity,
which he considered to form part of the character of
the reigning Whigs. He wished to inscribe upon
his political banner the principles of high-church
independence combined with civil liberty, as both
forming an integral part of the British constitution,
but neither to be maintained by subserviency to the
other. To allay the extreme violence of parties, to
prove his own consistent views, and to show how
far it was impossible for him to unite with the
Whigs, he wrote his "Sentiments of a Church of
Englaud Man;" a production which caused the first
estrangement between him and the heads of the
party then in power. He found that no efforts to
reconcile high-church principles with Whig politics
were likely to be attended with success; he was
compelled to make his choice between two evils;
and, consulting the dignity and character of his
order, he considered that in joining the existing op-
position he chose the least. He boldly declares the
motives by which he was actuated—his veneration
for the church of England, and its government by
convocation upon independent interests; while at
the same time he as strenuously advocates the prin-
iples of the revolution. "In order," he concludes,
"to preserve the constitution entire in church and
state, whoever has a true value for both would be
sure to avoid the extremes of Whig for the sake of
the former, and the extremes of Tory on account of
the latter."
Opinions like these, even more strongly than the
author's "Letter on the Sacramental Test," tended
farther to widen the breach between him and the
a in a blank leaf at the commencement of the book Addison
wrote-
'To Dr. Jonathan Swift,
The most agreeable companion,
The truest friend.
And the greatest genins of his age,
This book is presented by his
Most humble servant,
THE AUTHOR.'
b "I amuse myself sometimes with writing verses to Mrs.
Finch, and sometimes with projects for the uniting of parties,
which I perfect overnight and burn in the morning."-(Letter
so col. Hunter, Jan 12th, 1708-9.)
of offence in Swift's estimation, whether well or ill
founded, offered powerful instruments by which to
work the utter downfall of a tottering ministry; and
he availed himself of them with unscrupulous eager-
ness; inflicting successive blows, till with his merci-
less tomahawk he bore away with the merriment of
the Indian warrior the scalps of the discomfited
Whigs, not excepting the hero of Blenheim, who in
vain expressed his anxious desire to soften the re-
sentment of Dr. Swift.
In 1708 he followed up his first attack in a tract
entitled "An Argument against Abolishing Chris-
tianity," admitted on all hands to be an exquisite
specimen of successful irony. He found time also
for a humorous exposure of one of the prevailing
superstitions of the day, in his "Predictions for the
Year 1708," under the name of Isaac Bickerstaff, m
• The earl of Wharton evinced an extremo desire to remove
the sacramental test; another offence in the eyes of Swift, al-
ready in arms against him. The Whig party gave out in re-
taliation, that when Somers introduced Swift to Wharton as a
fit person to be his chaplain, the latter auswered, alluding to
Swift's supposed opinions on religion, "We must not encourage
these fellows; we have not character enough ourselves;" a sar-
casm Swift did not fail to avenge. In addition to his Short
Character," he fell upon the devoted Whig by depicting him
under the character of Verres, in one of the numbers of the
Examiner and his "Letter to a Member of Parliament in
Ireland" has immediate reference to the subject of the abolition
of the sacramental test.
t
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxix
which he prognosticated the death of the great
soothsayer Partridge himself, which was to take
place on the 29th of March about eleven at night.
The astrologer in his wrath published a serious
reply. protesting that he was not dead, and that all
were kuaves who reported otherwise; but this only
brought down on him the "Vindication of Isaac,"
to the no small entertainment of the public.
The success of this exquisite burlesque is said to
have induced Steele to assume a nom de guerre of
so much popular attraction, and the papers which
Swift generously contributed gave support to the
heavy calibre of that unlucky writer's wit, who,
when left without his friend Addison and other
adventitious support, sunk to the level for which
nature had designed him. During the ensuing
year, Swift produced his "Project for the Advance-
ment of Religion," addressed to lady Berkeley; a
project of which Johnson correctly observes that it
is formed with just purity of intention, and dis-
played with sprightliness and elegance; it can only
be objected that, like many other projects, if not
generally impracticable, it is yet evidently hopeless,
as it supposes more zeal, concord, and perseverance,
than a view of mankind gives reason for expecting."
He might have added that in this singular produc-
tion the author had likewise a political object; and
that, while endeavouring to inculcate the principles
of religion and virtue, he still aimed at pulling down
from "their bad eminence," as he conceived it, his
now sworn enemies the Whigs. Immediately after
its publication, Swift returned to Ireland, still ac-
tively engaged in prosecuting his political warfare, to
which he doubtless attributed, with the assistance of
Harley's intrigues, the ensuing fall of the Whig
inistry under Godolphin and Somers, when the
Tories came into power. Swift, who had spent some
of his happiest hours during this visit in Addison's
society, at that time secretary to loid Wharton, was
roused by this event to fresh efforts, and a perfectly
new scene opened upon his aspiring mind.
The Irish clergy it seems had long complained of the
Payment of twentieth parts and first-fruits, which had
1 een remitted in England, but all their efforts to obtain
he same boou had proved unavailing. As early as
1708 Swift had displayed his zeal and activity in the
rish convocation, and he was now invited by the lord
primate of Ireland and the other bishops to negotiate
with Mr. Harley, who had so successfully exerted
his influence for the English clergy, and was already
aware of Swift's hostility to the Whigs, and the man-
ner in which he conceived he had, like himself, been
injuriously and even insultingly treated by the heads
of that powerful party,b Full credentials having
been prepared, Swift once more quitted his residence
at Laracor, and arrived in London early in Septem-
In his "Journal to Stella" he observes (p. 31), "Lord
Halifax began a health to me to day It was the resurrection of
the Whigs, which I refused, unless he would add their reform-
ation too; and I told him he was the only Whig in England
I loved or had any good opinion of" Halifax, it is asserted,
had intimated a desire to make Swift a prebendary of West-
minster, but this the latter valued as it deserved. So great was
his dislike of Somers, that he not only called him in his Jour-
ual "a false, deceitful rascal," but represented his weaknesses
and vices, în more than one of his traers, in the most odious
colours.
"Swift was extremely anxious that Harley should have the
full honour of granting the request of the Irish clergy, and
was much dissatisfied with the directions ho received from the
bishops to solicit from the duke of Ormond what he judged
nad already been conceded by the premier."-(Scott)
"It appears that, in addition to his inimitably humorous
attack on Partridge, a blesque account of whose grievances
was published by Dr. Yaldeu, he had in Ireland employed his
leisure moments in preparing his famous "Prediction of Mer-
lin," the British wizard, giving, in a happy inntation of the style
of Lily, a commentary o. some black-lo ter verses most ingeni-
|
ber, 1710, at a moment when party violence was at
its height. There was no longer a prospect that the
moderate measures he had so strenuously advocate l
would produce the least effect, and as his political
opinions turned chiefly upon zeal for the interests of
his order, he declined all further overtures from the
Whigs; and as, according to his own maxim, no good
citizen could remain neutral in such a situation of
affairs, he chose his party, and the good fortune of
the Tories prevailed.
**
my
ill-
In that interesting narrative of events and anec-
dotes which he now commenced (“Journal to
Stella") he describes the impression produced by
his appearance on the scene of action, and the
efforts made by the Whig party to win back so
redoubtable a champion to their camp. "All the
Whigs," he says, "were ravished to see me, and
would have laid hold on me as a twig to save them
from sinking; and the great men were all making
their clumsy apologies. It is good to see what a la-
mentable confession the Whigs all make of
usage." As a further index to the motives by which
he was actuated, and which bears out the judicious
view taken of his conduct at this period by sir Walter
Scott, we quote another passage which very signifi-
cantly points to his future conduct in the fierce po-
litical struggles which ensued. "I should be terribly
vexed to see things come round again; it would
ruin the church and the clergy for ever. He had
observed also with disgust that, on the approaching
fall of the Whig administration, lord Wharton, who
in his pride of power had treated him in the most
arrogant style, suddenly changed his demeanour and
affected to caress him, with the insidious design, as
Swift suspected, of bringing him into discredit with
the church party.
The Tories, on their side, were
not without alarm, and how strong were their ap-
prehensions of those early Whig opinions which he
had been known to entertain with regard to civil
policy may be inferred from the avowal of the Tory
leaders themselves (June 30, 1711), in the intimacy
of friendship which ensued, "that Swift was the
only man in England of whom they were afraid.”
He had moreover experienced a cool reception from
Godolphin, which he bitterly revenged by his cut
ting lampoon of "Sid Hamet," which met with asto
nishing success and was read with loud applause
at Harley's table, though not then suspected to b
Swift's. The circumstances attending the fall of
the Godolphin ministry, accelerated by the lengths
to which they carried their prosecution of Sachever-
ell, and the high Tory excitement which it producer
throughout the nation, are too generally known to
require comment, and we shall proceed with Swift'
own account of his interview with the new minister
given in his correspondence with archbishop King:
"As soon as I received the packets from your grace
I went to wait upon Mr. Harley. I had prepared
him before by another hand, where he was very in-
timate, and got myself represented (which I might
justly do) as one extremely ill used by the last mi-
nistry, after some obligations, because I refused to go
certain lengths they would have me." He also states
more particularly in his Journal (Oct. 4, 1710),
"Mr. Harley received me with the greatest respect
and kindness imaginable, and appointed me an ho
two or three days after to open my business to him."
ously composed in enigmatical reference to the occurrences of
the time.”—(Scott.) Nearly at the same period he produced
his verses on "Baucis and Philemon," those on "Vaubrugh's
House at Whitehall," with some other light pieces of occasional
humour, like the controversy with Partridge, and similar levi-
ties, better known to the general reader than tho-e able and pow
erful political treatises which obtained or him so high a ro
putation aud such extensive influence a' the time.
XXX
LIFE AND WORKS OF
It would appear that the new minister's courteous
and bland demeanour was highly pleasing to Swift's
pride, contrasted with the usage he declares he had
experienced from the Whigs: he was met upon that
footing of equality which his genius and temper ex-
acted; there were no shifts or subterfuges had re-
course to; a gentlemanly frankness was observed on
both sides; and after inquiring into the measures the
ministry meant to adopt, and finding they were
moderate with regard to politics, and zealous and
decided in favour of the high-church interests so
much in unison with his own views, he engaged to
support them with his whole heart and strength.
The object of his mission necessarily led to frequent
interviews with the first minister, and these afforded
opportunities for a mutual confidence and respect
which terminated in the most unreserved and lasting
friendship. "I must tell you," he writes (Journal,
October 7th), "a great piece of refinement in Har-
ley. He charged me to come and see him often; I
told him I was loth to trouble him in so much busi-
ness as he had, and desired I might have leave to
come at his levee, which he immediately refused, and
said that was no place for friends!”
In a few days he states the satisfactory progress
he was making, though Harley was a man noted for
his procrastinating spirit, even in affairs that vitally
concerned the interests of his administration.
Harley tells me (October 10th) he has shown my
memorial to the queen and seconded it very hearti-
ly; because, said he, the queen designs to signify
it to the bishops of Ireland in form, and take notice
that it was done upon a memorial from you;'
which he said he did to make it look more respectful
to me. I believe never anything was compassed so
soon; and purely done by my personal credit with
Mr. Harley, who is so excessively obliging that I
know not what to make of it, unless to show the
rascals of the other party that they used a man un-
worthily who had deserved better." And he adds
(October 14th), "I stand with the new people ten
times better than ever I did with the old, and ten
times more caressed.'
Swift now clearly saw, from the extreme violence
of the opposite party, that Harley's administration
stood in need of every support to obtain a perma-
nent footing both with the queen and the nation.
To do this it was necessary to produce a marked
change in public opinion, not only to influence but
to sway the popular mind in regard to great questions
which called for the most refined policy, combined
with a degree of skill and dexterity which few con-
troversialists ever possessed. It was no less than
striking at the power and humbling the pride of the
powerful party that had ruled alike the senate and
the court, and contrived, by the illusion of military
glory and the most corrupt practices, to render war
and its public burdens almost popular, and by
means of a national debt and a factitious moneyed
interest, before unknown. to strike their fangs deep
into the vitals of the state. It was, in fact, to pro-
duce a revolution in the temper and feelings of the
nation that Swift now summoned his transcendent
powers, and they proved equal to the herculean
task he was so bold to undertake; its success fixed
tae Tories firmly in their seats, which they retained
up to the close of queen Anne's reign.
"The pre-
sent ministry have a difficult task," he says (Nov.
29th, 1710), "and want me. According to the best
judgment I have, they are pursuing the true interest
of the public, and therefore I am glad to contribute.
all that lies in my power."
The writers upon both sides now prepared for the
glad atorial struggle that was to decide the fortune
of the Tories still trembling in the balance, or the
permanent humiliation of their foes. No stronger
testimony to the celebrity already obtained by Swift
can be adduced than that the best Tory leaders in
so perilous a juncture intrusted to Swift alone the
entire control and conduct of their political organ
the "Examiner," before supported by the combined
efforts of men like St. John, Atterbury, and Prior.
He hesitated not a moment, though ranged on the
other side he must have beheld with pain his friends
Addison and Congreve, with bishop Burnet, Steele,
and Rowe. He took up the controversial fla
with the strength of a giant and the resolution of
a martyr, who risked all to insure the triumph of
the church to which he was so attached, to support
the cause he had embraced, and doubtless to wreak
his vengeance upon the men by whom he had been
neglected in their prosperous day. No wonder that
Addison prudently withdrew from the field; he
knew the colossal power of such an adversary, the
temper of his keen and trenchant blade, the resist-
less vigour with which he beat down every fence.
and the merciless speed with which he pursued and
trampled upon a routed foe. Besides, his more
gentle and placid nature shrank from such an en-
counter with one whose genius, from his own ad-
mission, is to be placed in the highest rank, whose
friendship he had cultivated, and whose respect
and esteem, spite of all party feelings, he knew
that he possessed.ª
The
Swift's first paper of the "Examiner" appeared in
little more than a month after his introduction to
Harley; and he continued them till the middle of
the following year, when, having attained the de-
clared objects for which he wrote, he abandoned
the undertaking as comparatively useless to his ul-
terior plans. During this period he grew into
entire confidence with the ministry, was admitted to
their privy councils held at Harley's house, and in
all the great questions of state became at once their
guide, philosopher, and friend, taking the unerring
lead, and marshalling them the way to success with
a singular foresight and sagacity bordering on
the prophetic, and with a judgment which never
failed him in the most trying crisis of events.
popularity of his writings at the same time was pro-
ducing a gradual but decided change in public
opinion, and met with almost unprecedented suc-
cess. The observation made by the lord-keeper
Harcourt seems very applicable to his strenuous
efforts in the outset, to the effect produced by them,
and to the confidential situation in which he stood
as the adviser, no less than the Sampson-like cham-
pion, of their cause.
pion, of their cause. "Dr. Swift," he observed, “is
not only our favorite, but he is our governor"—an
observation it would be difficult to believe without
strong evidence besides that of Swift, and our know-
ledge how widely and deeply the influence of a con-
summate political genius and the mastery of lofty in-
Nor was
dividual mind and nerve can extend.
there any undue assumption in this; it was the
result of his intellectual position, and until he ob-
tained a solid footing in the ministerial confidence,
upon which he could think and act, could display
his real character and his power, we observe that
he always conducted himself with the same courtesy
and deference towards his superiors in rank as other
• Addison soon detected the new auxiliary, says Mr. Milord,
and retired from the field; though Dr. Johnsou considers that
his papers were superior to his antagonist's.
Dr. Johnson, according to Scott, overlooked the circumstance
of Addison's previous retirement when he iepresented the con-
troversy as conducted between Swift and his fiend. The last
Whig Examiner" is dated 12th October, 1719; and No. xiii. of
the "Examiner," the first written by swift, the 2nd of Novem-
ber, an interval of three weeks.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
IJX
people; requested to be admitted at the minister's
levee from fear of annoying him in his affairs, and
called many times upon him on his first arrival without
seeing him. He had also expressed his fears to his
friend Addison, at the same time asking his advice
with regard to coming to England, and the little
prospect there appeared of his being preferred in
his profession by either party. How, therefore, he
How, therefore, he
so soon carried it with the high and the strong
hand towards the greatest personages in the state,
we are at a loss to account for, except on the sup-
position of that strong intellectual faculty which
raises its possessor to pre-eminence, subdues and
commands all feebler minds, and moulds even obsta-
cles and circumstances the most untoward to its spe-
Soon we see he quarrels with the first
cial purpose.
minister, whose notice he had before courted with
so much deference that he sent a messenger before
to bespeak his regard on the ground that he was an
ill-used man, as if he had been some poor traveller,
without protection or the power of retaliation, sud-
denly set upon by Whig highwaymen and robbers.
Harley must have smiled at this politic and modest
demeanour in a man of the doctor's character; and
the affected deference for the advice of Addison
when he had doubtless made up his own mind
equally shows the manner in which he concealed his
opinion of his own powers and the objects he had
in view. But once raised upon the shoulders of the
men in power his genius rose equal to the occasion,
beyond the expectations of those most interested in
his success, and far beyond even the dread of enemies
who fell under the lash of his withering satire.
deeply and justly did he feel offended at the premier
sending him a bank-bill for 501. that he refused to
take him into favour unless he made an apology
(one seldom required on that score), and as a farther
humiliation sent the prime minister of Great Britain
into the house with a message to the secretary to in-
form him that Dr. Swift could not dine with him
that day if he dined late. And in another part of
his Journal he warns St. John "not to appear cold to
him at any time, for he would not be treated like a
schoolboy; that he would not bear it from a crowned
head, and he thought no subject's favour worth it."
So
There can be no doubt that a man who took
these freedoms must have felt his power, and how
indispensable that power was conceived to be for
maintaining in their seats those who could brook
such airs as the price of their existence as a ministry.
Nor did he only exact this marked respect for him-
self; he set up a new standard for the conduct of the
court and aristocracy towards men of talent and merit,
as in the case of Parnell and his other friends, very
different to any observed in the days of Butler or
Dryden. He would have the ministers to consider it
their duty as well as an honour to court the society
of men of genius and worth, on higher grounds and
from nobler motives than the obsequious flatteries
and mean compliances they had been accustomed to
receive; and this example, seconded by writers of high
talent and independent feeling, like Pope and Addi-
son, first emancipated our literature from its degrad-
ing servility to rank and power, and transferred it
to the patronage of the public and the world. If he
sometimes carried this spirit to undue lengths, and
exercised the powers he had grasped with harshness,
let us remember the cold insulting receptions he first
met with from the Whigs, and the manner in which
it is equally clear the Tory ministry would also have
treated him and his friends if he had chosen to sub-
mit to their terms instead of assuming this high and
independent deportment.
"I dined to-day," he says (Nov. 11, 1710),
ments.
"by invitation, with the secretary of state, Mr. St.
John. Mr. Harley came in to us before dinner, and
made me his excuses for not dining with us, because
he was to receive people who came to propose the
The secretary
advancing of money to government.
used me with all the kindness in the world. Prior
came in after dinner, and upon an occasion the
secretary said to him, The best thing I ever read
is not yours, but Dr. Swift on Vanbrugh;' which I
do not reckon so very good neither: but Prior was
damped till I stuffed him with two or three compli-
He told me among other things that Mr.
Harley complained he could keep nothing from me,
I had the way so much of getting into him." Had
this ministry stood upon a firmer basis probably they
would have shown Swift less deference and respect,
but they felt the want of both his political sagacity
and controversial talent, and doubtless bumoured
him "up to the top of his bent." Harley, after the
defeat of the Whigs, had to guard against those of
his own party who were determined Jacobites or
high-flying Tories, resolved not only on victory but
revenge; and to balance the furious activity of these
factions, which at length, under St. John's guidance,
undermined his power, he kept in place a consider-
able number of the Whig party. Swift early saw
and warned him of the peril to which he was ex-
posed, not so much from this temporising policy, to
which he was favourable till the ministry gained
strength and confidence, but from the discord be-
tween the leaders to which it gave rise. This, from
the beginning he pronounced, would be the rock
upon which the ministry would split: "It stood,"
he said, "like an isthmus, between the Whigs on
one side and the violent Tories on the other. They
are able seamen, but the tempest is too great, the
ship too rotten, and the crew all against them."
is only surprising how, with such elements to con-
tend against, they continued, supported even by
Swift's pilot genius and judgment, to weather the
storm so long as they did; but not a day or hour
passed in which he was not attempting in some way to
steer them clear of the dangers that threatened on all
sides. It would seem, however, that misunderstand-
ings were the order of the day, from which the great
pilot himself was not exempt; for he broke out into
mutiny and declared that he would desert the ship.
"Mr. Harley (Feb. 6, 1710-11) desired me to dine
with him again to-day, but I refused him; for I fell
out with him yesterday, and will not see him again
till he makes me amends." He had been insulted
by the offer of a bank-bill, and adds, (Feb. 7.) “i
was this morning early with Mr. Lewis of the se-
cretary's office, and saw a letter Mr. Harley had
sent him, desiring to be reconciled; but I was deat
to all entreaties, and have desired Lewis to ge to him
and let him know I expected further satisfaction.
If we let these great ministers pretend too much
there will be no governing them. He promises to
make me easy if I will but come and see him; but
I won't, and he shall do it by message, or I will cast
him off." Swift accordingly received the apologies
which he conceived due to the position in which he
stood, and Harley and his friend and adviser became
It
more intimate than before the failure of this at-
tempt to place the latter on the footing of a hireling
writer.
It would seem that he treated St. John with equal
and even greater freedom when occasion called for
it, and says (Feb. 25), “I dined to-day with Mr.
secretary St. John, on condition I might choose my
company, which were lord Rivers, lord Carteret, sir
T. Mansel, and Mr. Lewis. I invited Masham, Hill,
sir John Stanley, and George Granille, but they
•
xxxii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
were engaged; and I did it in revenge of his having
such bad company when I dined with him before.
So we laughed, &c." It would appear, however,
that the secretary also knew how to take his revenge,
for we are told "he put a cheat upon the doctor"
by intercepting six dozen of excellent Burgundy
which lord Peterborough had sent to be forwarded
to Swift's cellar; but the secretary was "never quiet
till they were all gone, so I reckon he owes me
thirty-six pounds."
เ
No time was lost in preparing for a trial of
strength between the two great contending parties,
and Swift was constant in his attendance at the pre-
mier's weekly council. I dined with Mr. Harley
to-day” (March 3, 1710-11). "Every Saturday lord-
keeper, secretary St. John, and I dine with him, and
sometimes lord Rivers, and they let in none else.
I stayed with Mr. Harley till nine, when we had
much discourse together after the rest were gone, and
I gave him very truly my opinion when he desired it."
That opinion was often wanted, for the Whig
leaders had prepared a powerful opposition and re-
newed their intrigues more assiduously than ever at
court. Lord Somers was known to have been more
than once closeted with the queen; the duchess of
Somerset, far more artful and insinuating than her
predecessor the duchess of Marlborough, now held
the key; the extreme Tories took the alarm, headed
by their October Club, and were urging the ministers
to adopt bolder measures. To restrain their ardour,
and at the same time to counteract the Whig efforts,
was now the double task of Swift, and he girded up
his loins to the combat with the spirit of a partisan
determined to spare no means to pull down his ene-
mies and to load them with obloquy and contempt.
With this view he scrupled not to attack their cha-
racters, spared not their private history; their
foibles, their vices, were all rendered subordinate to
the writer's triumph, impelled by the fiery spirit of
the polemic, carried to a height which no powers of
genius and wit should perhaps be allowed to sanction
or excuse. Marlborough, Godolphin, Sunderland,
Cowper, and Walpole, were treated with the utmost
freedom from all respect of persons, in a way hitherto
unpractised: their weaknesses, avarice, or corruption,
were boldly exposed, and, as regarded private affairs,
with an acrimony and violence by no means justifi-
able. These repeated attacks on their main posi-
tions from the "Examiner" were made more murder-
ous and annoying from a continual running fire kept
up by his poetic wit and humour in a rapid series of
pamphlets, poems, and periodical papers, under the
management of writers whom he termed his under-
strappers. Godolphin, still smarting under "Sid
Hamet's Rod," was only kept in countenance by the
more bitter lampoons discharged at the "virtuous
Somers" and his old enemy the earl of Wharton, in
"A short Character" of him and his Irish govern-
ment, in the course of which the author expresses
his regret that the facts he brought against the lat-
ter were chiefly of a moral and flagitious character,
which exceeded their political criminality, so artfully
conducted as unfortunately not to afford grounds for
the legal impeachment which he so well deserved.
This desperate and uncompromising hostility, so
little expected, seemed to astound the Whigs and
carry terror into their ranks; but the advantages to
have been reaped from it were lost by the outbreak
of fresh divisions in the Tory camp. With some
difficulty he reconciled the jealous leaders, and, fol-
lowing up his blows against the enemy in quick suc-
cession, brought out his tract in defence of Harley,
Remarks upon a Letter to the Seven Lords who
examined Greg," his "Advice to the Members of
L
the October Club;" and was already directing his
thoughts towards that revolution in public opinion to
which he so greatly contributed-the opening of ne-
gotiations for the establishment of a peace.
Among the most interesting events alluded to in
his Journal from the commencement of this first
campaign-hardly less arduous than that of his great
enemy Marlborough—we meet with the following
passages, highly characteristic of the towering pride
and ambition, as well as the zealous indefatigable
spirit, of the writer. "I have taken (Feb. 13th) Mr.
Harley into favour again;" and being farther concili-
ated by their bland deference and wise submission
to his councils, his vanity breaks out again in this self-
sufficient but frank avowal. (Feb. 17th.) "The mi-
nisters are good honest hearty fellows: I use them
like dogs, because I expect they will use me so.
They call me nothing but Jonathan, and I said I
believed they would leave me Jonathan as they
found me, and that I never knew a minister do
anything for those whom they make companions of
their pleasures; and I believe you will find it so,
but I care not.'
How closely he observed the conduct and demean-
our of the men engaged in the bold and perilous
cause in which he was embarked, staking reputation
and future prospects, and nailing as it were his
colours to the mast-head, is apparent from the fol-
lowing brief remarks:-"I dined (April, 1711)
with the secretary, who seemed terribly down and
melancholy, which Mr. Prior and Lewis observed as
well as I perhaps something is gone wrong-per-
haps there is nothing in it." And it is amusing to
see how he followed up any idea that once took
possession of him :-"I called at Mr. Secretary's to
see what the d-l ailed him on Sunday: I made
him a very proper speech-told him I observed he
was much out of temper; that I expected every great
minister who honoured me with his acquaitance,
if he heard or saw anything to my disadvantage,
would let me know it in plain words, and not put
me in pain to guess by the change or coldness of
his countenance or behaviour." As early as March
1710 he appears to have laid down the true policy of
the ministry, and to have pondered the best mea-
**This
sures for carrying that policy into effect.
kingdom is certainly ruined as much as was ever
any bankrupt merchant.
merchant. We must have a peace,
whether it be a bad or a good one, though nobody
dares talk of it. The nearer I look upon things,
the worse I like them. I believe the confederacy
will soon break to pieces, and our factions at home
increase.
They have cautioned the queen
•
•
so much against being governed that she observes it
too much. I could talk till to-morrow upon these
things, but they make me melancholy. I could not
but observe lately, after much conversation with Mr
Harley, though he is the most fearless man alive
and the least apt to despond, he confessed to me
that uttering his mind to me gave him ease." Swift's
precautions, however, had disarmed their opponents
of half their power by conciliating the members of
the October Club,ª who wished to push matters to
an extreme; he had foiled all his opponents by the
mingled vigour, wit, and irony of his "Examiners;'
and having again renewed the campaign, he was al-
ready preparing notes for his masterly treatises upon
"The Conduct of the Allies.” "Lord Rivers," he
says, "talking to me the other day, cursed the paper
called the Examiner' for speaking civilly of the duke
of Marlborough. This I happened to talk of to the
secretary, who blamed the warmth of that lord and
They consisted of about two hundred members of parlia.
met, a id met at the Bell tavern in King-street, Westminster
A
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxxiii
some others, and swore if their advice was followed
they would be blown up in twenty-four hours and
I have reason to think they will endeavour to pre-
vail on the queen to put her affairs more in the
hands of a ministry than she does at present; and
there are two men thought on, one of whom you
have often met the name of in my letters." The
chief danger, however, arose from want of concert
and confidence in the leaders themselves. Harley
Harley
was reserved and mysterious, became dilatory from
having too great a weight of business upon his hands,
and feared to trust his colleagues; while St. John,
equally hot and active, was jealous, moody, and in-
dignant. The high Tories of oue faction were sus-
pected of being favourable to the succession of the
chevalier de St. George, headed by Bolingbroke,
Ormond, and perhaps Rivers; and Harley, on the
other hand, having, like Swift, been brought up
with the Whigs, was disposed to moderate measures
and in favour of the house of Hanover.
Whigs whisper," he writes (Aug. 23rd, 1711), "that
our ministry differ among themselves, and they be-
gin to talk of the secretary. They have some
reason for their whispers, though I thought it was
a greater secret. I do not much like the aspect of
things. I always apprehended that any falling out
would ruin them, and so I have told them several
umes." Though St. John was a man of great abili-
ties, active, prompt, and vigorous, his love of pleasure,
his jealousy, and ambition, were as serious obsta-
cles to business as the too great caution and delay of
his colleague.
"The
"The deuce is in the secretary,"
exclaimed Swift, quite out of humour (Oct. 31,
1711); “when I went to him this morning he had
people with him, but says we are to dine with
Prior to-day, and then will do all our business in
the afternoon. At two Prior sends word he is
otherwise engaged; then the secretary and I go and
dine with brigadier Britton; sit till eight, grow
merry, no business done; we part, and appoint no
time to meet again. This is the fault of all the
present ministers-teazing me to death for my assist-
ance, laying the whole weight of their affairs upon
it, and slipping opportunities."
Owing to these and other causes, notwithstanding
Swift's efforts, the affairs of the Tories wore an un-
promising aspect. The Whigs were on the alert,
and resolved to omit no opportunity to compass the
ruin of their adversaries. The affair of the peace
was one of extreme difficulty; popular opinion was
in favour of the war, and it called for equal skill
and daring to meet the opposition, with the lustre of
Marlborough's victories fresh upon them, upon such
ground, with any rational hopes of success. Swift
saw that before venturing to hint a peace it would
be necessary to point out such extravagant expense
and imposition in conducting the war as would
lead indirectly to disgust the nation with the
conduct of the general and of the ministers who
managed it. It would be necessary to conciliate
different parties, and to obtain the full support of
the country interest, so as to carry a decided ma-
jority in the house of commons. For these reasons
Swift exerted his utmost care and judgment in draw-
ing up his celebrated tracts entitled The Conduct
of the Allies," which produced so sudden and de-
cided a change in public opinion regarding the war
that the ministry were almost immediately enabled
to carry their ulterior measures into effect.
Within
less than a month 17,000 copies are stated to have
been sold; seven editions of the treatise having been
printed in England and three in Ireland. The
Tory members in both houses who spoke drew all
their arguments from it, and the resolutions which
passed were little more than quotations from it; in
consequence of which the ministry gained a majority
of 150, while the public feeling from without was still
more loudly expressed. The importance, indeed,
of Swift's exertions at this tune seems to have made
a deep impression upon the ministry, who had now
time to breathe, to mature their plans, and, if dili-
gent, wise, and cautious, as it was his great object to
render them, to consolidate the power they had ac-
quired. He set them the best example by perform-
ing everything he undertook with scrupulous exact-
ness, care, and business-like promptitude, in theory
or action; letting no opportunity escape him of
urging the ministers to keep pace with him in carry-
He told them
ing out the details of their plaus.
boldly to their faces of their faults, sometimes in a
serious, at others in a jocose mood, and above all
things entreated them to preserve a good under-
standing. There are many little anecdotes which
show with how much freedom, as well as wit and
good humour, his intercourse with the great men of
the day was carried on. Swift had received a pre-
sent of a curious snuff-box from colonel Hill, beau-
tifully painted with a variety of figures, which he
showed to lord Oxford, who, after having examined
the workmanship, turned up the bottom of the box,
where he spied a figure resembling a goose studded
on the outside of the box; upon which, turning to
Swift, he said, Jonathan, I think the colonel has
• Some of these occur in the diary of hishop Kennet, whose
strong Whig principles and terror of the pope and the pretender
made him look upon Swift as one of Satan's imps, busied in
restoring them to their ancient power aud splendour. It is a
most amusing sketch o the dean, the more graphic as coming
"Dr. Swiß came into the coffee-
from the hand of an euemy.
house and had a low from everybody but me. When I came
to the antec amber to wait before prayers, Pr. Swift was the
principal man of talk and business, and acted as a master of
requests. He was soliciting the earl of Arau to speak to his
brother, the duke of Ormond, to get a chaplains place esta-
blished in the garrison of Hull for Mr. Fiddes, a clergyman in
that neighbourhood, who had lately been in jail, and published
sermons to pay fees. He was promising Mr Thorold to un-
dertake with my lord-treasurer that. ccording to his petition,
he should obtain a salary of two hundied a-year as minister of
the English church at Rotterdam. He stopped F. Gwynne,
esq, going in with the red bag to the queen, and told him
aloud he had something to say to him from my lord treasurer.
He talked with the sou of Dr. Davenant to be sent abroad, and
took out his pocket-book and wrote down several things as
memoranda to do for him. He turned to the fire and took out
his gold watch, and, telling him the time of day, complained
that it was very late. A gentleman said the doctor was too
fast: How can I help that, he replied, the courtiers give
me a watch that won't go right? Then he instructed a young
nobleman that the best poet in England was Mr. Pope (a pa-
pist), who had begun a translation of Homer into English
verse, for which he must have them all subscribe; for,' says
he, the author shall not begin to print till I have a thousand
guineas for him.' Lord-treasurer, alter leaving the queen,
came through the room, beckoning Dr. Swift to follow him
both went off just before prayers. I see and hear a great deal
to confirm a doubt that the pretender's interest is much at the
bottom of some hearts: a whisper that Mr. Nelson had a
prime hand in the late book for hereditary night; and that one
of them was presented to her majesty herself, whom God
serve from the effect of such principles and such intrigues!
4
1
+
pre-
Still more ludicrous is the picture drawn of Swift at this
period by some critic of his political tracts, who describes the
doctor presiding at his levee, with Patrick as his master of
ceremonies, to whom his first instructions were, never to re
sent any service. "Notice was given that all petitions be de-
livered to him on the knee, sitting to receive them like a
Triton in a scene of wreck, where, at one view, according to
Patrick's fancy in disposing of them, you might have seen hali-
shirts and shams, rowlers. decayed nightgowns, snuff swimming
upon gruel, and bottles with candles stuck in them; balads to
be sung in the street, and speeches to be made from the throne:
making rules of his own to distinguish which showed that he
was greater than any of them himself. For it a lord came to
his levee he would say, Prithee, lord, take away that d--d
ch-p-t and sit down. But if it were a commoner only he
would remove the implement himself, swearing that he woulo
send Pat to the devil if the dog did not seem willing to go to
him himseli,”
Z
xxxiv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
made a goose of you."-" It is true, my lord," re-
plied Swift; " but if you will look a little farther
you will see I am driving a snail before me;" which
indeed happened to be the device. That's severe
enough, Jonathan," said my lord, "but I deserved
it." The Tory ministry, in fact, might consider
themselves fortunate at such a juncture to possess a
monitor who would thus faithfully and wittily remind
them of their errors; a coadjutor to supply their
want of tact and concert; an advocate to maintain
their cause with the people, and to hold their power-
ful enemies at bay. His strong natural sagacity,
rendered more penetrating by his close observations
upon human nature, saw dangers at a distance, and
more than compensated for the absence of that local
and technical acquaintance with routine and de-
tails which might have interfered with the keenness
of his intellectual vision. It is singular that although
in many instances when the events took place, he
reminded the ministers of his warnings and pre-
dictions, it seemed to produce very little effect upon
their future movements. They had already had
more than one miraculous escape, when their ruin
soon after the meeting of parliament appeared in-
evitable; and had not so powerful a champion
turned the tide of public opinion. and thrown round
them the shield of his invincible wit and satire, the
Whigs had so prepared their measures as to have
supplanted the new men both in the court and the
parliament. By his dexterous conduct he had
placed the Whigs in a false position, and even ren-
dered them obnoxious by his exposure of their mo-
tives in carrying on the war: he prevented the mi-
nisters coming to an open rupture at the most cri-
tical moment; and by the rapidity with which he
followed up his attacks till the conclusion of a peace,
he allowed the opposition no time to recover breath,
making fresh appeals and exposing them to the people
with all the powers of argument and ridicule of which
he was master. Thus, his friend Prior having been
sent on a secret mission to France, Swift instantly
seized the moment, turning the incident, upon its
accidentally transpiring, to the best account; smooth-
ing the way and preparing the minds of men for the
pacific overtures that were to follow. He wrote a
little tract purporting to give an account of Prior's
journey, full of the most natural and humorous in-
cidents, but concealing under the guise of an actual
journey the allusions and arguments necessary for
his purpose.
He correctly represented how Eng-
land was considered the dupe of her allies, and bore
nearly the whole burden of the war, of which her
allies and her enemies finally reaped the whole ad-
vantage. It met with astonishing success, enabled
the grand question of the peace to be carried smoothly
and satisfactorily on, raised the ministry in public
opinion, and gave the author leisure to look round
and pursue one or two favourite plans wholly un-
connected with politics. He had already succeeded
in the affair of remission of the Irish first-fruits, and
would have obtained still further boons, owing greatly
to the popularity of several of his early tracts relating
to the government and discipline of the church, had
not the jealousy of the Irish prelacy, endeavouring
to deprive the premier of the merit of these conces-
sions, interfered with his purpose. It had long been
his favourite project to form an academy to establish
the English language upon some more solid founda-
tion. With this view he published a proposal for
correcting, improving, and ascertaining the English
tongue, conveyed in a letter to the lord-treasurer.
But the plan which he wished to institute for
the success of his purpose has been considered ex-
ceedingly defective: Swift's knowledge of the an-
cient languages is supposed to have been limited,
and it is justly remarked by Mr. Mitford that the
purity of a language will never be preserved by the
laws of an academy; writers themselves participate
in the causes of its change, and have neither the
power to effect its renewal nor to delay its decline.
Other and more pressing objects likewise soon en-
gaged Swift's own attention and that of the mi-
nistry; and though we are told that the plan met
with Harley's concurrence, it fell to the ground.
During this period of active exertion (1710–1712),
in which Swift's unrivalled talents, at once brilliant
and profound. had placed him in the first rank
of political writers, the ministers had not failed to
express their sense of the obligations he had con-
ferred by recommending him for promotion; but
the intrigues of the duchess of Somerset and the
interference of the archbishop of York prevailed
with her majesty, in addition to certain prejudices
she had imbibed against the doctor, to bestow the
vacancies elsewhere. Swift now re-entered the ǹeld
of controversy with unsubdued spirit and resolution;
and the " Public Spirit of the Whigs," a splendid
and masterly piece of satire, made its appearance.
"We have no quiet," he observes (Oct. 26, 1711),
"with the Whigs; they are so violent against a
but I will cool them with a vengeance very
peace; but
soon. I have written a paper which the ministers
reckon will do abundance of good, and open the
eyes of the nation, who are half bewitched against a
peace. Few of this generation can remember any-
thing but war and taxes, and they think it is as it
should be; whereas it is certain we are the most
undone people in Europe, as I am afraid I shall
make appear beyond all contradiction." So great
was the alarm and indignation of the opposition on
the publication of this last tract, that a portion of
them, the Scotch lords, incensed at some national
reflections, went in a body to complain of the author
to the queen. A proclamation was accordingly is-
sued, with a reward of 3007. for his discovery; but
by the exertions of lord Oxford further proceedings
were dropped.
Upon the meeting of parliament, 7th December,
1711, Swift's apprehensions of the queen's weakness
and the counter-influence of the Whigs at court
proved only too well founded. As forming the most
interesting portion of his political life, it will be de-
sirable to give the events as they occurred in his own
words. "The earl of Nottingham began and spoke
against a peace, desiring that in their address they
might put in a clause to advise the queen not to
make a peace without Spain, which was debated
and carried by the Whigs, by about six voices, in a
This result as-
committee of the whole house."
tounded the boldest partisans of the ministry, with
the exception of Swift, who had forewarned them
what would happen if the heads failed to act in
concert and exert their utmost influence with the
court. The queen's conduct tended to increase the
alarm. "When the queen was going from the house
of lords, where she sat to hear the debate, the duke
of Shrewsbury, lord-chamberlain, asked her majesty
whether he or the great chamberlain, Lindsey, ought
to lead her out? She answered short, Neither
of you,' and gave her hand to the duke of Somerset,
who was louder than any in the house against a
peace."
In consequence of this supposed change of sen-
timents in her majesty the clause was carried the
next day in the house of lords almost two to one.
"The partisans of the old ministry" ("History of
the Peace of Utrecht"), he says, “triumphed loudly
and without any reserve, as if the game were their
JONATHAN SWIFT.
XXXV
་་་་
own.
The earl of Wharton was observed in the
house to smile and to put his hands to his neck
when any of the ministry were speaking, by which
he would have it understood that some heads were
in danger. Parker, the chief-justice, began already
with great zeal and officiousness to prosecute authors
and printers of weekly and other papers written in
defence of the administration; in short, joy and
vengeance sat visible in every countenance of that
party."
It would appear at this juncture that the fall of the
ministry was inevitable, but having already been in-
debted to the exertions of Swift for their preserva-
tion they again looked to him for aid, which, if they
had made a good use of his advice and the popular
influence of his writings, they would not then have
stood in need of. The ascendancy he had obtained
and that extensive patronage which gave him the
power, as he said, of serving every one but himself,
were now at their height, and the stirring scenes
that followed will be best conveyed in his own
words, as strongly characterising the motives and
objects of the contending parties.
"On the other side, all well-wishers to the church,
the queen, or the peace, were equally dejected; and
the treasurer stood the foremost mark both of his
enemies' fury and the censure of his friends. Among
the latter, some imputed this fatal miscarriage to his
procrastinating nature; others to his immeasurable
public thrift. Both parties agreed that a first mi-
nister, with very moderate skill in affairs, might
easily have governed the events; and some began to
doubt whether the great fame of his abilities, acquired
in other stations, were what he justly deserved."
It must have been painful for Swift to make these
severe but just remarks, attached as he was to the
interests of the lord-treasurer, and sensible how
closely his own prospects were blended with his suc-
cess. The ensuing interview between them is one
of the most striking of the kind upon record; it
brings admirably both their characters into display;
and it is curious to observe that Swift takes him to
task rather like a monitor annoyed at the failure of
his pupil than a friend prepared to sympathise with
him ou his misfortune. "Mr. Masham begged us
to stay because lord-treasurer would call, and we
were resolved to fall on him about his negligence m
securing a majority. He came, and appeared in good
humour, as usual, but I thought his countenance was
much cast down. I rallied him, and desired him to
give me his staff, which he did; I told him if he
would secure it me a week I would set all right.
He asked how? I said I would immediately turn
lord Marlborough, his two daughters, the duke and
duchess of Somerset, and lord Cholmondeley out
of all their employments; and I believe he had not
a friend but was of my opinion. Arbuthnot asked
how he came not to secure a majority? He could
answer nothing but that he could not help it if
people would lie and forswear: a poor answer for a
great minister. There fell from him a scripture expres-
sion, That the hearts of kings are unsearchable.'
I told him it was what I feared, and was from him
the worst news be could tell me.' He goes on to
say Journal, Dec. 8th, 1711), This is all your
d-d d-l of Somerset's doing. I warned the minis-
ters of it nine months ago, and a hundred times
since. The secretary always dreaded it. I told lord-
treasurer I should have the advantage of him, for he
would lose his head, and I should only be hanged,
and so carry my body entire to the grave.”
เ
Swift, who had already shown his statesmanlike
power and judgment in drawing up the celebrated
Representation of the House of Commons on the
}
C
It
State of the Nation," and the well-timed address of
thanks to the queen, now set his whole mind and
thoughts upon retrieving as quickly as possible the
ground the ministry had lost. Instead of being
daunted at the perilous aspect of affairs he vigorousis
applied himself to bring fresh accessions of popular
opinion, while the premier, with equal firmness, took
measures to strengthen his influence with the queen.
Alluding to his promptitude and courage, Swift. a-
if eager to do justice to the great qualities display-d
He never
by Oxford at this eventful juncture, says,
wanted a reserve upon any emergency which would
appear desperate to others;" and the correctness of
this opinion was speedily shown by his not only be-
coming reinstated in the queen's favour, but acquiring
influence sufficient to dismiss his most formidable
adversaries. While the fate of the ministry still
trembled in the balance Swift kept his word with
the lord-treasurer of answering for the stability of
his ministry if he would ensure him his staff of office
for a week, by the admirable tact and vigour with
which he pushed the Whigs and excited the popular
mind in favour of the peace and other essentials to
the consolidation of the Oxford administration.
is quite evident that Swift was greatly alarmed at
this crisis, even more moved than the premier him-
self, at the sudden eclipse of his rising power and
prospects; that he gives the ministers full praise for
tact and resolution, and by no means arrogates for
himself higher merit and induence in producing the
increased stability of the Tory government than his
exertions seem to have sanctioned. Yet many of his
biographers, and in particular a noble author who
prepared the way for Johnson and his disciples,
question the reality of Swift's influence with the
ministry, though it is more difficult to challenge his
reputation and popular fame both with the English
and the Irish public. He is supposed by them to have
been amused only by the ministry with the shadow,
not the substance, of a great and influential name;
that he assumed the airs of a patron instead of acting
the part of a friend; affected to perform greater ser-
vices than he ever did or could was suspected and
shunned by Addison, and laughed at by Steele and
other leading Whigs; nay, that Harley and St. John
themselves never permitted him to see deeper than
the surface. Nothing can be more amusing than to
observe these futile suggestions of surviving envy
and malice in those destitute of honesty and mag-
nanimity sufficient to admit their own immeasurable
inferiority, and the possibility of the bare existence
of an intellectual vigour, acumen, and abundant wit,
so far transcending what are met with in the mass of
mankind. "He was elated with the appearance of
enjoying ministerial confidence. He enjoyed the
shadow-the substance was detained from him. He
was employed, not trusted; and at the same time that
he imagined himself a subtile diver, who dexterously
shot down into the profoundest regions of politics,
he was suffered only to sound the shallows nearest the
shore, and was scarce admitted to descend below the
froth at the top.”—(Orrery's “Remarks on the Life of
Swift.") In reply to this strange and confused in-
vective, in which the falseness of the incongruous
images, and metaphors stumbling upon metaphors, is
not an unsuitable vehicle for the accusations they con-
tain, it may be remarked that the men who received
the benefit of Swift's exertions were fully as able to
form an estimate of them as his lordship, and that, if
they entertained designs unknown to their adviser
respecting the succession, or any other,―a very im-
probable supposition,-it was only the more honour-
able to the character of the latter, showing their
respect and deference for the superior ability and
xxxvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
integrity of him whom they dared not to intrust with
their dangerous doctrines. His labours in their
cause are the best refutation of imputed want of in-
fluence and knowledge; while the extreme popu-
larity of his works, his appeasing the continual dis-
cord and mutiny in the Tory camp, the painful
confidence he complains of in having to reconcile
the leaders themselves, his rendering innocuous the
powerful October Club, his successful effort of bring-
ing over the nation to listen to peace and to behold
with apathy the dismissal of Marlborough himself
from all his commands, and the fall of Somerset and
the old favourites of the queen,-results following the
skilful and masterly expositions in Swift's tracts on
the war,-present an array of facts which no theories
far more ingenious than lord Orrery's have yet been
able to shake.
The lofty eminence to which Swift's powerful
talents had now raised him seems to have excited
the jealousy or ill-feeling of some of his early friends
and ablest contemporaries. Addison, Steele, Hen-
ley, Philips, Rowe, and others of less account be-
longing to the Whig party, felt themselves completely
thrown into the shade by one man standing alone
and conspicuous, the great champion of his party;
a writer too who had risen by the sheer force of wit
and talent, independent and unconnected with lite-
rary or political partisanship, and by whom those
who had not prudently retired from the conflict had
been grievously overthrown. It is singular that,
situated as they were, the great literary leaders of
their respective parties, and both men eminently en-
dowed with surpassing qualities of mind though of a
different texture, Swift and Addison, under the
etrong circumstances which impelled them, never
came into political collision, or allowed the madness.
of party to produce more than a temporary coldness,
which ended in even a warmer friendship. In the
history of political contests this is a gratifying fact,
honourable alike to both parties, but more particu-
larly so to Addison, who, instigated by the most
amiable and praiseworthy motives not less than from
policy, sacrificed to his regard and reverence for
genius and friendship the honours to be reaped
from political controversy-most probably the incrti-
fication of defeat. For Swift was no respecter of
persons, whether of friend or foe, when the stern
dictates of supposed duty influenced his conduct;
and there cannot be a doubt that, had Addison so far
mistaken his character as to have crossed his path,
he must have shared the same fate as Swift's more
humble adversaries. Policy and good feeling alike
dictated the course he pursued; and we trace the
same respect and deference as to a superior genius,
so wise, and at the same time amiable, in his whole
correspondence with Swift, even when the latter
seems to place to Addison's account the puerile ob-
stinacy, folly, and ingratitude of Steele's conduct.
He observed the same uniform delicacy and respect
to the close of his career, in regard to avoiding every
occasion likely to produce unpleasant feelings or
give offence; while Swift on his side conducted
himself with equal disinterestedness and magna-
aimity under Steele's worst provocations,-interced-
ing for Addison's friends with the ministry, though
in open enmity with himself, and engaging that
Addison's own interest should be held inviolate. If
any confirmation of facts like these, so honourable to
both, and affording so complete a refutation of the
calumnies heaped upon Swift, were wanting, it is to
be found in Addison's own correspondence under his
own hand. In a letter written a little previous to
this period, which shows the delight he took in
Swift's society, and does justice to those social qua-
1
lities and high characteristics which made him so
much courted by the ingenious and well-informed
of all ranks-not excepting the highest-we trace in
every line the regard in which this great man was
held by his amiable contemporary." I have run so
much in debt with you that I do not know how to
excuse myself, and therefore shall throw myself
wholly upon your good nature; and promise, if you
will pardon what is past, to be more punctual with
you for the future. I hope to have the happiness of
waiting on you very suddenly at Dublin, and do not
at all regret the leaving of England, while I am
going to a place where I shall have the satisfaction
and honour of Dr. Swift's conversation. I shall not
trouble you with any occurrences here, because I
hope to have the pleasure of talking over all affairs
with you very suddenly. I hope to be at Holyhead
by the 30th inst. Lady Wharton stays in England.
suppose you know that I obeyed all the bishop of
Clogher's commands in relation to Mr. Smith; for I
desired Mr. Dawson to acquaint you with it. I must
beg my most humble duty to the bishop of Clogher.
I heartily long to eat a dish of bacon and beans in
the best company in the world. Mr. Steele and I
often drink your health. I am forced to give myself
the airs of a punctual correspondence with you in
discourse with your friends at St. James's coffee-
house, who are always asking me questions about
you when they have aimed to pay their court to me,
who love and esteem you if possible as much as you
deserve.
"Yours entirely,
"J. ADDISON."
I
St James's Place, April, 1710.
There was no one in whose society Swift took
more unalloyed pleasure, or of whom he entertained
a higher opinion for the sterling qualities of heart
and mind, even after the divisions of party gave rise
to some degree of restraint and coldness. The letter
he received previous to his departure for England,
soon after the tidings of his mother's death,ª displaye
on the part of Addison a degree of regard and affec-
tion of which, with the exception of Tickell, he gave
no other example in the course of either his literary
or political connexions.
[From Mr. Addison to Dr. Swift].
"DEAR SIR,—I am just now come from Finglass,
where I have been drinking your health and talking
of you with one who loves and admires you better
than any man in the world, except your humble ser-
vant. We both agree in a request that you will set
out for Dublin as soon as possible. To tell you
truly, I find the place disagreeable, and cannot
imagine why it should appear so now more than it
did last year. You know I look upon everything
that is like a compliment as a breach of friendship;
and therefore shall only tell you that I long to see
you, without assuring you that I love your company
and value your conversation more than any man's,
or that I am with the most inviolable sincerity, dear
sir, your most faithful, most humble, and most obe-
dient servant,
"J. ADDISON.”
It would appear from both these letters, as well as
from the general tenor of his friend's correspondence,
that Swift's temper and disposition even during his
prouder days were by no means of the austere or un-
amiable kind so generally attributed to him, but that
he was distinguished for his engaging manners, his
social genius, and good nature, as well as kindness
•
I have now lost," says Swift," my barrier between me and
death: God grant that I may live to be as well prepared to it
as I confidently believe her to have heen. It the way to
heaven be through piety, truth, justice, and charity, she is
there." (Copied from Swift's memorandum-book for 1710.)
JONATHAN SWIFT.
KIXVÏÎ
of heart and almost universal charity. From that
strange compound of wit and folly, Henley, who
subsequently smarted under his satire, we gather
testimonies to his good and gentle qualities in the
following expressive language:-"I should not have
presumed to imagine that you would deign to cast
an eye on anything proceeding from so mean a
hand as mine, had I not been encouraged by that
character of candour and sweetness of temper for
which you are so justly celebrated by all good men,
as the deliciæ humani generis; and I make no ques-
tion but, like your predecessor (an emperor again),
you reckon every day as lost in which you have not
an opportunity of doing some act of beneficence.".
(About 1709 or 1710.)
Other testimonials from the great Whig writers of
the day, expressing their veneration for Swift's sur-
passing genius, and their regard for his virtues and
merits as a man, might be adduced without number,
did not matters more important than the envy and
malignity of inferior minds claim our attention.
The gradual coolness which supervened between him
and the Whigs appears upon a dispassionate view of
the correspondence between them to have been
chiefly owing to the jealousy and even ingratitude
of the latter, who, after Swift had engaged the mi-
nistry to retain them in their places, turned round
upon the first opportunity against their benefactor,
wholly neglected and abandoned him upon a change
of fortune, and have been handed down in his own
meinoranda as examples of the truth of Rochefou-
cault's maxim, that "to make ingrates you have
only to confer obligations." We learn from numer-
ous passages in the Journal that the coolness and
estrangement of which Swift complains soon
tended in some degree to Addison,-commenced
wholly upon the side of the latter, and must have
been produced by that consciousness of inferiority
8 clearly shown by his cautious withdrawal from
the controversy, and his abandonment of an office
for which he was so little qualified. If we consider
also that he stood at the head-at the literary head
at least of the opposition, that from a chief mover
in the stirring scene he became an unwilling "Spec-
tator," directing his attention wholly to literary
rifles, the tittle-tattle adapted for the meridian of
the petty coteries of the hour, which only once
elicited the good-humoured raillery of Swift,—it was
natural that a man in Addison's position should feel
a little annoyed and thrown off his balance. Of this
we could adduce many curious instances; while
Swift, on the other hand, tried every art consistent.
with what he conceived to be his public duty to
protect and recommend the discomfited literary ad-
herents of the Whigs. Congreve, Rowe, Philips,
Congreve, Rowe, Philips,
Steele, and Addison himself, were more than once.
indebted to his generous intercession; and he even
threw his ample shield round those most exposed to
the vengeance and antipathy of the ministry. With
equal violation of principle and decorum, Steele,
while he retained office under them, secretly attacked
the Oxford administra.ion with the utmost virulence. |
Under the stupid allegory of a change of managers
at a theatre, he or Henley gave the character of
Harley as that of a low intriguer who had wormed
himself into the chief management to the detriment
of the good old actors, and opened the way to fo-
reign pretenders. He would have been deservedly
cashiered for this absurd and impertinent attack
upon those whose interests he was bound to defend;
and he would have lost both his valuable offices of
gazetteer and commissioner of stamp-duties, had not
Swift, as he expressly states, risked his own reputa-
tion with the miristry to secure him the possession
of the latter.a This disinterested act however,
with the christian temper and self-command which,
added to Steele's violent conduct, placed it out
of Swift's power, as he justly states, either to re-
taliate upon him or to speak more in his favour,
instead of conciliating seemed only to redouble
Steele's ire, and from that time he threw off all de-
cency and restraint in his language towards his former
friend and his benefactor. Though he must have
been aware that Swift had given up the direction of
the "Examiner" at the forty-fifth number of the work,
in the "Guardian" (No. 53) he attacks Swift in
a tone of anger and affected contempt, pretending to
class him with the notorious Mrs. Manley and other
assistants of the "Examiner," scarcely scrupling to
charge him with infidelity-which he knew must be
the most galling of all imputations to a man who so
far regulated his conduct by his religious convictions.
that his benevolence and charity were the result not
of mere good nature, but of principle and obedience
to the divine laws. Swift felt the insult too deeply
to enter into a vulgar controversy with "one who
had put it out of his power to injure him by the ob-
ligations he had received;" but he fully vindicated
himself in a letter to Addison, asserting his ignorance
of any charges of the kind, even of the person of the
editor of the "Examiner;'
"Examiner ;" but which had only the
effect of producing from Steele a still more angry
and petulant reply. During the whole of this idle
and unseemly contest on Steele's part, in which he
seems to have been countenanced by Addison, the
superiority of temper as well as of argument must
strike every impartial reader as leaning to Swift's
side; while jealousy and disappointed ambition are
but too conspicuously displayed on the other.
The "Letter upon the English Language" was not the
only literary publication which Swift found leisure to
publish during the stirring period that ensued. As each
of his productions was dictated by occasion, or directed
to some political end or purpose-to the agreeable or
the useful, in compliance with the precept of Horace-
as well as to retaliate upon some unfortunate lord or
great man who had incurred his displeasure, he threw
off ballads, tracts, poems, and contributions to various
papers, with an ease and rapidity which must have
astonished the public had they appeared with his own
name. But his known contempt for mere literary
fame, and disregard of his own productions beyond
the precise object they were intended to accomplish,
when he "whistled them down the wind to prey at
fortune," was the cause of annoyance and vexation to
him during his lifetime, and of more serious incon-
venience and mischief after his decease. Needy or
rapacious men, who hang upon the skirts of genius
like vultures upon the march of some noble army,
took advantage of his remissness, and published for
their own advantage-often with and sometimes with-
out the author's consent-productions which, either
separately or embodied in a proper form, would have
made a very handsome addition to Swift's income.
He was notwithstanding economical and desirous of
increasing his resources; and we can only account for
his apparent indifference on this head by his pride,
his noble desire of standing on high and independent
ground, without laying himself open to the suspicion
of being actuated by the sordid love of gain in his
professed principles, his political views, or his mere
literary efforts. Actuated by such motives, instead
of protecting he took pride in bestowing his copy-
right either on his friends or those printers or book-
sellers for whom he had any regard. He presented
Steele with several able papers for the "Tatler," as-
a See the correspondence between Swift and Steele, and Swift
and Addison.
Xxxviii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
signed over to his friend Pope his share in a new
edition of the "Miscellanies," and made all his writings
In fact subservient to the interest or objects of others;
while he felt so little of the usual vanity of authors
that, except in one instance,a he never seemed am-
bitious of claiming for himself even the just fame to
which he was entitled. It was in this way that the
publication of his "Miscellanies" first took place in the
year 1711, by John Morphew, without Swift's name
and most probably without his knowledge. At the
same time the publisher brought them out respectably,
and had the grace in a preface to apologise for the
iberty he had taken with the author in giving these
pieces to the world without his consent. From his
observations to Stella it seems that he had himself
contemplated the publication subsequently brought
out by Pope-was annoyed at this spurious edition-
and had some doubt that Tooke, with whom he was
in communication, had some share in the under-
taking in that imperfect form.
The "History of the Peace of Utrecht," executed
about this period with the view of strengthening the
hands of the ministry, can hardly be regarded as a
mere literary composition. Here was the strong
foundation upon which the Oxford ministry calculated
to raise the edifice of a more permanent power than
their first weak hold upon the court and nation had
promised. Without the talents of Swift to prepare
as well as to defend pacific measures, it was impossi-
ble to mature their plans; for though Swift had suc-
ceeded in reconciling the popular mind to a peace,
it was a different task to make its conditions palatable
with a powerful opposition eager to excite commo-
tion and to arraign the motives and rebut the argu-
ments of the writer. This work, subsequently merged
in the "Four Last Years of Queen Anne's Reign,"
was composed with great rapidity, every facility in
regard to materials and the details having been sup-
plied by his friends the ministers. At the moment
it was completed fresh divisions broke out in the ad-
ministration; Oxford and Bolingbroke viewed mattere
in so different a light that they refused to concur in
some particular statements; and afraid of still fur-
ther widening the breach, the author was induced to
postpone its publication. He observes in one of his
letters (to Miss Vanhomrigh, July 8, 1713), “ I verily
think if the thing you know of had been published
just upon the peace, the ministry might have avoided
what has since happened." It is evident indeed from
many circumstances that Swift foresaw the downfall
of the ministry long before the actors who were deeply
engaged in the state drama, like the spectator calmly
contemplating the game of which he sees more than
the players. It was this knowledge that determined
him to lose no time in employing such influence as
he possessed for the welfare and happiness of others,
if he could not succeed, as now seemed probable, in
promoting his own interest with the ministry. The
benefits he conferred upon men of worth and talent
at this period, and the sums he raised to relieve the
unfortunate and necessitous, raised him in the esteem
of men of all parties, whom in a little time he suc-
ceeded in bringing together and meeting in a club
under the affectionate appellations of relations and
brothers, upon the avowed principle of affording
relief to the worthy and distressed. Such facts of
themselves supply sufficient proof that he was not
elated with success and the reputation he had ac-
quired, that he was actuated by the same motives,
by the same calm, benevolent, and compassionate
disposition, which made him fly to the relief of the
aff'cted or the oppressed, regardless of his own en-
When he was provoked by some lacerating reflection upon
his youth and inexperience to own himself the author of
"Athens and Rome," &).
gagements, risks, or sufferings. The Whig Congreve
was received by lord Oxford with such marked atten-
tion at Swift's particular request, as excited his asto-
nishment and gratitude. "And thus," observes his
benefactor with a feeling of unalloyed pleasure, "I
have made a worthy man easy, and that's a good day's
work." Instances of the kind are profusely scattered
throughout his Journal, and in one place he specifies
his meeting with the philanthropical society alluded
to:-"I dined to-day with our society, the greatest
dinner I have ever seen: it was at Jack Hill's, the go-
vernor of Dunkirk. I gave an account of sixty
guineas I had collected, and am to give them away
to two authors to-morrow; and lord-treasurer has
promised me 1007. to reward some others." On the
13th again he adds, "I was to see a poor poet, one
Mr. Diaper, in a nasty garret, very sick. I gave him
twenty guineas from lord Bolingbroke, and disposed
the other sixty to two other authors. I was naming
some time ago to a certain person another cer-
tain person that was very deserving and poor and
sickly; and the other, that first certain person, gave
me 1007. to give the other. The person who is to
have it never saw the giver, nor expects one farthing,
nor has the least knowledge or imagination of it; so
I believe it will be a very agreeable surprise, for I
think it a handsome present enough.... I paid the
hundred this evening, and it was a great surprise to
the receiver.''
be-
The interview, likewise, which Swift brought
about between Parnell and the premier, and subse-
quently between Addison and lord Bolingbroke,
when they dined together at the house of the latter,
shows Swift's uniform desire to promote amity
tween excellent and distinguished individuals, of
whatever party. He usually contrived also that the
ministers should make the first advances, so that, he
observes, the lord-treasurer should desire to become
acquainted with Parnell, not Parnell with the minis-
ter. In the instance of Pope, now fast emerging into
popular fame, he exerted himself with all the affec-
tionate energy of a parent; took his fortunes under
his special care and protection, and by his active
zeal and success opened the way for that lasting
mutual respect and friendship which ended only
with their lives. It was the same with regard to
Gay and Arbuthnot, the last of whom, though he
stood in no need of patrons, was indebted for the
most delightful hours he spent, and for the relief
afforded to the tedium of a fatal disease, to the kind
and social qualities of his friend Swift. It is well
known that the celebrated Berkeley, afterwards.
bishop of Cloyne, dated his rise in the world to the
generous and disinterested support of Swift; he re-
commended Rowe, and supported Prior, whose
weakness and imprudence had reduced him from
comparative affluence to a state of wretchedness and
destitution. When his last exertions in favour of
Steele were met by him and his friend Addison
with jealousy, ingratitude, and even derision,
he would not permit any alteration in the con-
duct of the latter to produce serious estrangement,
and deeply regretted the coldness he could not but
perceive. “Mr. Addison and I are different as black
and white, and I believe our friendship will go off
by this d-d business of party. He cannot bear
seeing me fall in so with the ministry, but I love him.
still as much as ever, though we seldom meet."
Soon afterwards he alludes to Addison as the cause
of Steele's refusing to keep his appointment and
expressing his obligations to his benefactor and to
the ministry. He treated his friend's wayward and
jealous humour with singular forbearance through-
out, though he reflected upon and even ridiculed it
in the strictness of private confidence, when address-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xxxix
ing his friends in Ireland: "I called," he says, "at
the coffeehouse, where I had not been in a week,
and talked coldly awhile with Mr. Addison; all our
friendship and dearness are off; we are civil ac-
quaintance; talk words of course, of when we shall
meet, and that's all. Is it not odd? But I think he
has used me ill; and I have used him too well, at
least his friend Steele." This temporary distance
and coldness, however, went no further; nor did it
interfere with Swift's unvarying kindness towards
his Whig friends and their acquaintance; he rescued
Bernage and Beaumont from ruin, and placed Bar-
ber, the printer, in the highway to fortune; was
eminently useful to Dr. Freind, and provided for
Parnell and Harrison: "I took Parnell this morn-
ing" (Jan. 25, 1712-13), " and we walked to see
poor Harrison.
I had the hundred pounds in my
pocket. I told Parnell I was afraid to knock at the
door, my mind misgave me. I did knock, and his
man in tears told me his master was dead an hour
before. Think what grief this is to me! I could
not dine with lord-treasurer nor anywhere else;
but got a bit of meat towards the evening. No loss
ever grieved me so much; poor creature! Pray God
Almighty bless you! Adieu! 1 send this away to-
night, and I am sorry it must go while I am in so
much grief."
It was now felt that the services which Swift had
rendered the ministry had fully entitled him to some
honourable provision. Lord Bolingbroke is said to
have exerted his influence to the utmost, though
Swift appears to have had no great confidence in
him;
and his friend the lord-treasurer certainly
omitted no opportunity of attempting to induce the
queen to give him preferment in England. But the
influence of the duchess of Somerset, who had car-
ried to the queen Swift's poem called the "Windsor
Prophecy," created formidable difficulties; and it
soon appeared that the first minister had not that
necessary command and confidence which it is so
indispensable at court for a leader of the adminis-
tration to possess. Upon an impartial examination
of all the circuinstances it would be unjust to con-
clude that the ministry were insincere, as it has been
generally asserted, and, while taxing his genius and
exertions to the utmost, never intended to advance
him. There is reason to suppose, on the other
hand, that they obtained for him the best provision
they were enabled; and though Swift affected to be
wholly regardless of the results, it is not difficult to
perceive, especially when the ministry began to
totter, that he was not so much divested of anxiety
as he wished the world to believe. We must not,
however, anticipate.
The list of tracts composed by Swift in support
of lord Oxford (as may be seen in the text) is in it-
self a formidable oue, and shows with how much
zeal and resolution as well as wit he devoted himself
to what appeared a lost cause, and brought it
triumphant at last through all perils and disasters.
In the year 1712 he published his Reflections on
the Barrier Treaty," proving how little the interests
of England had been consulted in that negotiation,
and how much had been unduly conceded to the
Dutch.
It was shortly followed by his "Remarks
on the Bishop of Sarum's Introduction to the Third
Volume of the History of the Reformation."
may form some idea of the effect which these writings
must have produced at a period of so much excite-
ment, when we consider their popularity at the pre-
sent day, though we feel so little interested in the
events which gave rise to them. Their intrinsic wit
and merit redeem them from the general fate of
litical disquisitions; they appear to be written for
We
po-
"all time," not to serve the mere passing purpose
of the hour; such are the powerful truths, such the
immensity of genius which they display. "He
seems to have had the same advantage over his an-
tagonists," says Sheridan, "as Homer has given to
Achilles, by clothing him in celestial armour, and
furnishing him with weapons of celestial temper.”
Yet,
The first step adopted by lord Oxford to regain
the queen's confidence and carry out the measures
necessary to the existence of the Tory ministry was
to restore the majority in the house of lords, and
this could only be effected by engaging her majesty
to create twelve new peers. This is an expedient to
be resorted to only in cases of extreme peril or ne-
cessity; and the peculiar juncture in the ministerial
affairs certainly required it. Swift, when recurring
to this point some time afterwards, observes,
after all, it is a strange unhappy necessity of making
so many peers together; but the queen has drawn it
upon herself by her trimming and moderation." It
naturally excited the loud clamour of the adverse
party, who attempted to excite the people to violence
by every means in their power, appealing to their
worst passions, and with that singular ingenuity for
which a discomfited party, long in the enjoyment of
place, is always celebrated, attempting to convince
the public that continual war, debt, and taxes are
the natural inheritance of every free and great people.
"The adverse party," says Swift (in his "History
of the Peace")," being thus driven down by open
force, had nothing left but to complain (which they
loudly did) that it was a pernicious example, set for
ill princes to follow,
ill princes to follow, who, by the same rule, might
make at any time a hundred as well as twelve; and
by these means become masters of the house of
lords whenever they pleased, which would be dan-
gerous to our liberties.
But, serious as it was, this measure lost its im-
portance in the nation's eyes, when followed by
another of far greater boldness and decision, to
which few men believed lord Oxford equal, after
the trimming and doubtful policy he had pursued,
with his singular hesitation and delay in openly
breaking with the Whigs. This was no less than the
dismissal of the duke of Marlborough from all his
offices, and the removal of the last of the Whigs from
power, who had yet been retained in the vain ex-
pectation of conciliating the heads of that powerful
body. Prince Eugene had hastened to the succour
of the war party upon hearing that further supplies
were likely to be cut off; all the envoys were equally
busied, in the fear that, like Othello's, their occupa-
tion would be gone, if the sinews of war, supplied by
English gold and bravery, were once denied, and the
nation enlightened as to the real state of the case.
The Whigs, making their idol of prince Eugene,
were enraged at the temerity of the Tories in daring
to dismiss the great Marlborough, in whom the fate
of the war, the debt, and the new moneyed interest-
by which a few needy and grasping contractors, pen-
sioners, commissioners, and their connexions of all
professions, lived in state at the charge of a distressed
and impoverished people-all hung in the balance;
and took every possible advantage of the presence
of prince Eugene, whose fame was the theme of
every public meeting, and who, in his generous de-
sire to secure the continued aid of such good allies,
magnanimously declared he would carry on the war
at his own expense. He was strongly seconded by
the Somersets and the Whig interest at court, which
bore an implacable hatred against Swift, and left no
means untried to prevent his promotion in the
church. The duchess even applied to the archbishop
of York to join her in resisting Oxford's application
xl
LIFE AND WORKS OF
o raise him to the prelacy, and he is said to have
made ase of the remarkable expression, "that her
majesty should be sure that the man whom she was
going to make a bishop was a christian." When
pressed for his reasons, however, all his objections
resolved themselves into the general impression that
Swift was supposed to be the author of the "Tale of
a Tub," than which there exists not a more able and
powerful defence of the church of England; and this
being known to all just discriminators of the tenor
of his arguments and rich stores of wit, this busy
prelate was considered as acting too officiously
from other motives than honest zeal, and his inter-
ference in itself would have proved no serious bar.
The duchess, driven almost to despair, ran into the
queen's presence, and, throwing herself upon her
knees, besought with tears in her eyes that she
would never permit Swift to be made a bishop; ex-
hibiting at the same time those keen and bitter
verses launched against her in the "Windsor Pro
phecy." The queen, naturally good-natured and
compassionate, was stung with resentment at the
freedom thus taken with one of her special favourites;
and having previously imbibed other prejudices
against him, she took a malignant pleasure in pass-
ing by Swift and showing her independence of her
minister by bestowing the vacant sce upon another.
But
It could not long remain a secret that Swift had
incurred the queen's displeasure, and his enemies
renewed their attacks with redoubled vigour. Not
only was the whole weight of the court interest di-
rected against him, but those who had delighted in
his social wit and other estimable qualities, thinking
him a marked man, held aloof from him.
Swift's mighty genius and powers, in themselves a
host, laughed to scorn the efforts to injure him of his
proudest and most malignant enemies. In vain did
the confederacy to cry him down spread from the
court to both houses of parliament. In the former,
the earl of Nottingham-still smarting doubtless un-
der the "Hue and Cry made after Dismal," in which
celebrated ballad, unfortunately now lost to the pub-
lic, Swift had humorously described that noble-
man's secession from the Tories, stealing out of the
ministerial ranks without hint or notice, with his ad-
herents, at the most critical moment-commenced
the attack in a strain of feeble commonplace; and
in the lower house Walpole joined in the tirade, fol-
lowed by a Mr. Aislabie, who had before professed
the greatest friendship for the doctor. All these
outbreaks of envious and injurious malice from men
crossed perhaps in their particular designs, or
thrown into the shade by the bold uncompromising
genius of him who spoke of public men and their
conduct with unflinching truth and spirit, proved as
harmless as the foolish proclamation issued at the
instigation of the Scotch lords, who gave to Swift's
satire a tenfold keener point by solemnly proceed-
ing in a body to complain of the wounds inflicted
upon their national honour. The dealer of these
unceremonious hits, instead of taking alarm at the
attacks followed up in both houses, stood boldly
upon his defence, and must secretly have been not
a little amused at this dreadful display of legislative
vigour, against the humble vicar of a small living in
Ireland, for his manifold plots and conspiracies to
undermine the church and state.ª
From the tenor of Swift's Journal about this
period it would seem he was becoming rather im-
patient at the supposed delay or neglect of his
Swift's real offence consisted in his satire upon the duchess :
"Now angry Somerset her vengeance vows
On Swift's reproaches for her
spouse:
From her red locks her mouth with venom fills,
And thence into the royal car distils," &c.
→
friends the ministers, in leaving him so long without
some preferment becoming his character and reputa-
tion, and which might give greater weight and in-
fluence to his sphere of active and useful exertion.
He had for some time refused to solicit or remind
ministers of their avowed intentions; and he appears
to have imputed the delay in a great measure to the
dilatory habits of lord Oxford. Upon his prospects
of success he expresses himself very cautiously in
his correspondence, though it is clear that he had
made up his mind to return to his willows, as be
expresses it, if something were not speedily done for
him: "It is the last sally I shall ever make," he
says, (16th Jan. 1710-11,) "but I hope it will turn
to some account. I have done more for these, and I
think they are more honest than the last; however,
I will not be disappointed. I would make MD
and me easy, and I never desired more." Again, he
says, "My new friends are very kind, and I have
promises enough, but I do not count upon them;"
and he adds, (May 22, 1711,) "To return without
some mark of distinction would look extremely
little, and I would likewise be gladly somewhat
richer than I am." In the course of a few mouths,
it would also appear, from a passage, (July 1st, 1711.)
that his friends in Ireland had become impatient,
and were fearful of his returning without some pro-
per preferment, when he would be considered in the
light of an ill-used man-an observation which led
Swift to take up the ministers' defence, and to de-
clare, "I had no offers of any living. Lord-keeper
told me some months ago he would give me one
when I pleased; but I told him I would not take
any from him, and the secretary told me the other
day he had refused a very good one for me, but it
was in a place he did not like; and I know nothing
of getting anything here, and if they would give me
leave I would come over just now.
From other passages, however, it is clear that such
was not his intention, cxcept in the case of complete
failure, when he had resolved to abandon and cast
off the ministry, as he proudly termed it, the moment
he thought he was unjustly treated. The warrants
for three vacant deaneries having been filled up by
the queen without his name, he informed the lord-
treasurer he had determined to set out for Ireland;
an intimation probably which induced the latter to
stop them; and after considerable delay and the
expression of much captious jealousy on Swift's side,
who grew exceedingly irritated and excited towards
the close of the business, a warrant for creating him
dean of St. Patrick's was signed on the 23rd of
April, 1713, and in the beginning of June he set
out for Ireland. His intention was to remain there
some time, but he had scarcely gone through the
necessary forms, and recovered from an illness
which had confined him to his living in the country,
when, fresh divisions having broken out in the cabi-
net, he was prevailed upon to return to England.
It was with difficulty he succeeded in obtaining a
temporary cessation of hostilities between the Tory
leaders, become more frequent and inveterate since
He was
* The value of the deane y was estimated at above 7002, a
year, much more than Swift affected to think it was.
never, during his residence in England, introduced to queen
Anne, though he expected it, owing to the misrepresentations of
his principles made by his enemies at court. The lord-trea-
surer, who was accused by Bolingbroke of neglecting the doc-
tor's interests, was more to be pitied than blamed, as he was
naturally unwilling to confess how little the queen's prejudice
lest it in his power to serve Swift, while he wished to ietäin his
friendship and his services. It was some time before Swift
was aware of the real state of the case; he then became im
patient and indignant, feared that his enemies would wholly bar
his promotion, and insisted in no measured terms upon the
premier doing as much as he could for him without waiting to
secure preferment for hita in England.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xlí
the peace and a feeling of greater security. That,
peace having been again attacked, Swift defended it
manfully, devoting himself to the completion of his
history, and resuming his valuable inquiries into the
affairs of Ireland, where the madness of party, added
to the sufferings of the people, had recently led to
acts of open violence. Having invited the attention
of ministers to the subject, placed in their hands the
"History of the Peace of Utrecht," as the strongest
barrier he could raise for their defence, and exhorted
them, as they valued the interests of the country and
their own characters, to endeavour to act with some
degree of concert, he became anxious to attend to
his newly-acquired interests in Ireland. Scarcely,
however, had he entered upon the affairs of his
deanery, when, to use his own expression, a hun-
dred letters came in pursuit of bim to recall him
with all speed; for no sooner, it appears, had he
turned his back, than Oxford and Bolingbroke had
come to an open rupture. He was exceedingly
annoyed at being thus interrupted before he could
regulate the discipline of his own deanery; and in a
letter dated from Ireland to the archbishop of Dub-
lin he states that he should do all in his power to
save the trouble of such a journey, which neither his
fortune nor his health would very well permit.
Upon this occasion, having contrived to meet them
together at lord Masham's, he expostulated with them
more freely than he had before done; but, to his
equal surprise and concern, he found there existed
an increased degree of coldness and aversion
amounting almost to antipathy. At last he pre-
vailed upon them to go to Windsor together the
next day, pleading some appointment to avoid
attending them, but taking care to follow to watch
the result of his good counsel. It was, as he feared,
wholly thrown away upon them: he had only one
other meeting with them, and, finding any reconcilia-
tion wholly impracticable, he told them that, as he
was a common friend to both, he would not take
part with either of them, but wished to withdraw
from the scene: he foresaw their disunion would be
fatal to the general interest, and he was determined to
have no more concern with public affairs. In seve-
ral passages of his letters he seems to hint that, had
others done their duty as zealously as he had him-
self endeavoured, the breach might have been made.
up. "I only wish," he says to his friend Pope, "that
my endeavours had succeeded better in the great
point I had at heart, which was that of reconciling
ministers to each other. ... If this had succeeded,
the public interest both of church and state would
not have been the worse, nor the protestant succes-
sion endangered." His own expressive lines upon
this subject show what his feelings were when he
said that all hope was lost:-
By faction tired, with grief he waits awhile
His great contending friends to reconcile;
Performs what friendship, justice, truth require;
What could he more but decently retire?'
Swift had been anxious for preferment in England
to be near his friends and literary connexions, to
enjoy the society of those whom he admired and
loved; and to avoid the sight of the sufferings in-
flicted upon the unfortunate people of Ireland, which
he declared made his blood boil and his flesh creep
-a view of government and society which doubtless
led to his singular production of a proposal for the
Irish to eat their own children. But had his wishes,
and the exertions made by his friend Oxford to re-
tain him in England, been crowned with success,
Ireland might still have sighed for a liberator and a
benefactor; and all that she has since achieved by
other leaders, his mere disciples and imitators, would
VOL. I.
|
still have been a work not yet performed. Pro-
vidence, however, as if in compassion to a subdued
and unhappy people, who had exhausted all the
horrors of military conquest, and the worse infliction
of a government and a church essentially opposed to
its political and religious independence, raised up the
mighty genius and irresistible arm of Swift to avenge
and to vindicate the rights of an oppressed and in-
sulted nation.
а
It is evident, from his letters to his different friends
and from his own recorde i observations at this period,
that Swift looked forward to the speedy dissolution
of the Tory ministry. As his services might be sud-
denlycalled for in some emergency, he was unwilling
to make a new voyage from Dublin to London every
month to compose the differences of the ministry, and
wisely determined to stop a snort time and watch
the progress of events. He returned to the house
of his friend Mr. Geary, at Letcomb, where his
active mind not permitting him a moment's rest,
after trausmitting his directions to his Irish agent,
he sat down to compose his tract called "Some
Free Thoughts upon the Present State of Affairs
in which he charges the ministers as the cause of
the reigning disorders, and lays the greatest blame
upon the one whom he most loved and admired,
lord Oxford. It is quite evident that he believed
both lord Oxford and lord Bolingbroke to be more
sedulously engaged in advancing their own designs
than in promoting the interests of the public; and
his motives were doubtless to excite their fears by
the hints thrown out, that, instead of either triumph-
ing over the other, they would probably both be de-
serted as well by their own party as by the queen.
"It may be matter," he says, "of no little admi-
ration to consider in some lights the state of affairs
among us for four years past. The queen, finding
herself and the majority of her kingdom grown
weary of the avarice and the insolence, the mistaken
politics and destructive principles of her former mi-
nisters, calls to the service of the public another set
of men, who by confession of their enemies had
equal abilities at least with their predecessors, whose
interest made it necessary for them to act upon those
maxims which were most agreeable to the consti-
tution in church and state; whose birth and patri-
monies gave them weight in the nation, and who
(I speak of those who came to have the chief part
in affairs) had long lived under the strictest bonds
of friendship.'
The old controversy with Steele was now renewed
with the bitterest animosity on both sides. In a
number of the “Guardian” (128) Steele charged the
ministry with negligence in executing that stipu-
lation of the treaty of Utrecht relating to the demo-
lition of Dunkirk; and when on the point of being
elected a member of parliament for Stockbridge he
renewed his attack in a pamphlet-" The Import-
ance of Dunkirk Considered,"--which produced some
noise; and in the absence of Swift, with other tracts
on the Whig side, was beginning to produce an im-
pression by no means favourable to the stability of
the Tory ministry. It was probably upon this
ground that Swift's presence and services w te
again required, as much as to heal the divisions in
• Some enemy of Swift composed a mork diary in the dean s
mauner, printed in one of the Grub-street tracts, on the occasion
of his disappearance from the deanery, which gave rise to great
dismay among the friends of the adminis ration, and triumph
to their foes.-See Swift's letter to the second earl of exord
(1737), with an account of this transaction and his efforts us
mediator.
See also the copy of verses by Smedley, fixed on the door of
St. Patrick's on the day of Swift's instalment, interior only to
his own in point of wit and humour.
xlii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
1FT
hin still with a stern countenance, and aiming a
blow at his adversaries.”
Within a few weeks after the death of the queen
Swift returned to his deanery in Ireland, where he
continued to reside several years without once visit
ing England. It was there, in the year 1717, he
became completely reconciled to Addison, and main-
tained a constant correspondence with distinguished
individuals of both parties; and it appears from one
of his letters to Pope (as early as January, 1710)
how much he had pressed lord Oxford in favour of
Addison, Rowe, Congreve, and Steele: he also gives
his elegant answer to lord Halifax when he asked the
earl on the first change of ministry to spare Con-
greve; acts which must have been a source of de-
lightful reflection to him after having quitted the
busy scene of politics. He says also, in a letter to
lady Betty Germaine, "When I had credit for some
years at court I provided for above fifty people in
both kingdoms, of which not one was a relation;"
and he more than once observes that lord Oxford
never once refused him any request of that sort. The
extent of his public and private charities while in
England was very great, of which we may form some
idea from the number of addresses from persons
little known to him, or with whom he was wholly
unacquainted. He procured the rectory of St. An-
drew, Holborn, for Sacheverell, though he held him
in such light estimation that he refused to see him;
moved only by a principle of justice for his having
rendered assistance to the ministry and been ne-
glected by them.
the ministry; and the expectations of its leaders
were not disappointed. Swift took up their quarrel
with all the spirit of his former partisanship, eager
also to inflict what he considered just retributive
punishment for Steele's continued insolence and in-
gratitude. Both were in the highest degree angry
and excited; and it is humiliating to read the low
and despicable shifts, the petty malice, and the per-
sonal animosity which this public controversy pro-
duced. In "The Importance of the Guardian Con-
sidered" he reflected on the person, morals, and
abilities of his early friend, holding up his portrait
to the laughter and ridicule of the world: he ex-
poses his pretensions to rank as a statesman, and his
meanness as an original writer, as the appropriator❘
of others' productions, to give him character, in the
Tatlers and Spectators, and the occasional author of
a wretched Guardian; following up his career as a
soldier, alchemist, gazetteer, commissioner of stamped
papers, and gentleman-usher. In another, entitled
the "Character of Richard Steele, Esq., with some
Remarks by Toby Abel's Kinsman" (1713), which
bears evidence of Swift's hand, though generally
generally
ascribed to Dr. Wagstaffe, the reflections are so
ludicrous, as well as severe, that Steele is said to
have been more affected by it than by any previous
publication of the kind, and to have ascribed it to
Swift, or to his active instigation :-" I think I know
the author of this; and to show him I know no re-
venge but in the method of heaping coal on his
head by benefits, I forbear giving him what he de-
serves, for no other reason but that I know his sen-
sibility of reproach is such as that he would be un-
able to bear life itself under half the ill language
that he has given me." ("Englishman," No. 57.)
It may indeed be remarked, as a singular fact, that
Swift himself alludes to the sensitiveness of his dis-
position in this respect, and that it was a peculiarity
of his earlier character. "I was originally," he
says, "as unwilling to be libelled as the nicest man
can be; but having been used to such treatment ever
since I unhappily began to be known, I am now
grown hardened." (Letter to Dr. Irving, June 8,
1732.) Not content with this, he attacked Steele in
a most ludicrous paraphrase of the first ode of the
second book of Horace, said to be wholly his own
composition. Steele, with the assistance of Addison,
Hoadly, Lechmere, and Marshall, in preparing the
"Crisis," intended to excite the public upon the
subject of the protestant succession, and the too
great influence of France. It was brought out with
much éclat, with the view, it was said, of benefiting
the reputed author in his necessities by crying it up
with the public-an advantage of which Swift, who
seems in this controversy to have thrown off his
usual restraint or regard for Addison and his friend,
did not fail to avail himself in his caustic and bitter
comments in the "Public Spirit of the Whigs.”
But neither this controversy nor his strictures upon
the conduct of ministers in his "Free Thoughts"
had time to produce much effect before the some-"
what sudden death of the queen carried dismay into
the Tory camp, dispersed the best-conceived schemes
to the winds, and made a complete revolution in
public affairs. It was a terrific blow to the Tory
party throughout the country; cut short the dean's
prospects and ruined his hopes of ever receiving
preferment and residing among his old acquaintance
in England. Dr. Arbuthnot, in a letter addressed
to his friend Pope, gives an interesting account of
the impression produced upon Swift by this import-
ant event. "I have seen a letter from dean Swift,
he observes "he keeps up his noble spirit, and
though like a man knocked down, you may behold
:
""
1
Swift's return to Ireland, under circumstances so
unexpected, anticipating the speedy downfall of
the party he most approved and the friends he
best loved, must have been attended with many un-
easy reflections. The spirit of faction ran high; re-
ports the most injurious of the ministry's design to
bring in the pretender, and the epithets of Tory and
Jacobite, were spread on all sides. Swift, from the
conspicuous part he had played, became a marked
man, and though he studiously withdrew from all
participation in political matters, he was recognised
and insulted in the streets of Dublin by the mob,
while the higher classes sought the favour of the
court by treating him with studied neglect and con-
tumely. He was compelled, in order to protect
himself from outrage, to draw up a petition to the
house of lords, especially against the brutal and dan-
gerous attacks of lord Blaney. The exercise of
riding was essential to his health, always variable;
but in other respects he lived perfectly retired, de-
voting himself to the duties of his station and the
arrangement of his domestic affairs.
The
Subsequently, upon the breaking up of the Tory
administration, Swift's feelings and conduct upon
the occasion are described in a letter, addressed most
probably to the archbishop of Dublin's proctor or
agent (July 29, 1714), in which he says, "I have
been these two months fifty miles from London, to
avoid the storm that has happened at court.
news will tell you a post or two before this of my
lord Oxford's laying down office: he was to do it
yesterday. He has sent to desire I would stay with
him at his house in Herefordshire, which I am not
likely to refuse, though I may probably suffer a good
deal in my little affairs in Ireland by my absence.
This makes it necessary for me to desire you would
please to renew my licence of absence, which ex-
pires about the end of August, when this incident
changed it. I think it is about this time four years
that you came to my lodging with Mr. Pratt to tell
me the news of lord Godolphin's going out, which
was as joyful to me as this is otherwise. I believe
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xlii
will reckon me an ill courtier to follow a dis-
you
carded statesman to his retirement, especially when
I have been always as well with those now in power
as I was with him. But to answer that would require
talking, and I have already troubled you so much.
"I am, sir, your most obedient humble servant,
"JONATHAN SWIFT.
"Pray let the absence be general as before. I
was very near wanting it some months ago with a
vengeance. [Perhaps for the Public Spirit of the
Whigs.']
I know not what alterations this change
may make in the scheme for Irish promotions: I hear
Drs. Pratt and Ellwood are secure."
This letter does infinite honour to the heart and
feelings of the man, in whom affection and gratitude
absorbed every thought of the tempting offers to his
ambition and pride.
It would seem that the subsequent renewal of a
strictly friendly and social intercourse between
Swift and Addison took place about 1717, upon the
latter coming as secretary into Ireland. The regard
with which Swift now treated him shows how happy
he was in the opportunity afforded of their meeting
once more without the fatal influence of party throw-
ing a damp upon their mutual regard.
"I should be much concerned," he says,
"if I
did not think you were a little angry with me for
not congratulating you upon being secretary. But
I choose my time, as I would to visit you, when all
your company is gone. I am confident you have
given ease of mind to many thousand people who
will never believe that any ill can be intended to
the constitution, to the church or state, while you are
in so high a trust, and I should have been of the
same opinion though I had not the happiness to
küʊw you.
I am extremely obliged for your kind
remembrance some months ago by the bishop of
Derry, and for your generous intentions, if you had
come to Ireland, to have made party to give way to
friendship by continuing your acquaintance. I exa-
mine my heart, and can find no other reason why
I write to you now beside that great love and esteem
I have always had for you. I have nothing to ask
you either for any friend or for myself. When I
conversed among ministers I boasted of your ac-
quaintance; but I feel no vanity from being known
to a secretary of state. I am only a little concerned
to see you stand single: for it is a prodigious sin-
gularity in any court to owe one's rise entirely to
merit. I will venture to tell you a secret,-that three
or four more such choices would gain more hearts in
three weeks than all the methods hitherto practised
have been able to do in as many years.
"It is now time for me to recollect that I am writ-
ing to a secretary of state, who has little time allow-
ed him for trifles; I therefore take my leave with
assurances of my being ever, with the truest respect,
sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
"JONATHAN SWIFT."
Other evidences are not wanting of the friendly
disposition felt by Swift towards his early and be-
loved connexions, of whatever party, and in his
correspondence with Pope, Arbuthnot, and Gay, are
some passages of exquisite pathos and beauty, ex-
pressing his sorrow, especially as he became aware
of the more frequent inroads of disease. In one of
his letters to Pope (Jan. 10, 1721) he alludes to the
retired habits and mode of life he had so prudently
adopted during the re-action of popular opinion and
the triumph of the Whigs, which rendered it danger-
ous for the dean to appear in public without being
protected, so great was the excitement produced by
me violent conduct, impeachments, and prosecutions
་
I
"In a few weeks.' he says,
of the new ministry.
"after the loss of that excellent princess, I came to
my station here, where I have continued ever since
in the greatest privacy and utter ignorance of those
events which are most commonly talked of in the
world. I know neither the names nor the number
of the family which now reigneth, further than the
prayer-book informeth me. I cannot tell who is
chancellor, who are secretaries, nor with what
uations we are at peace or war. And this mannre
of life was not taken up out of any sort of affectation,
but merely to avoid giving offence and for fear of
provoking party zeal." It is clear from the fore-
going and other passages that, though Swift wisely
resigned himself to circumstances not to be avoided,
he felt keenly the marked contrast between his pre-
sent mode of life and that in which he exercised the
intellectual power and ascendancy he so strongly
coveted. His gloom and disappointment break out
in spite of himself, while he affects to hold politics
and princes in utter forgetfulness. "I say nothing"
("Dedication to History") "of his present Britannic
majesty, to whose person and character I am an utter
stranger, and likely to continue so. I might have
avoided some years' uneasiness and vexation during
the last four years of our excellent queen, as well as
a long melancholy prospect since, in a most obscure.
disagreeable country and among a most profligate
and abandoned people. Upon her majesty's
lamented death I returned to my station in this
kingdom; since which time there is not a northern
curate among you who has lived more obscure than
myself, or a greater stranger to the transactions of
the world." In the frank unreserved communica-
tion with his friends in England about this period,
Swift supplies us with the most interesting details
respecting his residence in Ireland, which he always
regarded as an honourable exile, the result of neces-
sity and not of choice. He draws the portrait of an
unhappy and discarded statesman rather than of a
ceived promotion, satisfied with his lot, and indulg-
dean of the English church, who had recently re-
ing hopes of further preferment; and this spirit of
querulous disappointment, injurious alike to his
health and happiness, till he once more plunged into
the sea of controversy, is shown without disguise in
one of his letters to Gay:—"I would describe to
you my way of living, if any method could be called
so in this country. I choose my companions among
those of least consequence and most compliance.
I read the most trifling books I can find, and when
I write it is upon the most trifling subjects; but
riding, sleeping, walking, take up eighteen of the
twenty-four hours. I procrastinate more than I did
twenty years ago, and have several things to finish
It was
which I put off to twenty years hence."
probably with a view to relax from his former severe
exertions, and to diminish the force of that inveterate
disease which pursued him through life, that Swift
now gave up so much of his time to what he termed
the bagatelle, courting only those acquaintance who,
instead of competing with or thwarting him, felt
gratified in his society and treated him with defer-
ence and respect. Among the most agreeable of
these were sir Arthur and lady Acheson; and during
the dean's residence at their seat, Market-hill, it is
observed by Scott that he produced some of the
most marked specimens of his very peculiar poetical
vein. "The inimitable poem entitled The Grand
Question Debated' is a proof of the same brilliant
humour and happy power of assuming and sustain-
ing a feigned character which distinguished Mrs.
Frances Harris's Petition,' and other effusions of the
author's earlier days; and which at length was too
d 2
xliv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
apt to be lost in the trifling and punning intercourse
which he maintained in old age with Sheridan and
other friends."
He enjoyed moreover the almost constant society
of his favourite pupil, and now more mature friend,
Stella, of Dr. Sheridan, Dr. Delany, and a select few
both of humbler and higher rank; and in the dis-
charge of his clerical duties, in conducting the affairs
of his deanery, presiding at occasional dinners, and
dispensing charities, seemed to have forgotten there
existed a political world in which he had borne so
conspicuous a part, when tidings which roused some
of his former spirit and all his affection for England,
recalled him to a recollection of the part he had
played. This was no less than an account of the
committal of his friend lord Oxford, to whom he had
already shown the most devoted attachment, to the
Tower, at the instigation of his most active enemies.
As Swift had before followed his fortunes into re-
treat, and refused to participate in the expected ac-
cession of lord Bolingbroke to the premiership, so
he now wrote to him in the most urgent terms to
beg that he would allow him to share his captivity.
The tenor of his letter is that of a grateful and at-
tached follower, who, with the delicacy of a sensitive
and noble mind, humbles himself and expresses in-
creased respect and attention upon witnessing the
fallen fortunes of a beloved friend. My lord," he
says, it may look like an idle or officious thing in
me to give your lordship any interruption under your
present circumstances; yet I could never forgive my-
self if, after having been treated for several years
with the greatest kindness and distinction by a per-
son of your lordship's virtue, I should omit making
you at this time the humblest offers of my poor ser-
vices and attendance. It is the first time I ever so-
licited you on my own behalf; and if I am refused it
will be the first request you ever refused me.”
rangements; but the dean was not one to raise ques-
tions without knowledge, or to sacrifice the least
particle of his rights: he administered them with a
firm hand, and finally quashed the vexatious proceed-
ings of his predecessor and others, and restored dis
cipline and obedience among the officers of his chap-
ter. He had no sooner however surmounted his
difficulties here, than others of a more delicate and
complicated nature met him in the unfortunate at-
tachment which Miss Vanhomrigh, a young person of
great personal attractions and accomplishments, had
conceived for him when he visited her family in Eng-
land.
land. It seems to have taken its rise very much in
the same manner as that of Miss Johnson, the un-
fortunate Stella, from strong admiration of Swift's
brilliant talents and powers of pleasing, and from too
frequent intercourse in the relative characters of tutor
and pupil. From Swift's own letters it would ap-
pear also that the attachment, in whatever way so
unhappily formed, was in some degree mutual. His
poem of "Cadenus and Vanessa," a fanciful appella-
tion formed out of Esther Vanhomrigh, gives suffici-
ent though mysterious hints to countenance the same
supposition, and its existence doubtless tended to
embarrass his return and embitter his residence, with
regard to his familiar friendship for Stella, in Ireland.
In a letter addressed to the former (8th July, 1713),
he seems to deplore the necessity which removed
him from England: “I staid," he says, "but a fort-
night in Dublin, very sick, and returned not one visit
of a hundred that were made me; but all to the dean
and none to the doctor. I am riding here for life;
and I think I am something better. I hate the
thoughts of Dublin, and prefer a field-bed and an
earthen floor before the great house there which they
say is mine. At my first coming I thought I should
have died with discontent, and was horribly melan-
choly while they were installing me, but it begins to
wear off and change to dulness."
It would appear from Swift's letters as well as oc-
casional passages in the "Journal to Stella," that he
had found other occasions, wholly independent of
politics, to prove his fidelity and devotion to the
friends he had left in England. When the duke of
Hamilton fell in a fatal duel with lord Bohun, he
showed the most compassionate kindness and atten-
Of the sincerity of Swift, and the high estimation
in which he held the character of lord Oxford, there
can be no doubt; and in a short paper called "Great
Figures made by several Persons in particular Ac-
tions or Circumstances of their Lives," we find among
examples drawn from antiquity the mention of Robert
Harley at his trial. After the death of queen Anne
the Whigs, bent upon proceeding to extremities, de-
clared the peace of Utrecht contrary to the intereststion to his friend the duchess, and when other relief
of Britain, and the managers in it were impeached.
Lord Oxford, after an imprisonment of two years,
was tried for high treason, when, a difference arising
between the lords and commons, the latter, out of
pique, failed to support the impeachment, and Ox-
ford, greatly to the mortification of the Whig leaders,
was unanimously acquitted. But Bolingbroke, during
the negotiation of the peace of Utrecht, was charged
with treasonable intimacy with the French ministers,
a suspicion which was strengthened by his supposed
intimacy with Madame Tencin. Though the fallen
minister was disinterested enough to refuse to take
advantage of Swift's generous proposal, he lost no
time after his acquittal in replying to his friend in a
letter expressive of the utmost regard and affection ;
and during the whole period of his first residence in
Ireland he continued to receive the same assurances
of undiminished respect from his political and literary
friends, to which we owe some of the most interest-
ing portions of his works-the correspondence.
The
Another source of uneasiness to Swift was the re-
peated contentions he had to encounter with his
chapter and the prelacy of the Irish church.
archbishop of Dublin, who had never regarded him
with a friendly eye, continued a vexatious opposition;
and Dr. Sterne, the man who was indebted to him
for his promotion, tried to thwart him in all his ar-
was of no avail he uniformly administered the con-
solations of religion; while his charities in every re-
spect were as well directed as they were extensive.
In the instance of Guiscard's nefarious attempt to
assassinate Harley, and the subsequent efforts made
to injure his character by insinuating suspicions of
his treasonable correspondence with France, and
more than all in his becoming the instrument of
saving him from another premeditated assassination,
Swift invariably showed the warmest sympathy and
most tender alarm for the sufferings and danger of his
friend. He seems always to have been on the watch;
and one day while he was with Harley, then lord-
treasurer, a packet was brought in which by its ex-
terior appearance excited the doctor's suspicions.
He begged to be permitted to open it, which he did
with great precaution, and discovered three pistols.
cocked and charged, with a string attached to dis-
charge them according to another account they
were barrels of large ink-horns, filled with powder
that was by some process to be iguited. However
this was, Swift considered the danger real, and that
he had really saved the life of the lord-treasurer;
though the Whigs were wicked enough to turn the
whole affair into ridicule, and to write ballads and
lampoons upon it, under the title of the band-box
plot, and even scrupled not to insinuate that the
JONATHAN SWIFT.
doctor was himself toe author of the terrific plot, to
aise his importance in the lord-treasurer's and in
the nation's eyes.
But Swift as stoutly maintained
that his own life was actually in danger not less than
that of the minister; and after the nearly fatal ex-
perience they had had in the case of Guiscard, and
in the inveterate hatred and violence of the Whigs,
Swift was perfectly justified in attaching to it the
importance which he did. Swift is stated by Scott to
have been trusted by Oxford in his private as well
as public affairs. He was supposed to have assisted
in the negotiations which preceded the alliance be-
tween the lord-treasurer's eldest son and the only
child of the duke of Newcastle, and in the arrange-
ments which followed for the division of the duke's
inheritance betwixt her and lord Pelham, the male
heir. This was a point which Oxford had so greatly
at heart, that Bolingbroke afterwards termed it the
ultimate end of his administration. Swift, upon this
joyful occasion, wrote the poetical "Address to Lord
Harley on his Marriage." But his sympathising
friendship is still more deeply manifested in his letter
to the lord-treasurer on the death of his daughter, the
marchioness Caermarthen, than which there is no-
thing in the English language more beautifully and
feelingly expressed. And the constancy of his at-
tachment at the most distressing period of Oxford's
life was such as well made good the manly expres-
sions of regard with which, on retiring from London,
he bade his lordship farewell :-" When I was with
"When I was with
you I have said more than once that I would never
allow quality or station made any real difference
between men. Being now absent and forgotten, I
have changed my mind; you have a thousand people
who can pretend they love you, with as much ap-
pearance of sincerity as I; so that, according to com-
mou justice, I can have but a thousandth part in re-
turn of what I give, and this difference is wholly
owing to your station. And the misfortune is still
the greater because I loved you so much the less for
your station, for in your public capacity you have
often angered me, but as a private man never."-
(Scott's Memoirs," &c.)
44
In the formation of the philanthropical society of
brothers, which afterwards gave rise to the more
celebrated Scriblerus' Club, Swift's object was still
to promote the benefit of others, by uniting the
powerful and wealthy in a bond of affectionate love,
for the protection of the unfortunate; or the witty
and accomplished, by combining to diffuse sound
principles of taste and composition. Of the latter,
Oxford and St. John, Swift, Arbuthnot, Pope, and
Gay, were the members. "It was," says Scott, "the
well-known object of their united powers to compose
a satire upon the abuse of human learning. Part of
their labours has been preserved in the Memoirs of
Martinus Scriblerus,' which gave name to the so-
ciety; and part has been rendered immortal by the
Travels of Lemuel Gulliver:' but the violence of
political faction, like a storm that spares the laurel
no more than the cedar, dispersed this little band of
literary brethren, and prevented the accomplishment
of a task for which talents so various, so extended,
and brilliant, can never again be united."-(Scott's
Memoirs," &c.) During Swift's last attempts to re-
"The following notice of Swift" (observes Scott)" occurs in
a poem on the late Examiner,' which appeared about this
time :-
4
´´´ ◇ Jonathan of merry fame,
As Swift in fancy as in name,-
Here lie, as thou hast often done,
Thy holy mother's pious son;
Deprived of paper, pen, and ink,
And, what is worse, deprived of drink:
For lo, thy idol ox, thy staff and rod,
As thou wouldst say, are dropp`d by God.'”
concile the great Tory leaders, he prepared for press
two additional tracts"Memoirs relating to the
Change which happened in the Queen's Ministry in
1710;" and "An Inquiry into the Behaviour of the
last Ministry, with relation to their Quarrels between
themselves, and the Design charged upon them of
altering the Succession of the Crown." His object
was to vindicate the conduct of the Tory ministers
and their party, and to rebut the serious charges
brought against them by the Whig writers; and he
especially ridiculed the popular bugbear of an in-
tention to bring in the pretender. They were also
drawn up less with any temporary view than as a
calm and impartial appeal to the justice of posterity.
His
So con-
The account of Swift's reception in Ireland sub-
sequent to the queen's death and the dissolution of
the Tory ministry, by lord Orrery, offers a singular
contrast to that given by Dr. Delany at the period of
the dean's instalment; for the discrepancy between
the two is so great that we are justified in concluding
they were speaking of different periods. In the first
instance he was received with marked respect, if we
except the scurrilous verses by Smedley upon his
taking possession of the deanery; but it is doubtless
the second time of his return from England to which
Orrery refers when he says that he dared hardly ven-
ture forth and was pelted by the populace. And it
was probably when thus treated, than which we can
imagine nothing more galling to a man so fond of
popular influence and power, that he designated the
people as a vile abandoned race, from whom he
seemed desirous of seeking refuge anywhere.
prudence and integrity, however, even in the opinion
of the critical Johnson, soon changed the tide of
public feeling-he was seldom in the wrong-his
spirit rose with opposition; and the archbishop of
Dublin (Dr. King) almost invariably gave way, like
the archbishop of York and his other opponents;
who finally solicited either the acquaintance or
friendship of the good but eccentric dean.
fident, indeed, was his friend lord Bolingbroke in
his powers of pleasing where once he obtained an
introduction, that, on Oxford's dismissal, he courted
the dean's support upon any terms, engaging that he
would even reconcile him to the court and his in-
veterate enemy the duchess of Somerset, and open
the treaty for his promotion to an English bishop-
ric. During his brief tenure of power, (only a
few days,) Bolingbroke showed his high estimation
of the dean by obtaining from the queen an order
for one thousand pounds to cover the charges upon
his instalment, of which, though suddenly deprived
of this benefit by her death, and finally giving it
to his enemy Walpole-multa gemens-as he ex-
presses it, offers no less a striking proof of his im-
mense influence with a man like Bolingbroke. "Yet,"
to his immortal honour,” observes Scott, "when his
favourite path of honour, ambition, preferment,
opened anew before him (in the place of honourable
exile in Ireland), he paused not a moment, but wrote
to solicit a renewal of his licence for absence, then
on the point of expiring; not that he might share
the triumph and prospects to which he was invited
by the royal favourite and the new prime minister,
but in order to accompany his beloved friend and
patron to neglect and seclusion.” (Scott's “Memoirs,”
&c.) Such was the man upon whom libels upon
libels were showered, whom the mob insulted in the
streets, and even young men of rank so far forgot
their education and ancestral honours as to insult
openly, and endanger his life in the public high-
ways, till they compelled him in his own defence to
apply for legislative protection. Being under the
necessity of taking daily exercise, and unable to
up
xlvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
venture out without risk of his life, he drew up a pe-
tition addressed to the house of lords, upon an un-
provoked and brutal outrage upon him by one of the
members of their house; and as it throws strong
light upon his mode of living, and is an amusing
anecdote, we give it here :-
"The humble petition of Jonathan Swift, D.D.,
and dean of the cathedral of St. Patrick's,
Dublin,
"Most humbly sheweth,
"That your petitioner is advised by his physi-
cians, on account of his health, to go often on horse-
back; and there being no place in winter so con-
venient for riding as the strand toward Howth, your
petitioner takes all opportunities that his business or
the weather will permit to take that road. That in
the last session of parliament, in the midst of winter,
as your petitioner was returning from Howth with
his two servants, one before and the other behind
him, he was pursued by two gentlemen in a chaise
drawn by two high-mettled horses in such a manner
that his servant who rode behind him was forced to
give way with the utmost peril of his life; where-
upon your petitioner made what speed he could,
riding to the right and left above fifty yards, to the
full extent of the said road; but the two gentlemen,
driving a light chaise drawn by fleet horses, and in-
tent upon mischief, turned faster than your peti-
tioner, endeavouring to overthrow him. That, by
great accident, your petitioner got safe to the side
of a ditch, where the chaise could not safely pursue;
and, the two gentlemen stopping their career, your
petitioner mildly expostulated with them, where-
upon one of the gentlemen said, 'Damn you, is not
the road as free for us as for you?' and, calling to;
his servant who rode behind him, said, Tom (or
some such name), is the pistol loaded with ball?'
To which the servant replied, 'Yes, my lord;' and
gave him the pistol. Your petitioner often said to
the gentleman, 'Pray, sir, do not shoot, for my horse
is apt to start, by which my life may be endangered.'
The chaise went forward, aud your petitioner took
the opportunity to stay behind. Your petitioner is
informed that the person who spoke the words above
mentioned is of your lordships' house, under the
style and title of lord Blaney, whom your petitioner
remembers to have introduced to Mr. secretary Ad-
dison, in the earl of Wharton's government, and to
have done him other good offices at that time, be-
cause he was represented as a young man of some
hopes and a broken fortune. That the said lord
Blaney, as your petitioner is informed, is now in
Dublin, and sometimes attends your lordships'
house. And your petitioner's health still requiring
that he should ride, and being confined in winter to
go on the same strand, he is forced to inquire from
every one he meets whether the said lord be on the
same strand; and to order his servants to carry arms
against the like or a worse insult from the said lord,
for the consequences of which your petitioner can-
not answer.
"Your petitioner is informed by his learned.
couusel that there is no law now in being which
can justify the said lord, under colour of his
peerage.
to assault any of his majesty's subjects on the king's
highway, and put them in fear of their lives, without
provocation, which he humbly conceives that by only
happening to ride before the said lord he could not
possibly give.
"Your petitioner, therefore, doth humbly implore
your lordships, in your great prudence and justice,
to provide that he may be permitted to ride with
safety on the said strand, or any other of the king's
}
1
highways, for the recovery of his health, so long as
he shall demean himself in a peaceable manner,
without being put into continual fears of his life by
the force and arms of the said lord Blaney."
Among others of the same aristocratic stamp sir
Thomas Southwell, one of the commissioners of the
revenue, often mentioned as a friend in Swift's
letters and journal, took equal pride in kicking at
the dying political lion (as Swift was then con-
sidered), by treating him with marked contumely
and neglect. The dean had occasion to address him
upon some occasion respecting a matter of business
in public. "I'll hold you a groat, Mr. Dean," was
the vulgar reply, "that I do not know you at
all." Some time afterwards, when this hopeful sprig
of aristocracy was created my lord Southwell he con-
ceived it would forward his views to court the popu-
lar and influential drapier, expressing of course the
deepest regret, like the two archbishops and other
aspersers of the dean's good name, for his past
conduct, as being occasioned by the heat of party;
and once attempted to regain the insulted dean's
acquaintance by saluting him with the greatest
courtesy. But Swift, with that readiness of retort
for which he was so remarkable, gave him back his
own coin in the very words he had used-
"I'll lay
you a groat, my lord, I do not know you."
Other instances of the lofty demeanour and cou-
rageous conduct of the dean, under the adverse cir-
cumstances of his party and the Whig persecutions
which ensued, are not wanting, which raised him
both in private and public opinion previous to the
popular opposition he commenced with reference to
the introduction of Wood's notable scheme, and the
oppressive Irish government of Walpole. To such a
degree also was the spy-system carried on as to in-
duce the dean to secure his manuscripts as well as
his ordinary letters from the gripe of the new
government, which, on again attaining power, took
warning by the fate of its Tory predecessor in neg-
lecting to destroy those whom it had conquered,
and, by impeachment and other processes, not only
crippled its adversaries, but reduced them for the
period to absolute extremity. Swift's private letters
were opened, and a packet addressed by him to the
duke of Ormond's chaplain was seized by a mes-
senger. It was even industriously reported by the
Whig emissaries that dean Swift had suddenly ab-
sconded in consequence of the treasonable contents
of newly discovered papers; and many other little
dirty arts to blast his fame were resorted tɔ.
Had there existed the shadow of a power of
proceeding against him, there is no reason to
doubt that the great Whigs of the day would have
seized upon it to effectually silence the voice of one
who, by his single efforts, had turned the tide of
public opinion, opened the way to a peace, and de-
prived them of the means of all their permanent
war abuses, their taxes, contracts, and wide-spread
speculations. The dean we held up, however, as a
suspicious and disaffected person; and all his Whig
acquaintance held aloof as from a marked man:
nor are traces of this spirit wanting in the letters of
his former correspondents. In one from archbishop
King, the professed friend but secret maligner of
Swift's reputation, this derogatory tone, implying
censure, suspicion, and sarcasm—
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike”—
is peculiarly observable, and may serve as a sample
of the thousand. "We have a strong report," he
says, "that my lord Bolingbroke will return here and
be pardoned; certainly it must not be for nothing,
I hope he can tell no ill story of you."
}
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xlvii
How frankly and nobly on the other hand, with
the indignation of conscious rectitude, Swift repels
the mean insinuations of the archbishop and his nu-
merous traducers of the same character!—“ I should
be sorry," he observes, "to see my lord Bolingbroke
following the trade of an informer, because he is a
person for whom I have always had and still conti-
nue a very great love and esteem.
And as to my-
self, if I were of any importance I should be very
easy under such an accusation, much easier than I
am to think your grace imagines me in any danger.
I am surprised your grace could think or act or cor-
respond with me for some years past, while you
must needs believe me a most false and vile man,
declaring to you on all occasions my abhorrence of
the pretender, and yet privately engaged with a
ministry to bring him in. I always professed to be
against the pretender, and am so still. And this is
not to make my court, which I know is vain; for I
own myself full of doubts, fears, and dissatisfactions,
which I think on as seldom as I can. Yet if I were
of any value, the public may safely rely on my
loyalty, because I look upon the coming of the pre-
tender as a greater evil than any we are likely to
suffer under the worst Whig ministry that can be
found."
As affording the most happy illustrations of the
dean's real character and opinions at this period, ex-
hibited in his mode of living, his private converse,
and correspondence with intimate friends, we shall
continue to give occasional extracts from his own
letters in preference to retailing the petty scandals
from the pen of lord Orrery and his imitators, whose
allegations have been amply refuted by the ablest
and most impartial of Swift's biographers, from the
honest Delany to the pre-eminently distinguished
Scott.
Although it is evident that Swift considered him-
self in a state of honourable exile in Ireland, he
adapted himself to his circumstances with the be-
coming spirit of an Irish resident who has no means
of escape. He opened his house for a public table
two days in every week, and his fame and social
wit not having suffered by political conflict, his en-
tertainments became gradually frequented by nume-
rous visitants of learning among the men, and of
elegance and taste among the ladies, attracted no
less by curiosity than by the amiable manners and
accomplishments of Stella (Miss Johnson), who
lived not far from the deanery, and presided upon
these occasions, but simply in the character of a
guest.
Upon other days, however, the dean often dined
at a stated price with Mr. Worrall, a clergyman of
his cathedral, whose house was the more pleasant to
him owing to the peculiar neatness and good humour
of his wife. To this frugal mode of living Swift
was the more inclined from his earnest wish to pay
some debts: what he adopted from principle he con-
tinued from choice, and for the means it gave him of
more extended charitics, of restoring and ornament-
ing the cathedral, besides the hopes he had early
formed of founding an hospital and of leaving the
deanery to his successor in a more improved state
than he found it. His parsimony, which doubtless
increased with age, was thus held subordinate to his
dignity, his public spirit, and his benevolence; and
it was his customary saying that he was "the poorest
gentleman in Ireland who ate upon plate, and the
richest that lived without a coach." The rest of"
Swift's time during his earlier residence in Ireland
appears to have been spent in occasional excursions,
when he made his observations upon the character
anl condition of the people, in occasional visits to
{
1
Nor
the seats of his friends and to his vicarage at Laracor,
which he still retained. Always fond of the more
refined and dignified amusements of the country, he
took pleasure in laying out grounds, in planting and
cultivating, as be termed it, "his willows" - a pursuit
in which he would often indulge at Quilca, the country
residence of his friend Dr. Sheridan, and which gave
rise to some amusing anecdotes to be met with in
his works. But his happiest moments in his relax-
ation from the superintendence of his clerical
duties were spent in addressing his friends in Eng-
land and receiving tidings of their welfare.-" Two
years' retreat," says lord Oxford (6th August, 1717),
"has made me taste the conversation of my dearest
friend with a greater relish than even, at the time of
my being charmed with it in our frequent journeys
to Windsor. My heart is often with you."
are the expressions made use of in the letters of lord
Bolingbroke a and Swift's other friends, when every
interested motive and all views of ambition, wealth,
and power had ceased to operate, less honourable to
the character of Swift, whose great and amiable
qualities seem to have possessed in his absence,
the same power over those who knew him with all
persons and of whichever sex, as they had done
when he was present before them. Of this singular
power, resembling a sort of fascination in Swift's
conversation and society, there are a number of
striking instances on record from the very first mani-
festation of his remarkable character and talents;
for, to make a summary from the beginning of his
most extraordinary history, it is certain that a pretty
bar-maid of an inn at Leicester first fell in love with
him, and awakened his mother's apprehensions of
his forming an imprudent engagement; the sister of
his college companion Mr. Waryng next became at-
tached to him, and was so deeply smitten as to urge
him closely on the topic of matrimony. Yet, strange
to say, in neither of these affairs does it appear that
Swift at all assumed the character, much less the
usual assiduities, of a lover; and all the inference
we can make is that there are peculiar qualities in
certain men of mental and personal superiority
which first give rise to admiration in woman's eyes,
then to love, and lastly to the desire of monopolising
the beloved object. There is no proof upon record
of Swift ever having made the first advances, or of
his ever having replied in the usual love-terms to
those advances when made. On the contrary, the
evidence is altogether of an opposite kind, that the
intercourse was one of mind and of a purely intel-
lectual kind, and that the opinion entertained of
Swift's natural coldness and perhaps constitutional
defect was a correct one; but that he possessed
some peculiar attraction in the ladies' eyes, the cir-
cumstance of his having received an anonymous
declaration of love from a third lady at an early pe-
riod of life seems to offer some degree of proof. His
correspondence with the fourth lady upon the list
scems to have commenced very much in the same
mauner, on the lady's side, from the unhappy eir-
Nothing in the English language can surpass the admira-
tion of Switt's high qualities, the tender regard and enthusias
tic devotion due to superior mind and intellect, than the follow
ing extract from a letter of lord Bolingbroke's to Swift (October
23, 1716):-"It is a very great truth. that, among all the losses
which I have sustained. none affected me more sensibly than
that of your company and correspondence. Your letter breathes
the same spirit as your conversation at all times inspired, even
when the occasions of practising the severest rules of virtuous
fortitude seemed most remote. Adieu, dear friend; may the
kindest influence of Heaven be shed upon you. Whether we
may ever meet again, that Heaven only knows—if we do, what
millions of things shall we have to talk over : Ja the mean
while, believe that nothing sits so near my heart as my country
and my friends, and that among these you ever had and ever
shall have a principal place."
xlviii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
cumstance of having been early brought into contact
with the superior power of Swift's intellectual and
fascinating conversation. The manner in which
Miss Vanhomrigh's affection for Swift (the fifth in
the strange eventful history of his love affairs) sprung
up, bore almost an unvarying resemblance to the
preceding; the attachment like the intercourse with
the family was gradual and slow, unintended, un-
expected, perhaps without either weakness or pre-
meditation on either side; and rather springing out
of circumstances and a certain unhappy fatality than
from the fault or even acknowledged volition of
the too unfortunate lovers; for the passion of Va-
nessa undoubtedly gave rise to corresponding decla-
rations at least upon the side of Cadenus. Swift
was probably not aware of the existence of so
devoted a love on the part of Vanessa until it be-
came irremediable, and too late for either to retract.
In 1714 her mother died; and having some property
in Ireland, and listening at the same time to the
dictates of her love, she followed Swift into Ireland.
He sought by every means to change her purpose,
and her arrival was a source of deep anxiety to him.
There was nothing he more dreaded than that the
knowledge of her being in Dublin, or his visiting
her there, should transpire. It would be idle to
attempt to disguise the truth, that throughout the
whole of this most unhappy affair Swift is thought
to have acted with a degree of harshness and cruelty
which, though very probably intended to promote
the ultimate peace and happiness of both, by restrain-
ing or turning into another direction the stream of
her affections, at once sensitive and impetuous,
was followed by sudden and fatal results. It will
here be most interesting to give those passages from
the mutual correspondence which seem to throw
light upon the progress and character of their inti-
macy, to follow it to the close, and to dismiss it as
we should some painful and unhappy casualty from
our sorrowing recollection. In most of her early
letters she anxiously importunes the object of all her
hopes and her fears for a reply; and in the whole
correspondence she displays high talent, the most
amiable temper, combined with an enthusiastic de-
sire to please the object of her heart's devotion.
By a full and impartial representation of facts the
public will be enabled to judge how far the strictures
passed upon the dean's conduct, with relation to this
unhappy affair, by those critical tribunals which so
much influence public opinion, are founded in
truth.
If correct in their accusations that the dean
made use of the slightest artifice or premeditation in
gaining the lady's affections, they must convict him.
of having uttered the most gross and palpable un-
truths. Of these the person most interested, to whom
they were addressed, would have been happy to
show the fallacy, if Swift had been bold enough
to advance assertions so utterly unfounded, or had
entertained the slightest suspicion of her early
passion, or the most remote idea of addressing her
except in language of the strictest propriety and pa-
ternal regard, until the fatal declaration of her un-
alterable love, when there is not the least proof that
he ever sought, though he returned it. Had he been
to blame, or committed himself in any particular, the
lady was too deeply interested not to have taken ad-
vantage of the circumstance; whereas she never
once throws the shadow of a reproach upon his per-
fect frankness, openness, and truth, far from consider-
ing him in a moral view at all responsible for the suf-
ferings she had so unwittingly incurred. Would he
have dared to attest his perfect guilelessness, as
ne did in his poem of "Cadenus and Vanessa," when
the lady and the lady's friends might easily have ex-
posed his treachery and falsehood, had he assumed
any other character than that of a maturely aged
tutor and friend of her family? Would she nowhere
in her letters, in passages where she gives way both
to passion and indignant feeling, have reproached
him with the falsehood of words, which attested his
conscious innocence, like the following?—
"His thought had wholly been confined
To form and cultivate her mind;
He hardly knew till he was told
Whether the nymph were young or old;
Had at her in a public place
Without distinguishing her face;
Much less could his declining age
Vanessa's earliest thoughts engage;
And, if her youth indifference met,
His person must contempt beget:
Or, grant her passion be sincere,
How shall his innocence be clear?
Appearances were all so strong,
The world must think lum in the wrong;
Would say he made a treacherous use
Of wit to flatter and seduce.
The town would swear he had betray'd
By magic spells the harmless maid;
And every beau would have his jokes,
That scholars were like other folks;
And when Platonic flights were over
The tutor turn'd a mortal lover!
So tender of the young and fair!
It show'd a true paternal care:-
Five thousand guineas in her purse!
The doctor might have fancied worse.'
Swift appears here to have stated the case as it oc-
curred, or he would not have ventured to have
spoken so directly to the point; while, at the same
time, his sagacity pointed out the unfavourable con-
struction which, under circumstances so peculiar,
might and would be put upon his motives and con-
duct. In this respect it appears to us that the
poem, so admirably conceived and executed, was not
written solely as a peace-offering or compliment to
the charms of the complaining lady, but as a record
of the facts and circumstances of the case as they
really occurred; a fair statement of the blame or re-
sponsibility to which he was exposed, and containing
his just vindication in a bold appeal to posterity,-
for the author must have felt the poem would live,
-which the party for whom it was written, were it
not true, might have covered with infamy and con-
tempt.
tempt. In his entire correspondence he displays
the same open fearless reliance upon the rectitude
of his motives and his conduct, and it is evident that,
while he soothes and compassionates her, he feels
that she has no claim or tie upon him whatever;
nor does she insinuate one fault but the want of a
passionate return of her misplaced affection; for
Swift was then infirm, suffering both in mind and
body, and fast declining into the vale of
years. Va-
nessa's passion therefore ought to be regarded, not
as that of a young woman whose affections had been
sought and then spurned by her equal in years and
rank, but as an instance of that peculiar class which
by some fatality fixes its views upon one object,
while that object itself is wholly unconscious of what
is passing in the other's mind. Swift doubtless felt
himself very much in the situation of a man who re-
ceives a love-letter or a valentine from an anony-
mous hand; and, if we are to credit the story as told
to the lady herself, was not bound to feel any more
responsibility than for such a declaration—which he
also really received-from an unknown hand.
thing can possibly be farther from the tone of real
love or tenderness than that in which Swift addresses
miss Vanhomrigh in those letters upon which so
much stress has been laid, dating from the beginning
of August, 1712. It is curious too that he never
once made use of the word "dear," addressed to so
many commoner friends: for which she rallied
No-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
xlix
him, and expressed a sort of jealousy, wnich did not
however induce him to make the slightest altera-
tion; and he preserves the formal address "To Mrs.
Hester Vanhomrigh, jun., at her lodgings over
against Park-place, in St. James's-street, London."
The following appears to have been written from
Windsor, while he was engaged in the heat of party
politics, and passing the life at once of a politician,
a writer, and a social wit:-"I thought to have
written to little Missessy by the colonel, but at last
I did not approve him as a messenger. Mr. Ford
began your health last night under the name of the
Jilt, for which I desire you will reproach him. I do
neither study nor exercise so much here as I do in
town.
The colonel [Vanessa's brother] will inter-
cept all the news I have to tell you, of my fine snuff-
box [presented by general Hill], and my being at a
ball, and my losing my money at ombre with the
duke and duchess of Shrewsbury. I cannot imagine
how you pass your time in our absence, unless by
lying a-bed till twelve, and then having your fol-
lowers about you till dinner, We have despatches
to-day from lord Bolingbroke [at Paris]; all is ad-
mirably well, and a cessation of arms will be declared
with France in London on Tuesday next. I dined
with the duke of Shrewsbury to-day and sat an hour
by Mrs. Warburton, teaching her when she played
wrong at ombre, and I cannot see her defects; either
my eyes fail me or they are partial.
Touchet is an ugly awkward slut. What do you do
all the afternoon? How came you to make it a se-
cret to me that you all designed to come to Windsor?
If
But Mrs.
you were never here, I think you all cannot do
better than come for three or four days; five pounds
will maintain you and pay for your coach backwards
and forwards. I suppose the captain will go down
with you now for want of better company. I will
steal to town one of these days and catch you nap-
ping. I desire you and Moll [Vanessa's sister] will
walk as often as you can in the park, and do not sit
moping at home-you that can neither work, nor
read, nor play, nor care for company. I long to
drink a dish of coffee in the sluttery, and hear you
dun me for Secrete, and Drink your coffee-why
Drink your coffee-why
don't
you drink
coffee?'
your
My humble service
to your mother, and Moll, and the colonel. Adieu."
In the following, likewise, instead of using any
endearing epithets or adopting the least affectionate
tone, the whole tenor of the letter is as opposite as
can well be conceived to that addressed by a lover
to the object of his regard. "Miss Hessy," he be-
gins, "is not to believe a word Mr. Lewis says in
his letter" (it is written from his friend Lewis's
office). “I would have writ to you sooner, if I had
not been busy and idle and out of humour, and did
not know how to send it to you without the help of
Mr. Lewis, my mortal enemy. I am so weary of
this place that I am resolved to leave it in two days,
and not return in three weeks. I will come as early
on Monday as I can find opportunity, and will take
a little Grub-street lodging, pretty near where I did
before, and dine with you thrice a-week, and will
tell you a thousand secrets, provided you will have
no quarrels with me. Adieu."
In the next (also without date) Swift seems to
allude to the difficulties in which the family of Mrs.
Vanhomrigh was placed by the sudden death of the
father, although possessed of considerable property,
subjected as it was to litigation, and of an estate in
Ireland. Swift would have dissuaded them from
going to Oxford, owing to the risk, we are to infer,
of being seen by some parties who had claims upon
them. This letter has not a single introductory epi-
'het, and commences in the most unloving and busi-
!
ness-like manner. "I did not forget the coffee, for
I thought you should not be robbed of it. John does
not go to Oxford, so I send back the book as you de-
sire. I would not see you for a thousand pounds if
I could; but I am now in my nightgown writing a
dozen letters and packing up papers. Why then,
you should not have come, and I know that as well
as you.
"My service to your mother; I doubt you do
wrong to go to Oxford; but now that is past, since
you cannot be in London to-night; and if you do
not inquire for acquaintance, but let somebody in the
inn
g9 about with you among the colleges, perhaps
you will not be known. Adieu."
Swift, it is evident, was consulted by the Vanhom-
righs with regard to their affairs in the most confi-
dential manner, and it is this which gives to his let-
ters so matter-of fact and so familiar a tone, address-
ing, as he invariably
ing, as he invariably does, each member of the
as if he
household in the same free and jocose style
himself formed one of the family. "I have writ
the
up
three or four lies in as many lines. Pray seal
letter to Mr. Long and let nobody read it but your-
self. I suppose this packet will lie two or three
hours till you awake. And pray let the outside
starched letter to you be seen, after you have sealed
that to Mrs. Long. See what arts people must use"
that to Mrs. Long.
(alluding to the embarrassed circumstances of the
party), though they mean ever so well. Now are
you and Puppy lying at your ease without dreaming
anything of all this."
The following appears to have been addressed by
the lady to the dean when at Windsor, and displays
both grace and wit in her happy manner of rallying
him on his silence and his too evident indifference:
-“ Had I,” she observes (London, Sept. 1, 1712),
"a correspondent in China, I might have had an
I never could think till now
answer by this time.
that London was so far off in your thoughts, and
that twenty miles were by your computation equal
to some thousands. I thought it a piece of charity
to undeceive you on this point, and to let you know,
if you give yourself the trouble to write, I may pro-
bably receive your letter in a day; it was that made
me venture to take pen in band the third time.
Sure you'll not let it be to no purpose.
You must
needs be extremely happy where you are, to forget
your absent friends; and I believe you have formed
a new system, and think there is no more of this
world passing your sensible horizon. If this be your
notion I must excuse you; if not, you can plead no
other excuse; and if it be, sir, I must reckon myself
of another world; but I shall have much ado to be
persuaded till you send me some convincing argu-
ments of it. Don't dally in a thing of this conse-
quence, but demonstrate 'tis possible to keep up a
correspondence between friends, though in different
worlds, and assure one another, as I do that I
am your most obedient and humble servant,
"E. VANHOMRIGH."
you,
In pursuance of the example doubtless set by Swift,
the lady here adopts the same distant terms both in
the opening and close of her letter; and it will appear
how soon she felt the restraint and pain of this cold
and distant manner, and in vain attempted to throw
the spell of more endearing epithets over the cold
and provoking manner of the dean. "Mr. Lewis
tells me," she continues (Sept. 2nd, 1712), “that you
have made a solemn resolution to leave Windsor the
moment we come there; 'tis a noble resolution, and
pray keep to it. Now, that I may be no ways acces-
sory to your breaking it, I design to send Mr. Lewis
word to a minute when we shall leave London, and
if there be a by-way you had better take it, for I
1
LIFE AND WORKS OF
very much apprehend that seeing us will make you
break through all, at least I am sure it would make
you heartily repent; and I would not for the world,
could I avoid it, give any uneasiness or this score,
because I must infallibly upon another. For when
Mr. Lewis told me what you had done (which I
must needs say was not in so soft a manner as he
ought, both out of friendship to you and compassion
to me), I immediately swore that to be avenged of
you I would stay in Windsor as long as Mrs. H -e
did; and if that was not long enough to tease you, I
would follow her to Hampton-court; and then I should
see which will give you most vexation-seeing me
but sometimes or not seeing her at all. Besides, Mr.
Lewis has promised me to intercept all your letters
to her, and hers to you; at least he says I shall read
them en passant; and for sealing them again, let him
look to that. I think your ruin is amply contrived,
for which don't blame me but yourself, for 'twas your
rashness prompted to this malice, which I should never
else have thought of,'
"
To this spirited epistle the dean replied next day
from Windsor castle, with the addition of a fine
haunch of venison sent to the lady's mother, in his
usual bantering style. "I send this haunch of veni-
son to your mother, not to you, and this letter to you,
not to your mother. I had
I had your last and your bill,
and know your reasons. I have ordered Barber to
send you the overplus sealed up: I am full of busi-
ness [about his preferment] and ill-humour. Some
end or other shall be put to both. I thought you
would have been here yesterday is your journey
hither quite off? I hope Moll is recovered of her ill-
ness, and then you may come. Have you 'scaped
your share in this new fever? I have hitherto, though
of late I am not well in my head. You rally very
well; Mr. Lewis allows you to do so.
I read your
letter to him. I have not time to answer, the coach
and venison being just ready to go.
"Pray eat half an ounce at least of the venison, and
present my humble service to your mother, Moll, and
the colonel. I had his letter, and will talk to him
about it when he comes. This letter I doubt will
smell of the venison. I wish the hang-dog coach-
man may not spoil the haunch in the carriage."
Previous to setting out for Ireland to take possession
of his new preferment, Swift again addressed to her
the following letter, full of acknowledgments for the
attentions he had received both from herself and the
lady's family:-"I promised to write to you, and I
have, to let you know that it is impossible for any
body to have more acknowledgments at heart for all
your kindness and generosity to me. I hope this
journey will restore my health. I will ride but little
every day, and I will write a common letter to you
all from some of my stages, but directed to you. I
could not get here till ten this night. Pray be merry
and eat and walk, and be good; and send me your
commands, whatever Mr. L. shall think proper to ad-
vise you.
you. I have hardly time to put my pen to paper,
but I would make good my promise. Pray God pre-
serve you and make you happy and easy; and so
adieu."
From Chester upon his way to Ireland Swift
again writes to the lady s mother (humorously ad-
dressed to "Madam Van, at the sign of the Three
Widows, in Pom-roy-alley, with care and speed"
June 6, 1713); and his letter contains perhaps rather
more of a loving and affectionate character than any
we have seen addressed to her daughter, while he at
least allows her the distant and dignified epithet of
madam :-"You heard of me from Dunstable by the
way of Hessy. I have had a sad time since. If Moll's
even s had been there, she would have none left.
44
Now Hessy grumbles that I talk of Moll. I have
resolved upon the direction of my letter already, for
I reckon Hessy and Moll are widows as well as you,
or at least half-widows. Davila [the historian goes
off rarely now. I have often wished for a little of
your ratsbane [coffee]; what I met on the road does
not deserve the name of ratsbane. I have told Mr.
Lewis the circumstances of my journey; and the
curious may consult him upon it. Who will Hessy
get now to chide, or Moll to tell her stories and bring
her sugar-plums? We never value anything enough
till we want it. I design to send Hessy a letter in
print from Ireland, because she cannot read writing-
hand except from Mr. Partington. I hope you have
heard again from the colonel, and that he is fully
cured of I don't know what, I forget. It was
under cover to Mr. Lewis that I wrote to you from
Dunstable; I writ to Hessy by Barber from St.
Alban's. I left London without taking leave of sir
John. I fear a person of his civility will never pardon
me. I met no adventures in all my travels, only
my horse fell under me, for which reason I will not
ride him to Holyhead, I can assure him that. I
could not see any marks in the chimney at Dunstable
of the coffee Hessy spilt there; and I had no dia-
mond ring about me to write any of your names in
the windows. But I saw written dearest ludy Betty
Hamilton, and hard by Middleton Walker, whom I
take to be an Irish man-midwife, which was a plain
omen of her getting a husband. I hear Moor, the
handsome parson, came over with the archbishop of
Dublin. Did he not marry one Mrs. Devenesh?
Lord Lanesborough has been here lately on his way
to Ireland, and has got the good will of all the folks
in our town. He had something to say to every little
boy he met in the streets. Well, he is the courteous-
est man, and nothing is so fine in the quality as to be
courteous. Now Moll laughs because I speak wisely,
and now Hessy murmurs again. Well, I had a
charming handsome cousin here twenty years ago.
I was to see her to-night, and in my conscience she
is not handsome at all; I wonder how it comes
about; but she is very good natured, and you know,
Moll, good nature is better than beauty. I desire
you will let me know what fellows Hessy has got to
come to her bedside in a morning (a custom with
French ladies), and when you design again to hobble
to Chelsea, if you did not tell me a lie as I much
suspect. My head is something better, though not
so well as I expected, by my journey. I think I have
said enough for a poor weary traveller.
I will con-
clude without ceremony and go to bed.
And if you
cannot guess who is the writer, consult your pillow,
and the first fine gentleman you dream of is the man.
So adieu.'
It would appear that, on the same day (June 6,
1713) when this amusing epistle was penned, Va-
nessa was engaged in replying to one of his former
letters to herself, still preserving the formal address of
"sir."
It
"SIR,-Now you are good beyond expression in
sending me that dear voluntary from St. Alban's.
gives me more happiness than you can imagine, or I
describe, to find that your head is so much better
already. I do assure you all my wishes are em-
ployed for the coutinuance of it. I hope the next
will tell me they have been of force. Had I the
power I want, every day that did not add as much
to your health till it was quite established as Mon-
day last should be struck out of the calendar us use-
less ones. I believe you little thought to have been
teased by me so soon; but when Mr. Lewis told me
if I would write to you that he would take care of
my letter, I must needs own that I had not self-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
denial enough to forbear. Pray, why did not you
remember me at Dunstable, as well as Moll? Lord!
what a monster is Moll grown since. But nothing
of poor Hess, except that the mark will be in the
same place of Davila where you left it. Indeed, it
is not much advanced yet, for I have been studying
of Rochefoucault, to see if he described as much of
love as I found in myself a Sunday, and I find he
falls very short of it. How does Bolingbroke
[Swift's horse] perform? You have not kept your
promise of riding but a little every day; thirty miles
I take to be a very great journey. I am very in-
patient to hear from you at Chester. It is impos-
sible to tell you how often I have wished you a cup
of coffee and an orange at your inn."
The depth and sincerity of Vanessa's affection are
manifest in this letter; and it is equally evident,
from the following written the same month, that her
passion augmented instead of decreasing in the ab-
sence of its object. It possesses all the interest and
pathos of the most touching drama :-
"It is inexpressible the concern I am in ever since
I heard from Mr. Lewis that your head is so much
out of order. Who is your physician?
For God's
sake don't be persuaded to take many slops. Satisfy
me so much as to tell me what medicines you have
taken and do take. How did you find yourself while
a-shipboard? I fear it is your voyage that has dis-
composed you; and then so much business follow-
ing immediately before you had time to recruit; it
was quite too much. I beg you to make all the
haste imaginable to the country, for I firmly believe
that air and rest will do you more good than any-
thing in the world besides. If I talk impertinently
I know you have goodness enough to forgive me
when you consider what an ease it is to me to ask
these questions, though I know it will be a great
while before I can be answered; I am sure I shall
think it so. Oh! what would I give to know how
you do at this instant! My fortune is too hard;
your absence was enough without this cruel addi-
tion. Sure the powers above are envious of your
thinking so well, which makes them sometimes
strive to interrupt you; but I must confine my
thoughts, or at least stop from telling them to you, or
you may chide, which will still add to my uneasiness.
I have done all that was possible to hinder myself
from writing to you till I heard you were better, for
fear of breaking my promise; but it is all in vain;
for had I vowed neither to touch pen, ink, or paper,
I certainly should have had some other invention;
therefore I beg you won't be angry with me for
doing what is not in my power to avoid. Pray make
Parvisol write me word what I desire to know, for
I would not for the world have you hold down your
head. I am impatient to the last degree to hear
how you are. I hope I shall soon have you here.”
The intense anxiety expressed in this letter shows
how greatly the one pervading sentiment which ab-
sorbed all other cares and affections had altered the
former happy and rallying humour of Swift's fair
correspondent; and he must have been struck with
grief and apprehension at the evidence of deep in-
creasing passion and the fatal tendency which it be-
tokened to one or both the parties interested in the
sequel. And from whatever cause derived, wretch-
edness, indignation (the sæva indignatio which he
had fixed over his grave), and sad unavailing regret,
must have torn his inmost heart that he could not
return and prove himself worthy of so charming a
being's love, so unalterably enthusiastic and de-
voted to him alone. |
With what heartfelt delight
she hails the symptoms of his returning health, and
proves the truth of that observation pronounced by
|
Swift himself to be correct, that in woman love al-
most invariably begets desire, while in man it is the
opposite-desire most frequently gives rise to love!
For though not a word escaped him, many circum-
stances combine to show that Vanessa was secretly
beloved, and that the previous acquaintance with
Stella, and perhaps some other unknown obstacle,
stood in the way. The following letter affords a de-
cided proof that she felt the truth of this, and that,
had Swift been a man free to act and likely to give
way to the dictates of passion in opposition to the
sense of stern duty and obligation, he would have
been only too happy to possess the treasure of a love
at once so pure and ardent as almost instantaneously
to destroy its victim, when she felt that she had in-
curred his severe displeasure. He must have been
more or less than man to have read it without
feelings of the deepest grief, tenderness. and grati-
tude; and, as he truly states in his beautiful poem on
the subject,-
"Cadenus felt within him rise
Shame, disappointm n, guilt, surprize;
He knew not how to reconcile
Such language with her usual style:
And yet her words were so express'd.
He could not hope she spoke in jest."
And though it is evident that towards the close of
her fatal passion he loved and even adored her per-
fections, if we are to believe his own words, and
that his nature indeed was capable of love resem-
bling hers, he yet in the outset had not the remotest
idea of becoming an object of so passionate a de-
votion of heart and soul :-
"She fancies music in ins tongue;
Nor further looks, but thinks him young.
What mariner is not afraid
To venture in a ship decay'd
What planter will attempt to yoke
A sapling with a falling oak?
As years increase she brighter shines;
Cadenus with each day declines;
And he must fall a prey to time,
While she continues in her prime.
Cadenus, common forms apart,
In every scene had kept his heart;
Had sigh'd and languish'd, vow'd and writ,
For pastime, or to show his wit;
But books and time and state affairs
Had spoil'd his fashionable airs ;
He now could praise, esteem, approve,
But understood not what was love."
And especially the following lines, if we may give
him credit for a sincerity he dare hardly have as-
sumed could the lady have convicted him of guilt,
exhibit his most triumphant defence, and the best
refutation of the calumnies heaped upon him by
his political enemies up to the present day :-
"His conduct might have made him styled
A father and the nymph his child.
That innocent delight he took
To see the virgin mind her book,
Was but the master's secret joy
In school to hear the finest boy.”
This is not saying much for love; and nothing to
promise a favourable termination to their acquaint-
ance, such as Vanessa sighed for.
"Mr. Lewis," she resumes (June, 1713) "assures
me that you are now well, but will not tell me what
authority he has for it. I hope he is rightly in-
formed; though it is not my usual custom when a
thing of consequence is in doubt to fix on what I
earnestly wish. But I have already suffered so much
by knowing that you were ill, and fearing that you
were worse than you have been, that I will strive to
change that thought, if possible, that I may have a
little ease, and more—that I may not write you a
splenetic letter. Pray, why would you not make
Parvisol write me word how you did, when I begged
it so much? And if you were able yourself, how
Lii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
>
could you be so cruel to defer telling me the thing
which I wished of all the most to know? If you
think I write too often, your only way is to tell me
so, or at least to write to me again that I may know
you don't quite forget me; for I very much fear
that I never employ a thought of yours now except
when you are reading my letters, which makes me
ply you with them (Mr. Lewis complains of you
too). If you are very happy, it is ill-natured of you
not to tell me so; except it is what is inconsistent
with mine [alluding to Stella]. But why don't you
talk to me that you know will please me? I have
often heard you say that you would willingly suffer
a little uneasiness, provided it gave another a vast
deal of pleasure. Pray, remember this maxim, be-
cause it makes for me. Pray, let me know when
you design coming over [June, 1713]; for I must
beg you to talk to Mr. P. and settle some affairs for
me. Pray, let me hear from you soon, which will
be an inexpressible joy to her that is always
we meet.
I
The unfortunate lady soon makes more earnest
complaints of hearing from him so seldom :-" Here
is now three long weeks passed since you wrote to
me. Oh! happy Dublin, that can employ all your
thoughts; and happy Mrs. Emerson, that could hear
from you the moment you landed. Had it not been
for her I should be yet more uneasy than I am.
really believe before you leave Ireland I shall give
you just reason to wish I did not know my letters,
or at least that I could not write; and I had rather
you should wish so than entirely forget me. Con-
fess, have you once thought of me since you wrote
to my mother at Chester? which letter I assure you
I take very ill. My mother and I have counted the
Molls and the Hessys; it is true the number is
equal, but you talk to Moll, and only say 'now
Hessy grumbles.' How can you indeed possibly be
so ill-natured to make me either quarrel or grumble,
when you are at so great a distance that it is impos-
sible for me to gain by doing so? Besides, you
proposed that the letter should be directed to me;
but I'll say no more of this, but keep my temper till
Pray, have you answered the letter I
wrote you to Chester? I hear you had a very quick
passage. I hope it was a pleasant one, and that you
have no reason to complain of your health.
We
have had a vast deal of thunder for this week past.
I am sure
I wish you had been here last Thursday;
you could have prevented the bills from being lost.”
The last passage, we may here observe, affords
strong collateral evidence of the high estimation in
which Swift's political influence was held at that
period;-that bills containing articles of the treaty
of commerce with France, so important to the credit
of the Tory ministry, might owe their fate to the tact
and talent of a single individual, and that individual
not a member of the commons' house. And other
passages of Swift's correspondence tend to confirm
the lady's view of the case. "Are not you," she
continues, " prodigiously surprised at sir Thomas
Hanmer and lord Anglesey [going over to the
Whigs]? Lord! how much we differ from the
ancients, who used to sacrifice everything for the
good of the commonwealth; but now our greatest
men will at any time give up their country out of
pique, and that for nothing. It is impossible to
conceive the rejoicings that are among the Whigs
since that day, and 1 fear the elections will add to
them. Lord-treasurer has been extremely to blame.
for all his friends advised him to let it be dropped by
consent till next session; but, depending on the
same success he had on the malt-tax, he would not
do it.
I know you'll say, What does the slut mean
to talk all this stuff to me? If I was there I had
|
|
as lieve hear it as anything they could say; but to
pursue me with your nonsense is intolerable. I'll
read no more.-Will! go to the post-office and see
if there be more letters for me? What, will this
packet only serve to teaze me?' I can tell you
you'll have none from lady Orkney by the post,
whatever you may have by any other carriage. I
have strictly observed your commands as to reading
and walking. Mr. Ford can witness the latter, for
he has paddled with us several nights. I have a
vast deal to tell you about him when I see you.
Mr. Lewis has given me the Dialogues des Morts;
and I am so charmed with them that I am resolved
to quit my body, let the consequence be what it will,
except you will talk to me; for I find no conversa-
tion on earth comparable to yours; so if you care
I should stay on earth, do but talk, and you will
keep me with pleasure."
Poor Vanessa appears to have had just reason to
complain of Swift's silence and apparent indifference,
an interval of upwards of a year now occurring in
their correspondence. Yet he says when residing
in Berkshire (June, 1714),—" You see I am better
than my word, and write to you before I have been
a week settled in the house where I am ;" and after
describing his quiet mode of life already alluded to,
he concludes with hoping that she is in good health
and humour, and desiring his service to Moll, keep-
ing to the last what he doubtless esteemed most
important,-the assurance that his cold was quite
gone. Again he writes the ensuing month (July,
1714),—“I find you take heavily that touch upon
your shoulder [threatened arrest]. I would not
have writ to you so soon if it were not to tell you
that, if you want to borrow any money, I would have
you to send to Mr. Barber, or Ben Tooke, which you
please, and let them know it, and the sum, and that
I will stand bound for it and send them my bond.
I did not know our posts went on Tuesday, else I
would have writ two days ago to tell you this. I
do not see how you can be uneasy when the year is
out; for you can pay only what you receive you
are answerable for no more, and I suppose you have
not given bonds to pay your mother's debts. As for
your 27. 5s. that you gave your note for, if that
be all, it is a trifle, and your owning it with so much
apology looks affected. If you have no more secret
debts than that, I shall be glad. But still I cannot
understand how any of those creditors of your
mother can give you any trouble, unless there be
some circumstances that I do not know the bottom
of. I believe I shall not stay here [Upper Selcomb,
Wantage] much longer, and therefore, if you wish to
borrow money,
borrow money, I would have you do it soon, and
of the two rather of Ben Tooke; because I have just
drawn a note upon Barber for thirty guineas for my
own expenses. I believe a bond had better be
sent to me down to sign; and I will send it back to
you, and you may give it Ben. You may speak
freely to Ben of this, and if he has no money by
him we must apply to Barber. I am forced to con-
clude in haste, because the post-house is two miles
off, and it will be late if I stay longer. Adieu. My
service to Molkin.”
The real kindness and liberality of Swift's dispo-
sition are here apparent, though he affects to conceal
the interest he feels under the guise of indifference
and a business-like attention to the details of the
affair. When Vanessa followed him to Ireland, and,
in going to take possession of her property, fixed
her temporary residence in Dublin, the dean's alarm
and vexation are too strong to be repressed, and he
is in evident dread of becoming compromised by
some indiscretion on the lady's side. This is the
JONATHAN SWIFT.
liüi
only excuse that can be offered for the hasty and
almost brutal language contained in some of his
letters; and that dated from Philipstown (Nov. 5,
1714) seems to have been written under an impres-
sion of some impending disaster (addressed to Mrs.
Vanhomrigh, at her lodgings, Turnstile-alley, near
College-green, Dublin)." I met your servant when
I was a mile from Trim, and could send him no
other answer than I did, for I was going abroad by
appointment; besides, I would not have gone to
Kildrohod (the Irish name of Cellbridge, her estate)
to see you for all the world. I ever told you, you
wanted discretion. I am going to a friend upon a pro-
mise, and shall stay with him about a fortnight, and
then come to town, and I will call upon you as soon
as I can, supposing you lodge in Turnstile-alley, as
your servant told me, and that your neighbours can
tell me whereabouts. Your servant said you would
be in town on Monday, so that I suppose this will
be ready to welcome you there. I fear you had a
journey full of fatigues. Pray take care of your
health in this Irish air, to which you are a stranger.
Does not Dublin look very dirty to you, and the
country very miserable? Is Kildrohod as beautiful
as Windsor, and as agreeable to you as the prebend's
lodgings there? Is there any walk about you as
pleasant as the avenue and the Marlborough-lodge?
Ï have ridden a tedious journey to-day, and can say
no more. Nor shall you know where I am till I
come; and then I will see you. A fig for
A fig for your let-
ters and messages. Adieu."
I am
Vanessa having replied in a strain of grief and
affliction bordering upon despair, Swift wrote in a
more subdued and softened tone, evidently in still
greater alarm at what might next occur:-" I will
see you in a day or two," he says; " and believe
me it goes to my soul not to see you oftener. I will
give you the best advice, countenance, and assistance
I can. I would have been with you sooner if a
thousand impediments had not prevented me. I did
not imagine you had been under difficulties.
sure my
whole fortune should go to remove them.
I cannot see you, I fear, to-day, having affairs of
my place to do; but pray think it not want of
friendship or tenderness, which I will always con-
tinue to the utmost. With how much pleasure
Vanessa received any approaches to a milder
and more affectionate spirit, like these, in him
she loved, may be inferred from the buoyant and
joyous character of her next letter:-"Is it pos-
sible that again you will do the very same thing
I warned you of so lately? I believe you thought
I only rallied when I told you the other night
that I would pester you with letters. Did not I
know you very well I should think you knew but
little of the world to imagine that a woman would
not keep her word whenever she promised anything
that was malicious. Had you not better a thousand
times throw away one hour at some time or other of
the day than to be interrupted in your business at
this rate for I know it is quite impossible for you
to burn my letters without reading them, as it is for
me to avoid reproving you when you behave your-
self wrong. Once more I advise you, if you have
any regard for your own quiet, to alter your beha-
viour, for I do assure you I have too much spirit
to sit down contented with this treatment. Because
I love frankness extremely I here tell you now that
I have determined to try all human arts to reclaim
you; and if all these fail I am resolved to have
recourse to the black one, which it is said never
does. . . . Pray think calmly of it! Is it not better
to come of yourself than to be brought by force, and
that perhaps at a time when you have the most
agreeable engagement in the world [alluding per-
}
1
more,
haps to Stella]; for when I undertake to do any
thing I don't love to do it by halves. But there is
one thing falls out very luckily for you, which is,
that of all the passions revenge hurries me least, so
that you have it yet in your power to turn all this
fury into good humour, and depend upon it and
I assure you. Come at what time you please,
you can never fail of being very well received.”a
The correspondence at this time seems to have
assumed a more gay and animated air, with less of
Swift
suspicion and jealousy on the lady's side.
expressed his admiration of her epistolary wit and
talent, and declared if she wrote so well he would
come the seldomer, on purpose to be pleased with
her letters, which he never looked into without
wondering how a brat who could not read (a jest)
could possibly write so well. The following has
much of the dean's earlier and more humorous spirit,
and there is no doubt that, had he been so happy as
to have continued the correspondence, and possessed
the society of Vanessa, and of minds like hers, he
would at once have chastened and elevated his fancy,
and escaped the corruption of his taste and the pros-
titution of his genius and talents to low-lived
ribaldry and the mean love of exposing the foibles
of his friends, in weaving doggrel rhymes and pieces,
and Latin nonsense, in competition with obse-
quious companions whose flatteries lulled his vanity
and betrayed him.
"I am now writing," he says, "on Wednesday
night, when you are hardly settled at home, and it
is the first hour of leisure I have had, and it may be
Saturday before you have it, and then there will be
governor Huff;b and to make you more so I bere
• It will not be "ninteresting here to subjoin to the narrative
of this romantic passion, without the least taint or alloy of
criminal desire, some poetical effusious from the peu of Van-
essa, who, as well as Stella, appears to have been endowed
with the Muses' inspiration no less than the loves and graces
pictured by the poets. The first of these is entitled "An Ode
to Spring:"-
Hail, blushing goddess, beauteous spring,
Who in thy jocund traiu doth bring
Loves and graces, smiling hours,
Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers;
Come, with tints of roseate hue,
Nature's faded charms renew.
Yet why should I thy presence hail?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with sweets; no more the roső
With such transcendaut beauty glows
As when Cadenus bless'd the scene,
And shared with me those joys serene;
When, unperceived, the lambent fire
Of triendship kindled new desire;
Still list'ning to his tuneful tongue;
The truths which angels might have sung
Divine impress'd their gentle sway,
And sweetly stole my soul away.
My guide, instructor, lover, friend,-
Dear names! in one idea blend;
Oh still conjoin'd your incense rise,
And waft sweet odour to the skies.
AN ODE TO WISDOM.
O PALLAS, I invoke thy aid:
Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid,
By tender love depress'd;
'Tis just that thou should'st heal the smart.
Inflicted by thy subtle art,
And calm my troubled breast.
No random shot trom Cupid's how,
But, by thy guidance soft and slow
It sunk within my heart.
Thus love being arm'd with wisdom's force
In vain I try to stop its course,
In vain repel the dart.
Oh goddess! break the fatal league;
Let love with folly and intrigue
More fit associates find!
And thou alone, within my breast,
Oh, deign to soothe my griefs to rest
And heal my tortured mind.
This expression refers to Vanessa's desire of having things
her own way,
liv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
enciose a letter to poor Molkin, which I will com-
mand her not to show you, because it is a love-letter.
I reckon by this time the groves and fields and purl-
ing streams have made Vanessa romantic, provided
poor Molkin be well. Your friend sent me the
verses he promised, which I here transcribe.
!
"
Nymph, would you learn the only art,
To keep a worthy lover's heart;
First, to adorn your person well,
In utmost cleanliness excel:
And though you must the fashions take,
Observe them but for tashion's sake:
The strongest reason will submit
To virtue, honour, sense, and wit:
To such a nymph, the wise and good
Cannot be faithless if they would;
For vices all have different ends,
But vn tue still to virue tends;
And when your lover is not true,
'Tis virtue fails in him or you:
And either he deserves disdain,
O you without a cause complain;
But here Vanessa cannot eir,
Nor are those rules applied to her;
For who could such a ymph forsake,
Except a blockhead or a rake?
Or how could she her heart bestow,
Except where wit and virtue grow ?
b
"In my opinion these lines are too grave, and
therefore may fit you, who I fear are in the spleen;
but that is not fit either for yourself or the person
you tend, to whom you ought to read diverting
things. Here is an epigram that concerns you not:-
"Dorinda dreams of dress a-bed,
'Tis all her thought and ait;
Her lace hath got within her head,
Her stays stick to her heart.
<
"If you do not like these things, what must I say?
This town yields no better. The questions which
you were used to ask me, you may suppose to be all
answered just as they used to be after half-an-hour's
debate; Entendez vous cela?' You are to have a
number of parsons in your neighbourhood, but not
one that you love, for your age of loving parsons is
not yet arrived. What this letter wants in length it
will have in difficulty, for I believe you cannot read
it. I will write plainer to Molkin, because she is
not much used to my hand. I hold a wager there
are some lines in this letter you will not understand,
though you can read them; so drink your coffee,
and remember you are a desperate chip, and that the
lady who calls you bastard will be ready to answer
all your questions. It is now Sunday night before
I could finish this.'
It is clear, from the following passage, that Swift
was very apprehensive of his correspondence with
Vanessa becoming generally known:-" Yesterday,"
he observes, "I was half-way towards you, where I
dined, and returned weary enough. I asked where
that road to the left led; and they named the place.
I wish your letters were as difficult as mine, for
then they would be of no consequence if they were
dropped by careless messengers. A stroke thus
|
}
letter 1 wrote you was obscure and constrained
enough. I took pains to write it after your manner;
it would have been much easier for me to have wrote
otherwise. I am not so unreasonable as to expect
you should keep your word to a day, but six or seven
days are great odds. Why should your apprehen-
sions for Molkin hinder you from writing to me?
I think you should have wrote the sooner to have
comforted me. Molkin is better, but in a very weak
way. Though those who saw me told you nothing
of my illness, I do assure you I was for twenty-four
hours as ill as 'twas possible to be, and live. You
wrong me when you say I did not find that you an-
swered my questions to my satisfaction; what I said
was, I had asked those questions as you bid, but
could not find them answered to my satisfaction.
How could they be answered in absence, since Som-
nus is not my friend?
friend? We have had a vast deal of
thunder and lightning;-where do you think I wished
to be then? and do you think that was the only time.
I wished so since I saw you? I am sorry ny jea-
lousy should hinder you from writing more love-
letters; for I must chide sometimes, and I wish I
could gain by it at this instant, as I have done and
hope to do. Is my dating my letter wrong the only
sign of my being in love? Pray tell me, did not you
80;
wish to come where that road to the left would have
led you? I am mightily pleased to hear you talk of
being in a huff; 'tis the first time you ever told me
I wish I could see you in one. I am now as
happy as I can be without seeing CAD. I beg
you will continue happiness to your owu Skinage."
The lady finds still more causes of dissatisfaction,
though yet to be informed of the dean's marriage
with Stella, which becomes more apparent as we
proceed:
— CAD,-I am, and cannot avoid being, in the
spleen to the last degree. Everything combines to
make me so. Is it not very hard to have so good a
fortune as I have, and yet no more command of that
fortune than if I had no title to it? One of the
D-rs is I don't know what to call him. He
behaved himself so abominably to me the other day,
that had I been a man he should have heard more
of it. In short, he does nothing but trifle and make
excuses. I really believe he heartily repents that
ever he undertook it, since he heard the counsel
first plead, finding his friend more in the wrong
than he imagined. Here am I obliged to stay in
this odious town, attending and losing my health
and humour. Yet this and all other disappoint-
ments in life I can bear with ease but that of being
neglected by Cad. He has often told me that
the best maxim in life, and always held by the wisest
in all ages, is to seize the moments as they fly, but
those happy moments always fly out of the reach of
the unfortunate. Pray tell Cad I don't re-
nieber any angry passages in my letter, and I am
very sorry if they appeared so to him. Spleen
cannot help, so you must excuse it. I do all I can
to get the better of it; and it is too strong for me.
I have read more since I saw Cad than I did in a
great while past, and chose those books that re-
most attention on purpose to engage my
thoughts; but I find the more I think the more
unhappy I am.
signifies everything that may be said to Cad
at the beginning or conclusion. It is I who ought
to be in a huff that anything written to Cad should
be dffiicult to Skinage. I must now break off ab-
ruplty, for I intend to send this letter to-day."quired
(August 4.)
In the following, however, Vanessa reiterates her
complaints of Swift's strange, harsh, and variable
conduct towards her. Her letter is dated, Cellbridge,
1720:-
“——————
CAD,-You are good beyond expression, and
I will never quarrel again if I can help it; but with
submission, 'tis you that are so hard to be pleased,
though you complain of me. I thought the last
a Swift himself, under the character of Cadenus.
b Her sister.
"I had once a mind not to have wrote to you for
fear of making you uneasy to find me so dull, but I
could not keep to that resolution for the pleasure of
writing to you. The satisfaction I have in your re-
membering me when you read my letters, and the
delight I have in expecting one from Cad,
makes me rather choose to give you some uncasi-
ness than to add to my own.
As we approach the termination of this strang
t
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lv
correspondence, the dean's wit and good nature,
damped by the unhappy circumstances in which he
was placed, appear by no means improved by age.
As early as 1720 he felt a sense of dulness creeping
upon him, which terminated in that utter idiocy and
insanity to which he had a decided tendency in his
retirement from politics and the disappointment of
his ambitious hopes; and it is only upon this sup-
position we can account for many discrepancies in
his language and conduct towards the unhappy ob-
jects who had, early or late, bestowed their affec-
tions upon him.
him. Unhappy in himself, it was not
likely he could confer happiness upon women of sus-
ceptible feelings and delicate tastes, and by exciting
their intellectual ambition, and by cultivating and ex-
panding their minds, he only added to their unhap-
piness with their knowledge, and made them less
contented with their lot. In the next letter there is
a want of the genuine spirit and humour we so much
admire in his earlier writings :-
TO MISS VANHOMRIGH.
"August 12, 1720.
"I apprehended on the return of the porter I sent
with my last letter that it would miscarry, because I
saw the rogue was drunk; but yours made me easy.
I must neither write to Molkin, nor not write to
her. You are like lord Pembroke, who would nei-
ther go nor stay. Glasheel talks of going to see
you, and taking me with him, as he goes to his
country-house. I find
I find you have company with you
these two or three days; I hope they are diverting,
at least to poor Molkin. Why should Cad's letters
be difficult? I assure you 's are not all.
I
I am vexed that the weather hinders you from
any pleasure in the country, because walking I be-
lieve would be of good use to you and Molkin.
reckon you will return a prodigious scholar, a most
admirable nurse-keeper, a perfect housewife, and a
great drinker of coffee.
"I have asked, and am assured there is not one
beech in all your groves to carve a name on, nor
purling stream, for love or money, except a great
river, which sometimes roars, but never murmurs,
just like governor Huff. We live here in a very
dull town, every valuable creature absent, and Cad
says he is weary of it, and would rather drink his
coffee on the barrenest mountain in Wales than be
king here.
A tig for partridges and quails;-
Ye danties, I know nothing of je;
But, on the highest mount in Wales,
Would choose in peace to drink my coffee.
and
And you know very well that coffee makes us se-
vere, and grave, and philosophical. What would
you give to have the history of Cd
exactly written through all its steps from the begin-
ning to this time?b I believe it would do well in
verse, and be as long as the other. I hope it will
be done. It ought to be an exact chronicle of
twelve years from
the time of spilling of
coffee to drinking of coffee; from Dunstable to
Dublin, with every single passage since.
"There would be the chapter of Madame going to
Kensington; the chapter of the blister; the chapter
of the colonel going to France; the chapter of the
wedding, with the adventures of the lost key; of
the sham; of the joyful return; two hundred chap-
ters of madness; the chapter of long walks; the;
Berkshire suprise; fifty chapters of little times; the
chapter of Chelsea; the chapter of swallow and
cluster; a hundred whole books of myself, &c.; the
chapter of lude and whisper; the chapter of who
• The Liffey.
The dean neve: "ompleted this second part of the poem.
J
made it so; my sister's money.
bids me
Cad
tell you that if you complain of difficult writing he
will give you enough of it. See how much I have
written without saying one word of Molkin; and
you will be whipped before you will deliver a mes-
I shall write to J. Barber next
sage with honour.
post, and desire him to be in no pain about his mo-
ney. I will take not one word of notice of his
If heaven had
riches, on purpose to vex him.
looked upon riches to be a valuable thing, it would
not have given them to such a scoundrel.ª I deli-
vered your letter enclosed to our friend, who hap-
pened to be with me when I received it.
I find you
are very much in his good grace, for he said a mii-
lion of fine things upon it, though he would let
nobody read a word of it but himself, though I was
so kind to show him yours to me, as well as this,
which he has laid a crown with me you will not un-
derstand, which is pretty odd for one that sets up for
I am ever,
so high an opinion of your good sense.
with the greatest truth, yours, &c.
August 13."
In proportion as Swift relents Vanessa's hopes
rise, and it is evidently her fond ambition to with-
draw him from the influence of Stella, being still
wholly unconscious of the marriage, and to bring
him to confess his love at her feet.
CC
FROM MISS VANHOMRIGH.
Cellbridge, 1720.
CAD, is it possible that you will come and
see me? I beg for God's sake you will; I would
give the world to see you here (and Molkin would
be extremely happy). Do you think the time long
since I saw you?
"I did design seeing you this week, but will not
stir, in hopes of your coming here. I beg you'll
1
write two or three words by the bearer, to let me
know if you think you'll come this week. I shall
have the note to-night. You make me happy be-
yond expression by your goodness. It would be too
much once to hope for such a history; if
you had
laid a thousand pounds that I should not understand
your letter, you had lost it. Tell me sincerely, did
those circumstances crowd on you, or did you recol-
lect them only to make me happy ?”
TO MISS VANHOMRIGH.
"Thursday morn, ten.
"I will see you to-morrow if possible. You
know it is not above five days since I saw you, and
that I would ten times more if it were at all conve-
nient, whether your Old Dragon come or no, whom
I believe my people cannot tell what to make of,
but take him for some conjuror. Adieu.'
The following passages in Swift's letters (Oct. 15,
1720) show the interest he took in Vanessa's affairs:
"I had a letter from your friend J. B. [John
Barber] in London, in answer to what I told you
that Glasheel said about the money. J. B.'s answer
is, that you are a person of honour; that you need
give yourself no trouble about it: that you will pay
when you are able, and he shall be content till then.
These are his own words, and you see he talks in
the style of a very rich man, which he says he yet
is, though terribly pulled down by the fall of stocks.
I am glad you did not sell your annuities unless
somebody were to manage and transfer them white
stocks were high." (Oct. 17th.) "I had not a mo-
ment to finish this since I sat down to it. A person
was with me just now, and interrupted me as I was
going on with telling me of great people here losing
a This remarkable sentiment is the sting of Arbuthnot's cele
brated epitaph on Chartres.
b C'adeuus
Ivi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
their places, and now some more are coming about
business. So adieu till by and by, or to-morrow.
(Oct. 18th.) “I am getting an ill head in this cursed
town for want of exercise. I wish I were to walk
with you fifty times about the garden, and then
drink your coffee. Glasheel takes up abundance of
my time in spite of my teeth. Everybody grows
ailly and disagreeable, or I grow monkish and sple-
netic, which is the same thing. I was sitting last
night with half a score of both sexes for an hour,
and grew as weary as a dog. Conversation is full of
nothing but South Sea, and the ruin of the kingdom,
and scarcity of money. I had a thousand times
rather hear the governor [Vanessa] chide two hours
without reason.'
The governor was
(Oct. 20.)
with me at six o'clock this morning, but did not
stay two minutes, and deserves a chiding, which you
must give when you drink your coffee next. I hope
to send this letter to-morrow. I am a good deal out
of order in my head, after a little journey I made;
ate too much I suppose, or travelling in a coach.
after it. I am now sitting at home alone, and will
go write to Molkins. So adieu."
FROM MISS VANHOMRIGH.
(<
Cellbridge, 1720.
"You had heard from me before, but that my
messenger was not to be had till to-day, and now I
have only time to thank you for yours, because he
was going about his business this moment, which is
very happy for you, or you would have had a long
letter full of spleen. Never was human creature
more distressed than I have been since I came.
Poor Molkin has had two or three relapses, and is in
so bad a way that I fear she will never recover.
Judge now what a way I am now in, absent from
you, and loaded with melancholy on her score.
have been very ill with a stitch in my side, which is
not very well yet."
TO MISS VANHOMRIGH
"Four o'clock.
I
"I dined with the provost, and told him I was
coming here, because I must be at prayers at six.
He said you have been with him, and would not be
at home this day, and went to Cellbridge to-morrow.
I said I could, however, go try. I fancy you told
him so, that he might not come to-night; if he
comes you must piece it up as you can, else he will
think it was on purpose to meet me, and I hate any-
thing that looks like a secret.
"I cannot possibly call after prayers: I therefore
came here in the afternoon while people were in
church, hoping certainly to find you. I am truly af-
fected for poor Moll, who is a girl of infinite value,
and I am sure you will take all possible care of her,
and I hope to live to see the sincerest friendship in
the world long between you. I pray God of heaven
protect you both, and am, entièrement."
TO MISS VANHOMRIGH.
"Monday.
Is
"I am surprised and grieved beyond what I can
express. I read your letter twice before I knew what
it meant, nor can I yet well believe my eyes.
that poor good creature dead?a I observed she
looked a little ghastly on Saturday, but it is against
the usual way for one in her case to die so sudden.
For God's sake get your friends about you to advise
and to order everything in the forms.
It is all you
have to do. I want comfort myself in this case, and
can give little. Time alone must give it you. No-
thing now is your part but decency. I was wholly
unprepared against so sudden an event, and pity you
most of all creatures at present."
• Miss Mary Vanhomrigh.
The death of Vanessa's sister, her increasing jea-
lousy and anxieties, with the growing infirmities of
the dean, and his forced residence in a place he
disliked, far from his early literary friendships and
political connexions, present altogether one of the
most melancholy pictures of human wretchedness
and vanity, notwithstanding the greatness of Swift's
reputation, that can
reputation, that can well be conceived.
Two
charming women, both of whom had riveted their
affections upon him, were sinking into their
early graves from unrequited love-a love to which
circumstances placed it out of his power to make
a due return. He again writes to the unhappy
victim of misplaced passion from Gallstown, near
"I an-
Kinnugad (July 5, 1721), and observes,
swer all your questions that you were used to
ask Cad, and he protests he answers them in the
affirmative. How go your law affairs? You were
once a good lawyer, but Cad hath spoiled you.
I had a weary journey in an Irish stage-coach, but
am pretty well since." To give the brief sequel of
this strange and mysterious connexion, on which it
is impossible now to throw any satisfactory light;
Swift writes to Vanessa from Clogher (June 1, 1722)--
"This is the first time I have set pen to paper since I
left Dublin, having not been in any settled place till
ten days ago; and I missed one post by ignorance,
and that has stopped me five days. Before that time
I was much out of order by the usual consequences
of wet weather and change of drink, neither am I
yet established, though much better than I was.
I answer all the questions you can ask
me in the affirmative. I remember your detesting
and despising the conversation of the world. I have
been so mortified with a man and his lady here two
days, that it has made me as pecvish as--(I want a
comparison). I hope you are gone or going to your
country-seat, though I think you have a term upon
your hands. I shall be here long enough to receive
your answer, and perhaps to write to you again, but
then I shall go farther off if my health continues,
and shall let you know my stages. I have been for
some days as splenetic as ever you was in your life,
which is a bold word. Remember I still enjoin you
reading and exercise for the improvement of your
mind and health of your body, and grow less ro-
mantic, and talk and act like a man of this world.
It is the saying of the world, and I believe you often
say, I love myself; but I am so low I cannot say it,
though your new acquaintance were with you,
which I heartily wish for the sake of you and myself.
Last year I writ you civilities and you
were angry, yet my thoughts were still the same;
and I give you leave to be governor, and will be an-
swerable for them. I hope you will let me have some
of
your money when I see you, which I will pay
honestly you again. Repondez moi si vous entendez
bien tout cela, et croyez que je serai toujours tout ce
que vous désirez." Adieu!
Swift appears about the period he wrote this letter
to have been journeying from place to place, and
collecting materials for those papers, some of which
he subsequently published, in conjunction with his
friend Sheridan, in the Intelligencer; and which
now for the first time make their appearance in any
collection of his works. His next is dated from
Loughgall, in the county of Armagh, and is highly
characteristic of the dean's character and peculiari.
ties under the circumstances in which he was placed.
"I have received yours, and have changed places so
often since, that I could not assign a place where I
might expect an answer from you, and if you be now
in the country and the letter does not reach you in
the due time after the date, I shall not expect to hear
JONATHAN SWIFT.
Ivii
I see
from you, because I leave this place the beginning of
August. I am well pleased with the account of
visit and the behaviour of the ladies.
Jour
every day as silly things among both sexes, and yet,
endure them for the sake of amusement. The worst
thing in you and me is, that we are too hard to please; |
and whether we have not made ourselves so is the
question; at least, I believe, we have the same rea-
One thing that I differ from you is, that I do
not quarrel with my best friends. I believe you
have ten angry passages in your letter, and every one
of them enough to spoil two days a-piece of riding
and walking. We differ prodigiously in one point;
son.
I Ay
very like those of baboons and monkeys; they all
grinned and chattered at the same time, and that
The rooms being
of things I did not understand.
hung with arras, in which were trees very well de-
scribed, just as I was considering their beauty and
one of
wishing myself in the country with
these animals snatched my fan, and was so pleased
with me that it seized me with such a panic that I
apprehended nothing less than being carried up to
the top of the house and served as a friend of yours
was, but in this one of their own species came
in, upon which they all began to make their grimaces,
which opportunity I took and made my escape.
have not made one single step in either law or refer-
ence since I saw you.
I doubt the bad weather
I meet with nothing but dis-
appointments, yet am obliged to stay in town attend-
ing Mr. P., &c., which is very hard. I do declare I
have so little joy in life that I don't care how soon
mine ends. For God's sake write me soon, and
kindly, for in your absence your letters are all the
joy I have on earth, and sure you are too good-natured
to grudge one hour in a week to make any human
creature happy. Cad, think of me and pity me."
from the spleen to the world's end; you run
out of the way to meet it.
has hindered you much from the diversions of your
country-house, and put you upon thinking in your
chamber. The use I have made of it was to read I
know not how many diverting books of history and
travels. I wish you would get yourself a horse and
have always two servants to attend you, and visit
your neighbours, the worse the better. There is a
pleasure in being reverenced, and that is always in
your power by your superiority of sense and an easy
fortune. The best maxim I know in life is to drink
your coffee when you can, and when you cannot to
be easy without it; while you continue to be sple-
netic, count upon it I will always preach. Thus
much I sympathize with you that I am not cheerful
enough to write, for I believe coffee once a-week
is necessary to that.
I have shifted scenes
oftener than ever I did in my life, and I believe have
lain in thirty beds since I left the town. I always
drew up the clothes with my left hand, which is a
superstition I have learnt these ten years. These
country posts are always so capricious that we are
forced to send our letters at a call on a sudden, and
mine is now demanded, though it goes not out till
to-morrow. Be cheerful, and read, and ride, and
laugh as Cad used to advise you long ago.
hope your affairs are in some better settlement.
do long to see you in figure and equipage: pray do
not lose that taste. Farewell!"
I
I
It appears that his accomplished friend and cor-
respondent so far gave into his views as to try the
efficacy of mixing in general society; a remedy
which unhappily only proved to her the superiority
of the dean's social qualities and wit.
FROM MISS VANHOMRIGH.
--CAD,-I thought you had quite forgot both
me and your promise of writing to me. Was it
not very unkind to be five weeks absent without
sending me one line to let me know you were well,
and remembered me? Besides, you have had such
bad weather that you could have no diversion abroad;
what then could you do but write and read? I know
you do not love cards, neither is this a time of
year for that amusement. Since I saw you I have
gone more into the world than I did for some time
past, because you commanded me, and I do protest
here that I am more and more sick of it every day
than another. One day this week I was to visit a
great lady that has been a-travelling for some time
past, where I found a very great assembly of ladies
and beaux (dressed as I suppose to a nicety). I hope
you'll pardon me now I tell you that I heartily wished
you a spectator, for I very much question if in your
life you ever saw the like scene, or one more extra-
ordinary. The lady's behaviour was blended with
so many different characters, I cannot possibly de-
scribe it without tiring your patience. But the au-
dience seemed to be a creation of her own, they were
so very obsequious. Their forms and gestures were
VOL. I.
TO MISS VANHOMRIGH
I
"I am this moment leaving my present residence,
and if I fix anywhere shall let you know it, [for I would
fain wait till I got a little good weather for riding and
walking, there never having been such a season as this
remembered; though I doubt you know nothing of
it but what you learn by sometimes looking out at
your back window to call your people. I had your
last, with a splendid account of your law affairs.
You were once a better solicitor, when you could
contrive to make others desire your consent to an
act of parliament against their own interest to ad-
vance yours. Yet at present you neither want power
nor skill, but disdain to exercise either. When you
are melancholy, read diverting or amusing books; it
is my receipt, and seldom fails. Health, good humour,
and fortune, are all that is valuable in this life, and
the last contributes to the two former. I have not
rode in all above poor 400 miles since I saw you, nor
do I believe I shall ride above 200 more till I see you
again; but I desire you will not venture to shake
me by the hand, for I am in mortal fear of the itch,
and have no hope left but that some ugly vermin
called ticks have got into my skin, of which I have
pulled out some, and must scratch out the rest.
not this enough to give me the spleen? for I doubt
no christian family will receive me: and this is all a
man gets by a northern journey. It would be un-
happy for me to be as nice in my conversation and
company as you are, which is the only thing wherein
you agree with Glassheel, who declares there is not
a conversable creature in Ireland except Cad. What
would you do in these parts, where politeness is as
much a stranger as cleanliness? I am stopped, and
this letter is intended to travel with me; so adieu till
the next stage. Aug. 8.
Is
Yesterday I rode 29 miles without being weary,
and I wish little Heskinage could do as much. Here
I leave this letter to travel on one way while I
go another, but where I do not know, nor what
cabins or bogs are in my way. I see you this
moment as you are visible at ten in the morning,
and now you are asking your questions round, and
I am answering them with a great deal of affected
delays, and the same scene has passed forty times
as well as the other, from two till seven, longer
than the first by two hours, yet each has its agrémens
particuliers]. A long vacation. Law lies asleep, and
bad weather. How do you wear away the time? Is
it among the fields and groves of your country-e
C
lviit
LIFE AND WORKS OF
or among your cousins in town, or thinking in a
train that will be sure to vex you, and then reasoning
and forming teasing conclusions from mistaken
thoughts? The best company for you is a philoso-
pher, whom you would regard as much as a sermon.
I have read more trash since I left you than would
fill all your shelves, and am abundantly the better for
it, though I scarce remember a syllable. [Go over the
scenes of Windsor, Cleveland-row, Rider-street, St.
James's-street, Kensington, the Sluttery, the Colonel
in France, &c. Cad thinks often of these, especially
on horseback, as I am assured.] What a foolish thing
is time, and how foolish is man, who would be as
angry if time stopped as if it passed! But I will not
proceed at this rate; for I am writing and thinking
myself fast into a spleen, which is the only thing that
I would not compliment you by imitating. So adien
till the next place I fix in, [if I fix at all till I return,
and that I leave to fortune and the weather]."
The sequel of this unhappy story, almost as strange
and improbable as any in the wildest romance, is soon
told. A fatal influence seemed to hang over it from
the beginning, and the heart of Swift, torn by con-
tending emotions, hastened the final doom of one to
whom, with all his morbid errors, he seems to have
been devotedly attached. In a moment of grief,
anguish, and remorse, he had given his hand to
another, in the vain hope of snatching that once be-
loved object from an untimely grave. The discovery
of that fact, so long concealed, was the last blow
which the gentle and affectionate Vanessa had to
sustain. Swift had entreated his friend and former
tutor, the bishop of Clogher, to ascertain the cause
of that melancholy which evidently preyed on Stella's
mind, and must have been shocked to hear of "her
sensibility to his late indifference, and to the discre-
dit which her character had sustained from the du-
bious and mysterious connexion between them."
Swift observed in reply that he had long formed two
resolutions with regard to matrimony: one, not to
marry till he possessed an independence; the other,
that such an event should take place at a period
which should give him hopes of seeing his children.
provided for in the world. He had not obtained a
competent fortune; and he was past the time of life
which gave him a reasonable prospect of bringing up
a family-rules exceedingly prudent to adopt, but
which called for extreme caution and circumspection
on the part of every honourable man who, in his in-
tercourse with the other sex, determines to regulate
his conduct by them.
To satisfy public opinion, however, he intimated
his consent to a formal marriage; and it took place in
the garden of the deanery, the ceremony being per-
formed by the bishop of Clogher, in the year 1716.a
After it had taken place we are informed that Swift
evinced a very unhappy state of mind. The gloom
and agitation previously shown became such that he
is said to have sought an interview with archbishop
King, the nature of which has never transpired; but
we are assured by Dr. Delany that, upon entering
the prelate's library to make known his apprehen-
sions, Swift himself rushed by him with a counte-
nance full of grief and a distracted air, without even
noticing his presence. Delany observed the arch-
bishop to be weeping, and upon inquiring into the
cause was answered, Sir, you have just met the
most unhappy man upon earth; but on the subject
subject
of his wretchedness you must never ask a question."
From this strange mystery Delany suspected that
Strong doubts however are entertained by some excellent
authorities - Mr. Monck Mason and Dr. Lyon--of any marriage
baving taken place. Scott states the arguments very fully upon
both sides, and seems to lean to the belief that i did actually
Occur
Swift, subsequent to his union, discovered there ex-
isted too close a consanguinity between Stella and
himself, and that both were the illegitimate children
of sir W. Temple-a supposition for which there
could be assigned no reasonable grounds. Whatever
may have been the cause, Swift's intercourse with
Stella continued as distant and guarded as before,
and it was attended with the same inconveniences
and ceremony.
She had few acquaintance but
Swift's male friends; and one of those few has
left it upon record "that Stella used to go, with
Mrs. Dingley, to Dr. Delany's villa on Wednesdays,
where his men companions dined before he was
married to my poor friend. Mrs. Delany, who once
saw her by accident, was much struck with the beauty
of her countenance, and particularly with her fine
dark eyes. She was very pale, and looked pensive
but not melancholy, and her hair as black as a
raven.
We have seen how much Swift renewed his efforts,
after Stella's marriage, to check the growth of Va-
nessa's passion, and sought to direct her affections
towards another object. Through him dean Winter
became a candidate for her hand; and she was ad-
dressed with no better success by Dr. Price, after-
wards archbishop of Cashell. An interesting account
of Vanessa, and the secluded manner in which she
lived, has been left by a correspondent of sir W. Scott:
Marley abbey," he says, "near Cellbridge, where
Miss V. resided, is built much in the form of a real
cloister, especially in its external appearance. An
aged man-upwards of 90-showed the grounds; the
son of Mrs. V.'s gardener, and used to work with his
father in the garden when a boy. He remembered
the unfortunate Vanessa well, and his account of her
corresponded with the usual description of her per-
son, especially as to her embonpoint. He said she
was seldom abroad, and saw little company; her
constant amusement was reading or walking in the
garden. Yet, according to this authority, her so-
ciety was courted by several families in the neigh-
bourhood who visited her, notwithstanding her sel-
dom returning that attention, and he added that
her manners interested every one who knew her;
but she avoided company, and was always melan-
choly save when Swift was there, and then she seemed
happy. The garden was to an uncommon degree
crowded with laurels. The old man said that, when
Miss Vanhomrigh expected the dean, she always
planted with her own hand a laurel or two against his
arrival. He showed her favourite seat, still called
Vanessa's bower: three or four trees and some lau-
rels indicate the spot. They had formerly, according
to the old man's information, been trained into a
close arbour. There were two seats and a rude
table within the bower, the opening of which com-
manded a view of the Liffey, which had a romantic
effect; and there was a small cascade that murmured
at some distance. In this sequestered spot, accord-
ing to the gardener's account, the dean and Vanessa
used often to sit, with books and writing materials
on the table before them.'
After the death of her sister, Vanessa became still
more absorbed by the unhappy passion that con-
sumed her life; and believing herself more neglected
The only portrait of Stella known is in possession of the
Rev. Mr. Berwick. Dr Tooke has a lock of her hair, on the
envelope of which is written in Swift's hand-"Only a woman's
hair." Scott observes truly,- "If Stella was dead when Swift
laid apart this memorial, the motto is an additional instance of
his striving to veil the most bitter feelings under the guise of
cynical indifference." Of the sensibility of his feelings under a
rough outside, there are innumerable proofs; and love's poor
victim, Vanessa herself, speaks of the charming compassion
which shone in his countenance as what most captivated her
allection even more than his awo
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lix
by Swift than before, she resolved to ascertain the
nature of that influence which prevented him from
avowing the affection which she believed he enter-
tained for her. Without giving the least intimation
of her purpose she addressed a letter to Stella, with
a request to be informed of the nature of the ac-
quaintance so long known to exist between her and
the dean. What must have been poor Vanessa's as-
tonishment to hear, in reply, that Swift had bound
himself by the strongest of legal titles to her rival!
while that rival, feeling no less indignant at the sup-
posed intimacy which such an inquiry indicated,
withdrew to the house of Mr. Ford, near Dublin.
At the same time she sent Vanessa's letter to Swift,
who, filled with sudden rage, rode with it to Marley
abbey, and entered the unfortunate lady's room with
a countenance which struck terror into her gentle
and sorrowing heart. It was with difficulty she
faltered out a few words to ask if he would not take
a seat. His sole reply was to throw her own letter
upon the table, and in the same paroxysm of passion.
to rush from the room and remount his horse. Upon
receiving this deathblow to all her hopes from one
who is believed to have assured her (July 5th, 1721)
that no person on earth had ever been so loved,
honoured, esteemed, adored by her friend as she
herself, she never more held up her head, and within
three weeks from that fatal moment she died of a
broken heart.
It is almost impossible, even under all the extenu-
ating circumstances of the case, to find language suf-
ficiently strong to denounce Swift's conduct upon this
occasion. However irritating and distressing the
situation in which he found himself, no defence can
be made for the indulgence of passion so violent,
and for the commission of so violent an outrage—for
such it was-upon the feelings of an accomplished
and noble-minded woman, whose sole fault was
loving him "not wisely, but too well," and deserved
at least his utmost tenderness and compassion. The
only extenuation of his stern cruelty that can be
offered is that he was labouring under a species of
distraction, arising from a combination of causes,
and in some part from that morbid sensibility and
irritation of temper which, far from bearing the evils
of life with becoming humility and patience, forming
no part of his character, hurried him into gloom,
misanthropy, and despair, and terminated in con-
firmed insanity. Miss Vanhomrigh died in the 37th
year of her age, and is known to have revoked the
will previously made in favour of Swift, leaving Mr.
Marshall, one of the judges of the common pleas,
and Dr. Berkeley, bishop of Cloyne, her residuary
legatees, after some provision for her servants and
remembrances to her friends. Bishop Berkeley, it
was believed, had destroyed the original MSS. of the
letters given by Mr. Nichols and sir W. Scott, with
the additions by the latter, from the originals in the
possession of Mr. Berwick. Whether Vanessa de-
sired her exccutors to publish these documents, as
asserted, cannot now he ascertained. Such a cir-
emmstance is not mentioned in her will; but it is in
favour of this supposition that the poem of "Cadenus
and Vanessa" was published not long after her death.
It has been likewise observed that she was very
angry with Swift on account of one of the lines in
particular, "Nor shall the conscious Muse unfold;"
and it cannot be denied that it is objectionable in
whatever view considered; and the more so, perhaps,
as coming from one who appears to have been so
studiously fearful of incurring-though not of placing
himself in a position of doing so-the kind of gallant
reputation to which such an assertion may be
thought to aspire. "The sum of the evidence,"
says sir W. Scott, "which they (the letters) afford,
seems to amount to this-that while residing in
England for years, and at a distance from Stella,
Swift incautiously engaged in a correspondence with
Miss Vanhomrigh, which probably at first meant
little more than mere gallantry, since the mother,
brother, and sister, seem all to have been confidants
of their intimacy. After his going to Ireland his
letters assume a graver cast, and consist rather of ad-
vice, caution, and rebuke, than expressions of tender-
ness. Yet neither his own heart, nor the nature of
Vanessa's violent attachment, permit him to suppress
strong, though occasional and rare, indications of the
high regard in which he held her, although honour,
friendship, and esteem had united his fate with that
of another. It would perhaps have been better had
their amours never been made public; as that
has however happened, it is the biographer's duty to
throw such light upon them as Mr. Berwick's friend-
ship has enabled him to do, in order that Swift's
conduct, weak and blamable as it must be held in
this instance, may at least not suffer hereafter from
being seen under false and imperfect lights.”
For some period subsequent to the death of Miss
Vanhomrigh Swift retired into the south of Ireland,
where be continued several months, the victim of
his own imprudent conduct and violent passions,
without communicating, it is supposed, even with
his dearest friends. His return to Dublin, and his
subsequent reconciliation with Stella, bring this, the
most unhappy and least creditable portion of "his
strange eventful history," to a close.
It has been already mentioned that Swift had
other declarations of love from anonymous quarters,
still less welcome and expected. It may amuse our
readers to show the kind of impression he had the
misfortune to produce upon the too susceptible hearts
of the fair-so sudden and so opposite to most men's
experience in these matters; and the present case is
the more curious as exhibiting a singular economy
in love on the lady's side, who seems to have been
up and stirring, to utter her fond complaints to her
beloved Jonathan, at four o'clock in the morning.
It is a wonder the dean forgot to give us one of his
inimitable ballads upon this "forlorn hope' of some
fifth or sixth Dulcinea that laid such strong siege to
his implacable affections:—
FROM SACHARISSA TO
<<
Thursday morning, four o'clock.
"If I was not thoroughly convinced that the author
of this distracted scroll will for ever be sunk in ob-
livion, I would choose death in any shape before I
would reveal the continual anguish I have suffered,
even before I saw your godlike form; for believe me,
my passion first got birth by perusing your inimita-
ble writings.
"If women were allowed to speak their thoughts, I
would glory in my choice, and spread your fame, if
possible, farther than these narrow limits of the
earth.
"It is my misfortune to be in the care of persons
who generally keep youth under such restraint as
won't permit them to publish their passion though
never so violent, and such I must confess mine for
you to be. Could you conceive the many pangs, the
many different pangs I feel, I flatter myself you
would lighten the insupportable burthen of my love
by generously bearing a part. When I consider to
whom I speak, that it is to the divine immortal
Swift, I am confounded at my vanity; but, alas, the
malignity of my disorder is so great that my love
soon gets the better of the regard and homage I
render even to his name; but certain it is, if you
€ 2
LIFE AND WORKS OF
don't flatter this absurd but sincere passion of mine,
I must expect death as the just reward of my pre-
sumption; and be assured, if it were any but your-
self. I would cheerfully suffer that before I would
have my passion returned with disdain; and as I ex-
pect no other from you, beg you'll publish it in
'Faulkener's Journal,' under what fictitious name
you please—for if I have the least understanding I
shall distinguish your writings, under ever so many
disadvantages, from any other-and inscribe it to
Sacharissa. You may easily imagine with what im-
patience I shall expect Friday: I can't add how
much I am yours till the arrival of my doom.
"SACHARISSA."
Be-
Swift, however, owing to the very cause here in-
timated the spontaneous affections of the ladies-
had already too much of the same kind upon his
hands, and most probably felt extremely happy to
decline this new challenge of his fair assailant.
sides, he had other and more important matters, free
at least from the direful consequences so often at-
tending “the beautiful passion," as the French term
it, when love makes his attack from the lady's side,
and in the midst of his multiplied cares and studies,
when the fate of liberty and empire hung in the
balance, in addition to his own fortune and personal
security, he no doubt felt it a comparative heaven
upon earth to be absolved from the claims of those
whose affections he had never courted, and who
would not rest satisfied with the tenderest friendship
and esteem. He might well exclaim with classic
authority, "non omnes omnia possumus," which
has been thus paraphrased in a popular song:
"Do what I will, I cannot wed ye all."
During Swift's residence in Ireland, between the
years 1715 and 1723, when he reappeared on the
political stage in the character of the Drapier, he
kept up an active correspondence with his numerous
connexions in England and elsewhere.
The rev.
Dr. Jebb, Dr. Mossom, and Dr. Jinny, in addition
to the familiar circle more near him in Dublin, were
among
those for whom the dean entertained a high
esteem, while his renewal of intercourse with Ad-
dison for the remainder of that amiable writer's life
led to his friendship for Mr. Tickell, through whose
influence he was enabled to do so much good, and
in some measure to infuse a better feeling, in regard
to Ireland, into the measures of the new Whig go-
vernment. The more his real views became known
the greater influence did they exert; and this was
more particularly the case as respected church dis-
cipline, and the wise and liberal exercise of his
power over his own chapter, which in time wholly
conciliated the prejudices felt towards him in the
highest quarters, and gained for him the esteem of
those prelates who had most strenuously opposed
him. In the following letter to Dr. Mossom, then
dean of Ossory, he alludes to some of the divisions.
which had given rise to considerable anxiety on his
part. It is dated February 14th, 1720-21, and is the
more interesting as throwing light upon the views
and feelings of the dean at that period:
"When I had the honour of yours of the 8th inst.
I was in very ill health, and am since but slowly
recovering. About five years ago I had some dis-
putes with my chapter upon the occasion of my ne-
gatives, which was never contradicted before; nor
did the members directly do it then, but by some
side-ways of arguing the ill consequences which
might follow if it had no exceptions. This they were
instigated to do by the archbishop of Tuam, who in-
cited the archbishop of Dublin, and who said he had
long entertained an opinion against my negative.
Since that they never contradicted it; and the point
is, as you say, perfectly absurd. I then writ to the
bishop of Rochester and dean of Sarum, who had
been my old friends, the former distinguished be-
tween deaneries of the old and new establishment,
and both of them advised me to make as little stir as
I could. The dean of Sarum said positively that he
had no more power in the chapter than a senior pre-
bendary; that when he was absent the next senior
presided of course, and had only a vote. In this
case, without doubt, time has so ordered it that things
may be done by the dean and chapter, whether the
former consent or no. But you are to understand
that the privileges and powers of the dean of St.
Patrick's depend upon subsequent grants and con-
firmations of popes, parliaments, and kings, and arch-
bishops. Now if your chapter be much older than
Edward IV.'s time, for aught I know you may be on
the foot of St. Patrick's, as that was upon the foot of
Sarum before the subsequent provisions were made.
There is a French act of parliament, Edward IV.,
where it is recited, That whereas the dean of St.
Patrick is ordinary, &c., and has such and such pri-
vileges,' &c., so that then they were known. This
deanery is 503 years old, and several of the dean's
i
powers were granted in the first, second, and third
centuries after; and the error of my opponents lay
in thinking this deanery was like that of Sarum,
without considering what came after. I believe your
best arguments will be, to insist in general that you
copy after St. Patrick's, and if they allow that, I
will provide you with power and privilege enough.
It is an infallible maxim that not one thing here is
done without the dean's consent. If he proposes, it
is then left to the majority, because his proposal is
his consent. This is as much as I can send you at
present from a giddy, aching head. If you command
any further particulars from me of my practice here,
or any other point wherein I can do you service, you
shall find me ready to obey, and I think there are
few older acquaintances than you and I."
$4
In his correspondence also with Mr. Tickell the
dean expresses his sentiments with the most unre-
served confidence and friendship, and often in a
strain of wit and good humour that showed his "an-
cient fires" were not yet become extinct. I shall
wait on you," he says (Deanery-house, July, 1724),
"at the time and place you appoint, although it is bard
that your last-comers and lodgers should invite an
old housekeeper, which I would have you to know
gowns
I am, and can bring you half-a-dozen men in
I shall therefore attend you only on
to depose it.
this condition, that you will be ready to fix a day for
dining at the deanery with lord Forbes and Mr.
Sheridan, because the latter has been heard to boast
that you will condescend to suffer him."
It is evident from the following how much Swift
interested himself, and employed the influence he
possessed with government, to render services to
those whom he considered deserving of them; the
more honourable to him from his being frequently
in a very infirm and suffering state of health. "I
should have waited upon you before now," he says,
(August 3rd, 1724), “if I had not been tormented
with an old vexatious disorder of a deafness and
noise in my ears, which has returned after having
left me two years, and makes me insupportable to
others and myself.
"I now make bold to trouble you in an affair
which goes very near my heart. Mr. Proby, sur
geon-general, my old friend, and most generally be-
loved of any man in this kingdom, lies under a great
misfortune at present. His eldest son, a captain in
lord Tyrawley's regiment, has been accused at Gal-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
The
way for discovering an inclination to popery, aud
several affidavits have been made against him. The
young man desires nothing but a fair trial.
accusation is generally judged malicious and false;
but that concerus you not. He is to be tried in a
few days; but the matter must first go before the
lords-justices. Mr. Proby, being utterly unknown
to you, desires the favour to wait upon you either
this afternoon or evening, or early to-morrow morn-
ing. He does not intend this as a solicitation for
his son; he has too much discretion; but as the
business will first come before the lords-justices he
thinks it will be proper for him to wait on you, and
say or ask what is convenient, and thought that my
recommendation will facilitate his access. Therefore,
pray, sir, mistake me not-I am not at all making you
an advocate, but only desiring that he may not see
you wholly as a stranger."
64
Shortly afterwards Swift had occasion to write to
lord Carteret, then lord-lieutenant, with other appli-
cations of a similar benevolent nature, which he also
addressed through Mr. Tickell, who still held the
official situation obtained through the influence of
his friend Addison. "I desire," he observes (Sept.
4th, 1724), you will please to send the enclosed.
I beg your pardon for so often troubling you; but I
owed his excellency a letter. I am pretty well eased
of my troublous disorder, and intend to wait on you
soon, and hope you will make some appointment
with those you like best, that we may meet at the
deanery."
The enclosed letter, which does so much honour
both to Swift's heart and judgment, will here form
an appropriate introduction to his connexion with a
wit and scholar, who had the highest opinion of
Swift's powers and delighted in his society :-
TO LORD CARTERET.
Sept. 7, 1724.
a
"MY LORD,-Being ten years older than when I
had the honour to see your excellency last, by con-
sequence, if I am subject to any ailments, they are
now ten times worse-and so it has happened. For
I have been this month past so pestered with the
return of a noise and deafness in my ears that I
had not spirit to perform the common offices of life,
much less to write to your excellency, and least
of all to answer so obliging and condescending
letter as that I received from you. But these ugly ten
years have a worse consequence: that they utterly
destroy any title to the good opinion you are pleased
to express of me, as an amuser of the world and
myself. To have preserved that talent, I ought, as I
grew older, to have removed into a better climate, in-
stead of being sunk for life in a worse. I imagine
France would be properer for me now, and Italy
ten years hence. However, I am not so bad as they
would make me: for since I left England such a
parcel of trash has been fathered upon me, that no-
tling but the good judgment of my friends could
hinder them from thinking me the greatest dunce
alive.
"There is a gentleman of this kingdom just gone
over to England; it is Dr. George Berkeley, dean of
Derry, the best preferment among us, being worth
11007. a-year.
He takes the Bath in his way to
London; and will of course attend your excellency,
and be presented, I suppose, by his friend my lord
Burlington. And because I believe you will choose
out some very idle minutes to read this letter, perhaps
you may not be ill entertained with some account
of the man and his errand. He was a fellow of the
university here; and going to England very young,
about thirteen years ago, he became the founder of
a sect there called the Immaterialists, by the force of
a very curious book upon that subject. Dr. Smal-
ridge and many other eminent persons were his pro-
selytes. I sent him secretary and chaplain to Sicily
with my lord Peterborow; and upon his lordship's
return Dr. Berkeley spent some seven years in tra-
velling over most part of Europe, but chiefly through
every corner of Italy, Sicily, and other islands. When
he came back to England he found so many friends
that he was effectually recommended to the duke of
Grafton, by whom he was lately made dean of Derry.
Your excellency will be frighted when I tell you all
this is but an introduction; for I am now to mention his
errand. He is an absolute philosopher with regard to
money, titles, and power; and for three years past has
been struck with a notion of founding an university
He has
at Bermudas, by a charter from the crown.
seduced several of the hopefullest young clergymen,
and others here, many of them well provided for,
and all of them in the fairest way of preferment :
but in England his conquests are greater, and I doubt
He showed me a
will spread very far this winter.
little tract which he designs to publish; and there
your excellency will see his whole scheme of a life
academico-philosophical (I shall make
you remember
what you were) of a college founded for Indian
scholars and missionaries; where he most exorbi-
tantly proposes a whole hundred pounds a-year for
himself, forty for a fellow, and ten for a student.
His heart will break if his deanery be not taken from
him and left to your excellency's disposal. I dis-
couraged him by the coldness of courts and ministers.
who will interpret all this as impossible and a vision,
but nothing will do. And therefore I humbly en-
treat your excellency either to use such persuasions as
will keep one of the first men in this kingdom for
learning and virtue quiet at home, or assist him by
your credit to compass bis romantic design; which,
however, is very noble and generous, and directly
proper for a great person of your excellent education
to encourage.
"I must now in all humility entreat one favour of
you, as you are lord-lieutenant. Mr. Proby, surgeon
of the army here, laid out the greatest portion of his
fortune to buy a captainship for bis eldest son. The
young man was lately accused of discovering an in-
clination to popery while he was quartered in Gal-
way. The report of the court-martial is transmitted
to your excellency. The universal opinion is that
the accusation is false and malicious; and the arch-
bishop of Tuam, in whose diocese Galway is, upou
a strict inquiry has declared it to be so. But all this
is not to sway with your excellency, any more than
that the father is the most universally beloved of any
man I ever knew in his station. But I entreat that
you will please to hear the opinion of others who
may speak in his favour, and perhaps will tell you
'that, as party is not in the case, so you cannot do
any personal thing more acceptable to the people of
Ireland than inclining towards lenity to Mr. Proby
and his family; although I have reason to be confi-
dent that they neither need nor desire more than
justice: I beg your excellency will remember my
request to be only that you would hear others; and
not think me so very weak as to imagine I could
have hopes of giving the least turn to your mind.
Therefore I hope what I have said is pardonable in
every respect but that of taking up your time.
"My lord, we are here preparing for your reception,
and for a quiet session under your government; but
whether you approve the manner, I can only guess.
It is by universal declarations against Wood's coin.
One thing I am confident of-that your excellency
will find and leave us under dispositions very different
Ixii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
1
ސ
toward your person and high station from what
have appeared toward others.
"I have no other excuse for the length of this letter
but a faithful promise that I will never be guilty of
the same fault a second time."
The preceding letter, with that which follows,
will form no unappropriate introduction to the more
important subject of the "Drapier's Letters," and one
which constitutes so marked an epoch in the life of
the celebrated dean. It is addressed to Mr. Tickell
(Deanery-house, Oct. 24, 1724), and shows how
highly he estimated the character of lord Carteret,
and augured possibly in some degree the relief of
his oppressed countrymen.
'SIR,-I did not design to attend my lord-lieu-
tenant till his hurry of visits and ceremony were over,
but I fear it will be long before I can have that honour,
for I am so cruelly persecuted with the return of my
deafness that I am fit for nothing but to mope in my
chamber. I therefore humbly entreat your favour
to present my most humble duty to his excellency,
and to let him know the unlucky cause that hinders
me from waiting on him, which I apprehend will
yet continue some weeks. I have already had but
too much cause to complain of a disorder which
hath so long deprived me of the happiness of your
company. I conclude you are now a busy man, and
shall therefore only add that I am, with great es-
teem, &c.''a
TO MR. TICKELL.
July 19, 1725.
There can be no stronger proof of the sincerity of
the dean's friendship for Addison, and of his wisdom
your remembrance. Mrs. Johnson has blunted her pickaxe with
work."
""
TO THE SAME.
"Sept. 18, 1725
SIR,-You court people have found out the way of vexing
me in all my privacy and monkish manner of living. Here is Mr.
Sheridan perpetually teasing me with complaints, directly in
the style I have often met among state letters, of loss of favour
by misrepresentation, and envy, and malice, and secret enemies,
and the rest of that jargon. I have had share of it myself, and
so I believe have you, and may have more in the course of your
fortune. The worst evil is, that when ill opinions are instilled
into great men they never think it worth their while to be un-
deceived, and so a little man is ruined without the least tincture
of guilt. And therefore, the last time I was in the world, I re-
fused to deal with a chief minister till he promised me upon
his honour never to be influenced by any ill story of me till he
told it me plainly and heard my defence, after which, if I
cleared myself, it should pass for nothing; and he kept his
word and I was never once in pain. I was the person who re-
commended Mr. Sheridan: but the bishop of Elphin took upon
him to do it in form, and gave it a sanction, and was seconded
by two other bishops, all principled according to your heart's
desire, and therefore his excellency hath nothing to answer for.
I do believe Mr. Sheridan hath been formerly reckoned a Tory,
but no otherwise than hundreds among your favourites, who,
perhaps, grew converts with more zeal, noise, and cunning, but,
with less decency. And I hope a man may be a convert with-
out being a renegado; and however the practice is contrary, I
know which of them I should most favour. It is most infallible
by all sorts of reason that Mr. Sheridan is altogether innocent.
in that accusation of preaching, but, as he is a creature without
cunning, so he hath not overmuch advertency. His books, his
mathematics, the pressures of his fortune, his laborious calling,
and some natural disposition or indisposition, give him égare-
ment d'esprit, as you cannot but observe; but he hath other good
qualities enough to make up that defect; truth, candour, good-
nature, pleasantness of humour, and very good learning; and it
was upon these regards I was bold to recommend him, because
I thought it was for the general good that he should have some
encouragement to go on in his drudgery. But if it be deter-
mined that party must lay her talous upon him, there is no
more to be said. My lord-lieutenant hath too many great af
fairs to allow time for examining into every little business, and
nocent. I heard king William say that, if the people of Ire-
yet it is hard that even a beggar should suffer who is wholly in-
"SIR,-Your whole behaviour, with relation to myself, ever
since I had the honour to be known to you, hath tended ma-
liciously to hinder me from writing or speaking anything that
could deserve to be read or heard. I can no sooner hint my de-
sire of a favour to a friend but you immediately grant it, on
purpose to load me, so as to put it out of my power to express
my gratitude; and against your conscience you put compli-
ments upon the letter I write, where the subject is only to beg a
favour, on purpose to make me write worse or not at all for the
future. I remember some faint strokes of this unjust proceed-land could be believed in what they said of each other, there was
ing in myself when I had a little credit in the world, but in no
comparison with yours, which have filled up the measure of
iniquity.
"I have often thought it a monstrous folly in us, who are tied
to this kingdom, to have any friendship with vous autres, who
are birds of passage, while we are sure to be forsaken like young
wenches who are seduced by soldiers that quarter among them
for a few months. Therefore I prudently resolved to make no
other use of you than for my present satisfaction, by improving
myself from your conversation, or making use of your interest
to the advantage of my friends. But when you leave us I will,
For,
for my own quiet, send as few sighs after you as I can.
when gods used to come down to earth to converse with females,
it was true judgment in the lady who chose rather to marry an
earthly lover than Apollo, who would be always rambling to
heaven, and, besides, would be young when she was old.
C
And, to show I am serious in my resolutions, I now entreat
another good office from you, in behalf of a young gentleman,
Mr. James Stopford, a fellow of the college. He is a man of
birth and fortune, but the latter a little engaged by travelling;
and having now as strong temptations to travel again with great
advantage, as governor to a young person, he desires the honour
of being admitted to my lord-lieutenant by your means, with no
other view but the credit that such a reception would give him,
only whispering me (as all men have base ends) that he fore-
sees his excellency, being about his own age, will be always of
so great a consequence in England, as, many years hence, he
may find his account in his lordship's protection and counte-
Ivince.
"He is reckoned the best scholar of his age among us, and
abounds in every amiable quality, without any circumstance to
detract from them, except one, which I hope his travels will
put an end to and that is love.
"In the letter directed to Dr. Delany there is one to Mr. Stop-
ford, who is soon expected in town, and therein I let him know
what I write to you, and direct him to attend you, for which I
hambly desire pardon, as well as for the trouble of sending the
packet to Dr. Delapy, and for teasing you with so long a letter;
which I will conclude with the sincerest profession of being
ever, with great respect,
•
露露
​"
Your most obedient and obliged servant,
J. SWIFT.
"The .adies present their best scrvice and thanks to you for
not an honest man in the kingdom. And if Mr. Sheridan
guesses right of the person who is the chief accuser, there is no
man who is not altogether drunk and mad with party would
value the accusation. If, by the clatter made upon this occa-
sion, it should be thought most proper for Mr. Sheridan not to
appear about the castle at this juncture, I believe he will con-
tent himself, but not that he should lose any degree of favour
with his excellency; and if this be the case, I hope you will so
order that my lord will condescend to signify so much to him;
for I know too well how often princes themselves are obliged
to act against their judgment, amidst the rage of factions. Upon
the whole, the good treatment you have given me hath pro-
duced an ill effect, encouraging me to further requests, that you
will endeavour to make Mr. Sheridan easy. None but con-
verts are afraid of showing favour to those who lie under sus-
picion in point of principles; and that was Mr. Addison's are
gument in openly continuing his friendship to me to the very
hour of his death. And your case is the same, and the same
shall expect from you in a proper degree, both towards Mr.
Sheridan and myself.
"Whether you are in parliament or no, I am sensible you
are too busy at this time to hear such an interruption as I have
given you, and yet I have not said half what I had a mind; my
excusé is, that I have title to your favour as you were Mr. Ad-
dis's friend, and, in the most honourable part, his heir; aud
if he had thought of your coming to this kingdom, he would
have bequeathed me to you,
"I am ever, with true esteem and respect,
"Your ruost obedient and most humble servant,
"JONATHAN SWIFT."
TO THE SAME.
And if
Deanery-house, November 12, 1725.
"SIR,-I have got slowly out of a feverish disorder that lath
confined me these ten days. I shall dine to-morrow at home,
after a sort, en famille with the two ladies my nurses.
you rase to be a fourth, I shall take care that no unacceptable
fifth of the company: and pray let me know. to-night or to
morrow morning, for as to Sunday. I look on you as a guest
when you please.
“I am your most obedient,
"J. Sw.er."
1
JONATHAN SWIFT.
Ixil
and magnanimity in forbearing to resent the cap- |
tious jealousy and coolness which, as in the case of
Pope, the author of the Spectator sometimes gave
way to at the expense of justice, than the regard and
esteem thus uniformly shown by Swift to the dearest
friend and the executor of that pleasing writer. He
reaped the reward he most coveted, the power of
serving his friends; and as a just testimonial to
Swift's high mind and honourable motives in this
correspondence, it affords the writer unalloyed plea-
sure to subjoin the remainder of his interesting cor-
TO THE SAME.
[London], April 16, 1726.
"SIR,-Though I am to desire a lavour of you, yet I was glad
it gave me an opportunity of paying you my respects. I am
here now a month picking up the remnant of my old acquaint-
ance, and descending to take new ones. Your people are very
civil to me, and I meet a thousand times better usage from them
than from that denomination in Ireland.
I can
"This night I saw the wild boy, whose arrival here hath been
the subject of half our talk this fortnight. He is in the keeping
of Dr. Arbuthnot, but the king and court were so entertained
with him that the princess could [no] get him till now.
hardly think him wild in the sense they respect him. Mr.
Arundel is made surveyor of the works, which I suppose you
will hear before you read this.
"I hope I am to give you joy, and I am sure I wish it you; the
reason I trouble you with the enclosed is because it contains a
bill of lading for a picture I have from France, and am afraid it
might miscarry.
You will please to send one of your servants to the person
it is directed to; and accept my excuses.
I am, with true respect, sir,
"Your most obedient humble servant,
"J. SWIFT."
TO THE SAME.
"London, July 7, 1726.
"SIR,-I have led so restless, and visiting, and travelling, and
vexatious a life, since I had the honour of your letter, that I never
had humour enough to acknowledge it, though I carried it
wrapped up safely in my pocket. You are now so old a mar-
ried man, that I shall not congratulate with you, but pray
God you may long congratulate with yourself, and that your
situation will make you a tolerable Irishman, at least till you
can make the lady a good Englishwoman, which, however, I
hope will be late. I cannot complain of any want or civility in
your friends the Whigs; and I will tell you freely that most
of them agree with me in quarrelling about the same things. I
have lived these two months past for the most part in the
country, either at Twickenham with Mr. Pope, or rambling with
him and Mr. Gay for a fortnight together. Yesterday my lord.
Bolingbroke and Mr. Congreve made up five at dinner at Twick-
enham. I have been very little more than a witness of any'
pleasantries you may have seen from London. I am in no se-
dentary way for speculations of any kind, neither do I find
them so ready to occur at this late time of my life. The thing
you mention, which no friend would publish, was written four-
teen years ago at Windsor, and shows how indiscreet it is to
leave any one master of what cannot without the least conse-
quence be shown to the world Folly, malice, negligence, and
the incontinence in keeping secrets (for which we want a word),
ought to caution men to keep the key of their cabinets.
"As to what you mention of an imaginary treatise, I can only
answer that I have a great quantity of papers somewhere or
other, of which none would please you, partly because they are
very incorrect, but chiefly because they wholly disagree with
your notions of persons and things; neither do I believe it
would be possible for you to find out my treasury of waste
papers without searching nine houses and then sending to me
for the key.
"I find the ladies make the deanory their villa. I have been
told that Mrs. Johnson's health has given her friends bad ap-
preheusions; and I have heard but twice from them. But their
secretary, Dr. Sheridan, just tells me she is much better, to my
great satisfaction. I wonder how you could expect to see her
in a morning, which I, her oldest acquaintance, have not done
these dozen years, except once or twice in a journey. I desire
to present my most humble service to Mrs. Tickell.
"I shall return in a few days to Twickenham, and there con-
tinue till August, at the latter end of which month I propose to
wait on you at the castle of Dublin; for I am weary of being
among ministers whom I cannot govern, who are all rank
Tories in governmeat and worse than Whigs in church;
whereas I was the first man who taught and practiseil the direct
Contrary principle.
"I am, sir, with sincere respect,
"Your most obedient humble servant.
"JONATHAN SWIFT."
who merited the
respondence with Mr. Tickell,
dean's friendship also on his own account.
During a period of six years from his return to
Ireland, Swift had conscientiously adhered to his
resolution of not interfering with political affairs.
He saw with grief the unhappy causes which ren-
dered his country the most oppressed and desolate
of any known in the civilized world, and he was
heard to declare that it made his flesh creep and his
blood boil to witness the extreme degradation to
which it was condemned by the impolicy and wick-
edness of successive governments. He left no means
uutried to remove the disastrous influence that prey-
ed upon its vitals, by arousing the people to a juster
sense of their resources and their rights; he even
overcame his natural repugnance to use his persua-
sions with his political enemies to serve his cause,
while he waited patiently till the extreme violence
of party should have exhausted itself upon stronger
enemies. But in the year 1720 Swift found he
could no longer remain with honour a silent specta-
tor of the course of events. In his "Proposal for the
universal Use of Irish Manufactures" he pointed out
to the people of Ireland that their poverty and dis-
tress were chiefly owing to their own folly, and that
the remedy lay in their own power. He gives an
interesting account of his views and motives in those
lighter publications which ushered in his more re-
nowned letters of the Drapier, to his friend Pope,
the last of that brilliant galaxy of wits left to cheer
the dean in his advancing years, and whom he re-
garded with the tenderest affection. "I have writ-
ten in this kingdom a discourse to persuade the
wretched people to wear their own manufactures,
instead of those from England. This treatise soon
spread very fast, being agreeable to the sentiments
of the whole nation, except of those gentlemen who
had employments, or were expectants. Upon which,
a person in great office here immediately took the
alarm; he sent in haste for the chief-justice and in-
formed him of a seditious, factious, and virulent
pamphlet, lately published with the design of setting
the two kingdoms at variance; directing at the same
time that the printer should be prosecuted with the
utmost rigour of the law. The chief-justice has so
quick an understanding, that he resolved, if possible,
to outdo his orders. The grand juries of the county
and the city were effectually practised with to repre-
sent the said pamphlet with all aggravating epithets,
for which they had thanks sent them from England,
and their presentment published for several weeks
in all the newspapers.
The printer was seized and
forced to give great bail. After his trial the jury
brought him in not guilty, although they had been
culled with the utmost industry: the chief-justice
sent them back nine times, and kept them eleven
hours, until being
hours, until being perfectly tired out they were.
forced to leave the matter to the mercy of the judge,
by what they call a special verdict. During the trial
the chief-justice, among other singularities, laid his
own hand on his breast, and protested solemnly that
the author's design was to bring in the pretender,
although there was not a single syllable of party in
the whole treatise, and although it was known that
the most eminent of those who professed his own
principles publicly disallowed his proceedings. But
the cause being so very odious and unpopular, the
trial of the verdict was deferred from one term to
another, until, upon the duke of Grafton's (the lord-
lieutenant's) arrival, his grace, after mature advice
and permission from England, was pleased to grant a
noli prosequi.”
From the manner in which Swift was supported
by popular opiniou in this effort to remove one of
Ixiv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
the causes of the people's sufferings, in spite of the
utmost exertions of the Whig party, he was encou-
raged to aim at higher things, and to identify his
future reputation with the triumph of a popular
movement almost unprecedented under the circum-
stances in which Ireland was placed. After taking
signal vengeance upon the chief-justice, and ren-
dering him an object of public indignation, he again
withdrew from the controversial arena, and appears
to have been engaged, both then and subsequently in
England, in bringing to perfection his great master-
piece of fictitious composition-his immortal "Tra-
Tra-
vels of Captain Gulliver." In this interval, between
1720 and 1724, there does not seem to have been
published a single work known under his name; but
in the latter year an occasion offered, which he
eagerly embraced, of dispersing those clouds behind
which he had so long been concealed, and of ventur-
ing upon a more daring career than he had before
attempted. "The great acquisition of esteem and
influence," says Dr. Johnson, was made by the
"Drapier's Letters." One Wood, of Wolverhampton,
in Staffordshire, a man enterprising and rapacious,
had, as is said, by a present to the duchess of Mun-
ster, obtained a patent empowering him to coin one
hundred and eight thousand pounds of halfpence
and farthings, for the kingdom of Ireland, in which
there was a very inconvenient and embarrassing
scarcity of copper coin; so that it was possible to
run in debt upon the credit of a piece of money;
for the cook or keeper of an alehouse could not re-
fuse to supply a man that had silver in his hand, and
the buyer would not leave his money without change.
The project was therefore plausible. The scarcity,
which was already great, Wood took care to make
greater by agents who gathered up the old halfpence,
and was about to turn his brass into gold by pouring
the treasures of his new mint upon Ireland, when
Swift, finding that the metal was debased to an enor-
mous degree, wrote letters under the name of M. B.,
Drapier, to show the folly of receiving, and the mis-
chief that must ensue by giving gold and silver for
coin perhaps not a third part of its nominal value.”
There were other and more serious evils that would
have followed the nefarious attempt to curich an in-
dividual at the expense of an entire nation.
It was
not the debasement of the metal so much as the
wide field opened for the patentee to withdraw the
remaining gold and silver from the already exhausted
land, and to substitute a spurious coin, which must
soon have found its way even to the treasury itself, bring-
ing deserved retribution upon the heads of those who
granted his powers. No security was exacted from
Wood that he would not, like his predecessors, forge
his own coin beyond the stated limits, and inundate
the country with an arbitrary currency of his own.
"The great force," says Mr. Deane Swift, "of the
doctor's reasoning in the character of an Irish drapier,
was not so much levelled against a moderate quantity
of halfpence in general (which it is certain were much
wanted in Ireland in 1724) as against Wood's adul-
terate copper in particular, which was not worth three
halfpence in a shilling, and which might have been
poured in upon the nation from Wood's mint to eter-
nity, as he had neither given security for his honesty
nor obliged himself, like other patentees, to give
either gold or silver in exchange for his copper,
whereas the halfpence (afterwards) sent over to Ire-
land in 1737 were coined in the Tower, by the express
order of the crown, for the conveniency of the king-
dom, &c. &c. However, it is certain that an adver-
tisement of three lines by order of Dr. Swift, had
there been occasion for it, as there was not, would
instantly have stopped their currency."
|
It might have been added by his ingenious relative
and able commentator that the tacit approbation of
the dean upon this last occasion strongly evinced that
his opposition to the impolitic and disgraceful project
was by no means of a factious nature, or induced by any
interested or ambitious views. Sheridan also declared
that no one in Ireland was consulted upon the sub-
ject, nor was any previous notice given to the lord-
lieutenant. And Swift himself, to place the matter
beyond a doubt, has left it upon record that his ob-
jections to its introduction were founded upon strong
principle-namely, the fraudulent obtaining and exe-
cuting of the patent, the baseness of the metal, and
the prodigious sum to be coined, which might be in-
creased by stealth from foreign importations and his
own counterfeits as well as those at home; "whereby
we infallibly lose all our little gold and silver, and all
our poor remainder of a very limited and discouraged
trade." He likewise asserted in his advertisement
that the sum was five times greater than the occa-
sion required; and in one of his many poems upon
the unlucky patentee he gives vent to his satirical
genius upon the fact of his being committed to gaol
for debt:-
"And over these fillets he wisely has thrown-
To keep out of danger-a doublet of stone."
"For my own part," he observes, "who am but one
man of obscure origin, I do solemnly declare in the
presence of Almighty God that I will suffer the most
ignominious and torturing death rather than submit
to receive this accursed coin, or any other that shall
be liable to the same objections, until they shall be
forced upon me by a law of my own country; and
if that shall even happen, I will transport myself
into some foreign land and eat the bread of poverty
among a free people." "The great ignominy of a
whole kingdom's lying so long at mercy, under so
vile an adversary, is such a deplorable aggravation
that the utmost expressions of shame and rage are
too low to set it forth; and therefore I shall leave it
to receive such a resentment as is worthy of a par-
liament."
The history of the whole affair is so curious that
a brief statement of facts will add greatly to the in-
terest we feel in the dean's unprecedented popularity
and political success. It seems to have begun in
corruption as it must have ended in fraud. The
emoluments from the disposal of the patent were
given by lord Sunderland to the duchess of Kendal,
who sold it to Wood:-
Such a worm was Will Wood, when he scratch'd at the door
Of a governing statesman or favourite w-re."
The duke of Bolton, then lord-lieutenant, wanted
boldness to bring the project forward; but the duke
of Grafton, his successor, gave his promise to support
it. Walpole, on coming into power, though aware
of the difficulties in the way, permitted the measure
to take its course. Lord Middleton, the Irish chan-
cellor, on the other hand, opposed it; a new quarrel
sprung up between him and the lord-lieutenant,
fomented by the arts of Carteret, who was intriguing
for Walpole's removal. The foolish boasting of Wood
was calculated to embarrass the promoters of the
measure; and to put a climax to the absurdity of all
parties engaged, the patent was granted without be-
ing submitted to the privy council. Discord and dis-
sension soon spread through Ireland on this intelli-
gence, and the duke of Grafton was speedily recalled
From desire to supplant Walpole he had acted with
the opposition, but was now anxious to bring over lord
Middleton to his views. In this however he failed,
and the patent was ultimately surrendered. To have
forced it upon the people of Ireland, Swift conceived,
would have proved a deathblow to the independence
JONATHAN SWIFT.
ܙܐ
of the kingdom; and this operated as another in-
centive to strain every nerve to oppose it. But this
argument it was dangerous to avow; and when in his
fourth letter he treated of it simply as an abstract
question, the arm of government was immediately
raised to strike.
"Who, while they strive the more success to gain
Should find their labour and their hopes are vain.'
'
"I remember to have heard the late Hawkin
Browne say that the Drapier's Letters' were the
most perfect pieces of oratory ever composed since
the days of Demosthenes. And indeed upon com
the two writers. They both made use of the plainest
words, and such as were in most general use, which
they adorned only by a proper and beautiful arrange-
ment of them. They both made use of the most
obvious topics, which by the force of genius they
placed in a new light. They were equally skilful
in the arrangement and closeness of their arguments;
equally happy in the choice and brevity of their al-
lusions; each so entirely master of his art as entirely
to conceal the appearance of art, so that they seized
on the passions by surprise.
Soon after lord Carteret's arrival in Ireland a pro-parison there will appear a great similitude between
clamation was issued offering a reward of 3007. for
the discovery of the author of the fourth "Drapier's
Letter." The printer was imprisoned and a bill of
indictment ordered to be prepared.
Swift upon
this came to his friend Harding's relief, with his
short but "Seasonable Advice to the Grand Jury,"
copies of which were distributed to every person of
the jury before the bill, and produced so powerful a
sensation that it was unanimously thrown out. The
chief-justice Whitshed discharged the jury in a rage,
but it availed nothing, for the next that was sum-
moned drew up a strong presentment in suĮ port of
the opinions contained in the "Drapier's Letters,"
in language still more decisive. The same fate at-
tended various others in different counties; the mea-
sure was soon known to be desperate even in the
eyes of its projectors; and never was national ex-
ultation more loudly expressed at its final rejection.
The drapier was hailed on all sides as the liberator
of his country; his name resounded through the
island; his picture became the favourite sign of
every country inn, was treasured in every house,
and even exhibited and cried about in the streets.
con-
"Whoever," says Sheridan, "examines the 'Dra-
pier's Letters' with attention, will find that the great
talents of Swift never appeared in a more
spicuous light than on this occasion. He saw that
a plan was formed by the British minister to bring
his country into the utmost distress. Notwithstand-
ing the apparent opposition given to it by the Irish.
parliament and privy council, he knew too well the
servile disposition of all men at that time in office,
and their abject dependence on the minister, to sup-
pose they would continue firm in their opposition.
at the certain loss of their places, if he was deter.
mined to carry the point. He saw, therefore, no
possible means of preventing the evil but raising
such a spirit in the whole body of the people as
would make them resolve on no account whatever
to receive this coin. His writings in the character
of a drapier were in such plain language, and in
such an easy series from simple and evident prin-
ciples, as carried the fullest conviction to every mind.
But as it was necessary to his purpose to rouse the
feelings as well as convince the understandings of
mankind, without ever appearing at all to apply to
the passions, he raises them to the highest pitch by
seemingly casual strokes here and there interspersed.
So that the whole, on a transient view, appeared
what it professed to be-the work of an honest shop-
keeper, of plain common sense, who started out of
his sphere to commeuce writer upon a view of the
imminent danger with which his country was threat-
ened; and who could not now and then suppress
the honest indignation which rose in his breast at
the unparalleled insolence of power in treating a
great and loyal kingdom with such indignity as
would have been thought intolerable even by the
inhabitants of the Isle of Man. Yet plain and simple
as these writings seem to be at first view, and which
as every common reader would imagine he could
produce himself, upon a closer inspection they would
be found to be works of the most consummate skill
and art; and whoever should attempt to perform the
like would be obliged to say with Horace,-
"Sudet multum, frustraque laboret,
Quivis speret idem '
I
"One passage, indeed, is so admirable an instance
of the species of excellence above described as to re-
quire no apology for bringing it here before the
reader. I am very sensible, he says, in his as-
sumed character, that such a work as I have un-
dertaken might have worthily employed a much
better pen; but when a house is attempted to be
robbed, it often happens that the weakest in the
family runs first to stop the door. All my assistance
were some informations from an eminent person,
whereof I am afraid I have spoiled a few by endea-
vouring to make them of a piece with my own pro-
ductions, and the rest I was not able to manage.
was in the case of David, who could not move in
the armour of Saul; and therefore chose to attack
this uncircumcised Philistine (Wood I mean) with
a sling and a stone. And I may say for Wood's
honour, as well as my own, that he resembles Goliat,
in many circumstances very applicable to the pre-
sent purpose: for Goliah had a helmet of brass upon
his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail, and
the weight of the coat was 5000 shekels of brass
and he had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a
target of brass between his shoulders. In short, he
was like Mr. Wood, all over brass, and he defied the
armies of the living Gei. Goliah's conditions of
combat were likewise the same with those of Wood:
if he prevail against us then shall we be his servants;
but if it happens that I prevail over him, I renounce
the other part of the condition; he shall never be a
servant of mine, for I do not think him fit to be
trusted in any honest man's shop.'
He
Nothing," continues his able biographer, "showed
the generalship of Swift in a higher point of view dur-
ing this contest than his choice of ground, both for
attack and defence. He well knew of what import-
ance it was to steer clear of party, and that, if he
had attacked the British minister as the real author,
promoter, and abettor of this project, he would im-
mediately have been stigmatized with the name of Ja
cobite, and his writings of course disregarded.
therefore treated the matter all along as if there
were no other parties concerned but Wilham Wovd,
hardwarɛman, on the one side, and the whole king-
dom of Ireland on the other. Nay he went farther;
and finding that Wood in his several publications
had often made use of Mr. Walpole's name, he took
upon him the defence of the latter in several passages
of his fourth letter, which he concludes thus: But
I will now demonstrate beyond all contradiction
that Mr. Walpole is against this project of Mr.
Wood, and is an entire friend to Ireland, only by
this one invincible argument; that he has the uni-
versal opinion of being a wise man, an able minis-
ter, and in all his proceedings pursuing the true in-
terest of the king his master; and that, as his integrity
lxvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
is above all corruption, so is his fortune above all
temptation.' By the use of this irony, a double-
edged weapon which he knew how to manage with
peculiar dexterity, his argument cut both ways. To
the bulk of readers it might pass for a real acquittal
of Mr. Walpole of the charge brought against him,
which would answer one end; and to those of more
discernment it obliquely pointed out the true object
of their resentment; but this so guardedly, that it
was impossible to make any serious charge against
the author of his having such a design."
Swift was known from this time by the appella- |
tion of The Dean. He was honoured by the populace
as the champion, patron, and instructor of Ireland;
and gained such power as, considered both in its ex-
tent and duration, scarcely any man has ever enjoyed
without greater wealth or higher station.
He was
from this important year the oracle of the traders
and the idol of the rabble, and by consequence was
feared and courted by all to whom the kindness of
the traders or the populace was necessary. The
Drapier was a sign; the Drapier was a health; and
which way soever the eye or the ear was turned,
some tokens were found of the nation's gratitude to
the Drapier. The benefit was indeed great. He
had rescued Ireland from a very oppressive and pre-
datory invasion; and the popularity which he had
gained he was diligent to keep, by appearing for-
ward and zealous on every occasion when the public
interest was supposed to be involved. Nor did he
much scruple to boast his influence; for when, upon
some attempt to regulate the coin, archbishop Boul-
ter, then one of the justices, accused him of exaspe-
rating the people, he exculpated himself by saying,
"If I had lifted up my finger they would have torn
you to pieces." (Johnson.)
Through the medium likewise of his "Drapier's
Letters," the dean took occasion to declare his real
political opinions from the period when so many im-
portant changes had taken place. They were such as
to dispel every suspicion thrown upon him by his ene-
mies, of his perfect consistency, loyalty, and attach-
loyalty, and attach-
ment to the house of Hanover. He expressed both his
contempt and repugnance for the pretender, and suc-
ceeded in removing the prejudices conceived against
him in high quarters, from the idle charge of his being
a secret Jacobite and disaffected to the new succession.
During the publication of his famous letters it is
known that Swift studiously concealed himself from
being known as the author. The only persons at
first cognizant of the fact are said to have been
Robert Blakely, his butler, whom he employed as
his amanuensis, and Dr. Sheridan. Robert not being
greatly experienced in his art, the copies were inva-
riably delivered by him to the doctor, to receive his
corrections before they were sent to the press. They
were then conveyed by the former to the printer in
a manner to prevent any discovery of the authorship,
but it one day happened that Blakely staid out later
than usual; and, as if to give his absence a stronger
appearance of treachery, it was upon the very day the
proclamation was issued offering a reward of 3007.
for the detection of the author of the fourth letter.
The dean ordered the door to be locked at the usual
hour and shut him out. The next morning the poor
fellow appeared before his master with marks of great
sorrow; but Swift would listen to none of his ex-
cuses. He not only rated him soundly, but ordered
him to strip off his livery and quit his house that
moment. "What, you villain!" he exclaimed, “is
it because I am in your power you dare to take these
libertics? Get out of my house, you scoundrel, and
receive the reward of your treachery." It seems that
Stella, then at the deanery, became so much alarmed
that she sent off for Dr. Sheridan, who upon his ar-
rival found Robert walking about the hall in great
agitation and shedding abundance of tears.
Upon
inquiry into the cause, he was informed of what had
taken place; and bade the poor fellow not to de-
spair nor leave the house, for that he would pacify
the dean: "That is not what vexes me," was Blake-
ly's reply, "though I should be sorry to lose so good
a master; but what grieves me to the soul is that he
should have so bad an opinion of me as to believe
me capable of betraying him for any reward in the
world.
world." This was immediately repeated by Sheri-
dan to the dean, who, struck with the generosity of
the sentiment, not only forgave but restored him to
more than his former favour. He took an opportu-
nity also of rewarding him for his good feeling and
fidelity; for the office of verger becoming vacant,
Swift inquired of Robert if he had any clothes that
were not a livery. Being answered in the affirma-
tive, he bade him instantly put them on after strip-
ping his livery. The poor fellow fell on his knees,
requesting to know what new crime he had com-
mitted to deserve such a punishment. "Well! do
as I order you," was the dean's answer; and upon
Robert again appearing in plain clothes, he sum-
moned the other servants, and informed them they
were no longer to consider him as Robert their fel-
low-servant, but as Mr. Blakely, verger of St.
Patrick's cathedral, a place bestowed upon him as a
reward for his faithful services. But at Mr. Blakely's
particular request, he continued as a volunteer to
officiate also in his old capacity, although the dean
would by no means permit him to assume any badge
of servitude. He also took care that he was remune-
rated for both.
Numerous other anecdotes have been repeated re-
lating to the appearance of the famous Letters, and
the following is given upon the authority of She-
ridan, who received it from a respectable German
merchant (Mr. Hoffslegar), then a resident in Dublin.
There was a full levee held at the castle the day
subsequent to the proclamation against the drapier,
which had already become the general topic of all
circles. The lord-lieutenant was in the act of going
round the circle when the dean abruptly entered the
room, and, pushing his way through the crowd, ad-
dressed the lord-lieutenant-his countenance bearing
marks of the strongest indignation-in a voice that
resounded through the place: "So, my lord, this is a
glorious exploit that you performed yesterday, in
suffering a proclamation against a poor shopkeeper,
whose only crime is an honest endeavour to save his
country from ruin. You have given a noble spe-
cimen of what this devoted nation is to hope for
from your government. I suppose you expect a statue
of copper will be erected to you for this service done
to Wood." The effect of this double meaning and pun
at the same time had an instantaneous effect upon
the risible powers of the fashionable audience; and
it was doubly relished by the lord-lieutenant himself,
both a scholar and a man of taste; but the dean
continued to read him a severe lecture upon the folly
and impolicy of supporting a measure so detrimental
to the best interests of the country. The incipient
mirth of the titled slaves was soon lost in silence and
astonishment at the terrific lashes of Swift's un-
sparing satire; and he is described as awing them
into a sense of their native littleness, like so many
Lilliputians in the presence of the great captain
Gulliver at a court scene. For some moments a
profound silence ensued, when the lord-lieutenant,
who had listened with great composure, made the
following fine and elegant application of Virgil's
line to the case in hand :-
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxvi
* Res duræ et regni novitas me talia cogunt
Moliri-"
""
My cruel fate,
And doubts attending an unsettled state,
Force me,
י-
a reply which struck the whole assembly with its ap-
propriate and dexterous use, and without any serious
and severe retort assisted the speaker at the right
moment and in the manner he most wished, especi-
ally in the instance of Swift; and all present equally
extolled the nagnanimity of the one, and the just
and forcible reply given by the other in so grave a
matter.
The patent being withdrawn, and all apprehen-
sions as to the introduction of the coin being over,
Swift retired to Quilca, a house of Dr. Sheridan's,
where he spent some months in finishing and pre-
paring his "Gulliver's Travels" for the press. It
was probably with some views regarding its publi-
cation, and from the extreme earnestness with which
his English friends urged him to try the benefit of a
change of air, that in 1726 the dean again visited
England, after an absence of twelve years. He was
received with the most gratifying marks of attention,
for the attachment of those who had previously
known him seemed rather to have increased than
diminished by time. All expressed the warmest
wishes that he would leave Ireland and settle among
them; and several plans are believed to have been
proposed to accomplish this object. Swift had al-
ways considered England as his own country, and
been anxious to make some beneficial transfer of his
Irish interest that would have opened a new sphere
of duties and exertions among the literary and po-
Jitical connexions he had so early formed; and in
case of succeeding he would have made other ar-
rangements, to which he has already alluded, for
spending a portion of his more advanced years in
France and Italy, though it was his wish to close
his days in England. Unfortunately however, he
was obnoxious to the men in power, though by no
means disliked at court, being exactly the reverse of
the situation in which he stood during the bright
and fleeting days of his political ascendancy.
Upon the present occasion he met with no unfavour-
able reception at Leicester-house. The princess of
Wales, afterwards queen Caroline, was fond of patron-
ising men of genius and science for the sort of reputa-
tion it gave to her station and for the promotion of her
views; and, slight as it was, Swift had no better ground
upon which to raise a hope of future success. Upon
hearing of Swift's arrival in London she intimated
her desire to have an interview with the author of
the "Drapier's Letters;" and in a letter to his friend
lady Betty Germaine he has left the following ac-
count of it in his own words (1732-3):-" It is six
years last spring since I first went to visit my friends
in Eugland after the queen's death. Her present
majesty heard of my arrival, and sent at least nine
times to command my attendance before I would
obey her, for several reasons not hard to guess, and,
among others, because I had heard her character
from those who knew her well. At last I went, and
she received me very graciously." The princess ap-
pears to have been struck with the novelty of such
a character; and being highly entertained with his
peculiar vein of humour, "she was never weary,"
says Sheridan, "of sending for him, both in London
and Richmond; while Swift, to keep up his conse-
quence, never once attended her but by command.”
Mrs. Howard, first lady of the bedchamber and her
chief favourite, was the person who usually sent for
him. As a lady of fine taste and uncommon under-
standing, she soon contracted a high esteem for Swift,
which was matured into a fiiendship by the frequent
opportunities she had of conversing with him in
company with Pope and Gay, who were her great
favourites. These peculiar marks of esteem and the
evident pleasure taken by the princess in Swift's
society, added to the general conversation respecting
the dean at court, naturally led his friends to con-
clude that the first opportunity would be taken to
make some handsome provision for him in England,
though, from his long experience of courts and his
numerous disappointments, he was himself by no
means sanguine upon the subject.
During this visit to England his time seems to have
been chiefly spent between Twickenham and Daw-
ley, with his friends Pope and Bolingbroke, where
he met the most eminent wits and politicians of the
day. The occasion of his presence was eagerly seized
upon by Pope and Arbuthnot for completing the
volumes of "Miscellanies," the proceeds from which
he generously relinquished to the former; and as this
was the first time that Swift's works were published
collectively in an authentic shape, the sale was im-
mense, and produced a very considerable sum.
•
Among other pleasant anecdotes connected with
the dean's visits to England is the following charac-
teristic one, which displays the peculiarities of his
character in a very strong and amusing point of view.
It has the merit of being told also (fiom Spence),
in the words of Pope himself:-" Doctor Swift," he
says, "has an odd, blunt way that is mistaken by
strangers for ill-nature. 'Tis so odd that there is no
describing it but by fact. I'll tell you one that first
comes into my head. One evening Gay and I went
to see him you know how intimately we were all
acquainted. On our coming in, Hey-day, gentle-
men,' says the doctor, 'what's the meaning of this
visit? How came you to leave all the great lords
that you are so fond of to come hither to see a poor
dean? Because we would rather see you than any of
them.'Ay! any one that did not know you so well
as I do might believe you. But since you are come
I must get some supper for you I suppose.' 'No,
doctor, we have supped already.' 'Supped already!
that's impossible; why it is not eight o'clock yet.
That's very strange; but if you had not supped I
must have got something for you. Let me see; what
should I have had? A couple of lobsters; ay, that
would have done very well: two shillings-tarts a
shilling: but you will drink a glass of wine with me,
though you have supped so much before your usual
time only to spare my pocket? No: we had rather
talk with you than drink with you.' 'But if you
had supped with me, as in all reason you ought to
have done, you must then have drank with me. A
bottle of wine, two shillings—two and two is four,
and one is five: just two-and-sixpence a piece.
There, Pope; there's half-a-crown for you, and there's
another for you, sir; for I won't save anything by
you, I am determined.' This was all said and done
with his usual seriousness on such occasions; and in
spite of anything we could say to the contrary, he
actually obliged us to take the money." We are in-
formed by Delany also, "that when lady Eustace or
other women of rank joined his table at the deanery,
he used in the same manner to allow them a shilling
a head to provide their own entertainment, and
would stickle hard that only sixpence should be al-
lowed for the brat, as he used to call Miss Eustace,
afterwards married to Mr. Tickell; and from a sense
of justice more refined even than his aversion to
any approach to obligation, when he dined with his
poorer friends he uniformly insisted upon paying his
club, as at a tavern or a house of public resort."
The popularity it would appear that followed
Swift's frequent interviews, during this visit, with
lxviii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
the princess, at court, drew the attention of the pre-
mier, who entertained no friendly feelings towards
the dean, and between whom there were too many
points of disagreement ever to expect a complete or
cordial co-operation. But as it was the fashion then
to praise the dean for his social qualities and good
nature, Walpole so far chimed in with the popular
feeling as to show his maguanimity in affecting to
forget what he never could forgive-the bitter irony
and artful exhibition of his weak points to public
derision and contempt.
"For never can true reconcilement grow
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep."
In another of the dean's letters to lady Germaine
(Jan. 8, 1722-3) he observes, as if the advances had
come from the side of sir Robert, "Walpole was at
that time very civil to me, and so were all the people
in power.
He invited me and some of my friends
to dine with him at Chelsea. After dinner I took
an occasion to say what I had observed of princes
and great ministers, that if they heard an ill thing
of a private person that expected some favour, al-
though they were afterwards convinced that the per-
son was innocent, yet they would never be recon-
ciled. Mr. Walpole knew well enough that I meant
Mr. Gay, but he gave it another turn, for he said
to some of his friends, and particularly to a lord, a
near relation of yours, that I had dined with him,
and had been making apologies for myself." "
a
Subsequent to this polite attention, apparently
with the specious view of throwing odium upon
Swift's character for honour and consistency, sir
Robert appointed another interview with the dean
upon the subject of Irish grievances, and a most un-
generous use also was made by the premier's parti-
sans of this incident, to represent Swift as demeaning
himself by solicitations for his own advantage.
Much has been said also of a letter from Swift, in-
tercepted by sir Robert's spics, containing injurious
reflections upon the premier and admissions of his
own utter want of spirit and principle; and another
letter from a Mr. Roberts is still pointed to as an
authentic document, upon grounds equally strong
and probable. It would be fortunate if we could
always trace such slanders to their source; but the
chief movers are careful to envelop themselves in
mystery, and all that can be done in nine cases out of
ten is to give the statement of the injured party, and
as clear a statement of the facts of the whole pro-
ceeding as the details left on record will admit.
First, it appears that lord Peterborough, in a note
to Swift a little previous to the date of the dean's
letter that follows, observes, "Sir Robert Walpole,
any morning except Tuesday and Thursday, which
are his public days, about nine in the morning, will
be glad to see you at his London house. On Mon-
day, if I see you, I will give you a farther account.”
This interview, through the intervention of his lord-
ship, took place subsequent to Walpole's courteous
invitation of the dean, so that, if he retained
any
vindictive feelings, as the savage assaults he and his
friends made upou Swift in the house of commons
indicated, nothing could effect the object of defama-
tion more surely than a private interview, which
left either party to allege whatever he pleased. It
will be only justice to give the version of the party
aspersed, which we are to conclude was made up of
A
"He had written," says Swift, "a very ingenious book of
fables for the use of the princess's younger son, and she had
often promised to provide for him (Gay). But some time be-
fore, there came out a libel against Mr. Walpole, who was in-
formed it was written by Mr. Gay; and although Mr. W. owned
he was convinced that it was not written by Gay, yet he never
would pardon him, and did him a hundred ill offices to the
princess."
|
+6
a series of ingenious fictions, to cover his own dis-
grace, if we are to credit the allegations made upor
the other side. The letter is addressed to lord Pe-
terborough, two days after the celebrated interview
that, in one moment, according to the minister's par-
tisaus, exhibited the great author of the Drapier's
Letters," the bold, lofty-minded, and consistent
friend of Harley and Bolingbroke, the companion of
Pope and Addison, and the patron of merit and
good conduct wherever he found them, as the mean
toad-cater of a man who hated him-as a renegade,
and the most wretched of drivellers, bent upon stul-
tifying himself. Now what is Swift's own plain,
straightforward narrative of the affair; but, in the
opinion of his traducers, so ingeniously got up as
almost to rival the happy stories of Gulliver himself?
We must also remember that it was written imme-
diately after the interview with sir Robert Walpole:
"April 28, 1726.
"MY LORD,-Your lordship having at my request
accordingly attended him yesterday, at eight o'clock
obtained for me an hour from sir Robert Walpole, I
in the morning, and had somewhat more than an
hour's conversation with him. Your lordship was
this day pleased to inquire what passed between
that great minister and me, to which 1 gave you some
general answers, from whence you said you could
comprehend little or nothing.
"I had no other design in desiring to see sir Ro-
bert Walpole than to represent the affairs of Ireland
to him in a true light, not only without any view to
myself, but to any party whatsoever; and because I
understood the affairs of that kingdom tolerably well,
and observed the representations he had received
were such as I could not agree to; my principal de-
sign was to set him right, not only for the service of
Ireland, but likewise of England and his own ad-
ministration.
conceived opinions, from the examples of the present
"I failed very much in my design; for I saw he
and some former governors, which I could not re-
concile to the notions I had of liberty; a possession
always understood by the British nation to be the
inheritance of a human creature.
"Sir Robert Walpole was pleased to enlarge very
much upon the subject of Ireland, in a manner so
alien from what I conceived to be the rights and
privileges of a subject of England, that I did not
think proper to debate the matter with him so much
as I otherwise might, because I found it would be
in vain.'
The portion that follows has no relation to his
discourse with Walpole, but consists of an enumera-
tion of the particular grievances under which Ireland
laboured; and the only additional reference is at the
conclusion, where he says, "I most humbly entreat
your lordship to give the paper to sir Robert Wal-
pole, and to desire him to read it, which he may do
in a few minutes."
But perhaps the strongest of all the testimonies in
favour of Swift is the silence of the members of the
Walpole family, and of their chief biographer, Mr
Coxe, who, however severe upon the dean in other
respects, stop and falter here, nor dared by adopting
and giving culation to the calumny to challenge
an investigation of the truth Sheridan, sir Walter
Scott, and all the most impartial and enlightened
writers who have treated upon this passage of the
dean's history, have arrived at the same conclusion,
not only upon general grounds, but after minute
and particular investigation of the case. It will not
be uninteresting in so important a matter briefly to
give their views of an affair which in the present
day has producel more impression than it at all de
JONATHAN SWIFT
lxix
"I
served, and includes parties weak and prejudiced
enough to note down for posterity the dean of St.
Patrick as a self-convicted renegade and a fool.
would have those gentlemen," says Sheridan, "con-
sider, in the first place, what little credit they do to
sir Robert's understanding in declining the assist-
ance of the first writer of the age, at a time when he
was throwing away immense sums upon authors of
mean talents. In the next place, it is to be hoped
that candour will oblige them to retract what they
have said, as so convincing a proof is here produced
of the falsehood of the charge. For it is impossible
to suppose that Swift would have made such a re-
presentation of the interview, utterly disclaiming all
views to himself, and desiring that it might be shown
to Walpole, if the other had it in his power to con-
tradict it, and by so doing render him contemptible
in the eyes of his noble friend, as well as of all his
adherents. I have a letter before me written at that
time to the Rev. Mr. Stopford, then abroad at Paris
(afterwards, through his means, bishop of Cloyne),
in which he gives the same account :
'I was lately
twice with the chief minister; the first time by invi-
tation, the second at my desire, for an hour, wherein
we differed in every point; but all this made a great
noise, and soon got to Ireland. From whence, on
the late death of the bishop of Cloyne, it was said I
was offered to succeed, and I received many letters
upon it, but there was nothing of truth in it; for I
was neither offered nor would have received, except
upon conditions which would never be granted. For
absolutely broke with the chief minister, and have
never seen him since. And I lately complained of
him to the princess, because I knew she would tell
him.'
"I think it is hardly probable that Swift could
have complained of him to the princess if he had
such a story to tell of him. His complaint cer-
tainly related to Walpole's unjust and impolitic
maxims with regard to Ireland, which was the sole
subject of his discourse. And it appears that he had
often, in his conversations with the princess, repre-
sented the cruel hardships under which that country
groaned, insomuch that in a letter to lady Suffolk
(July 24, 1731) he says,Her majesty gave me
leave and even commanded me, above five years
ago, if I lived until she was queen, to write to her
on behalf of Ireland: for the miseries of this king-
dom she appeared then to be concerned.'
"Sir Robert himself never dropped any hint of
this to Swift's friends, but in appearance seemed to
wish him well. In a letter from Pope to him soon
after his departure for Ireland, he tells him, I had
a conference with sir Robert Walpole, who expressed
his desire of having seen you again before you left
us: he said he observed a willingness in you to live
among us, which I did not deny; but at the same
time told him you had no such design in your
coming, which was merely to see a few of those that
you loved; but that indeed all those wished it, and
particularly lord Peterborough and myself, who
wished you loved Ireland less, had you any reason
to love England more.'
"Whoever examines all Swift's letters at that
time will find that he was far from having any am-
bitious views. His wish was to have a settlement
among his friends; and he aimed no higher than to
change his preferments in Ireland for any church-
living near them, that should not be much inferior
in point of income, whether accompanied with any
dignity or not. And this method of commuting
benefices he chose, to avoid laying himself under
any obligations to a party of whose measures he so
utterly disapproved. Of this we have a striking in-
stance in the above-mentioned letter to an intimate
friend, then abroad, to whom a false representation
of his sentiments could have answered no end;
where he declares that he would not accept even of
a bishopric though offered him, except upon con-
ditions which he was sure would never be granted.
In a letter about that time to Mr. Worrall he ex-
presses himself to the same effect: As to what
you say about promotion, you will find it was given
immediately as I am told, and I assure you I had
no offers, nor would accept them. My behaviour
to those in power hath been directly contrary since
I came here.'
"Hints and innuendoes were sufficient materials
for Walpole's tools to work upon, and fabricate
what stories they pleased, which were industriously
propagated with the strongest asseverations of their
truth by all their partisans; and this was one fa-
vourite method then in use of undermining those
characters which they could not openly assault.
Of this there was a strong instance given in regard
to William Shippin, the honestest man and truest
patriot that ever sat in the house.
When Walpole
found, after repeated trials, that his virtue was proof
against all the offers he could make, it was given
out by his emissaries that he privately received a
pension from him, and that he was permitted to act
the part of a patriot in order to keep his influence
with his party, on certain occasions, that he might
be of more effectual use in matters of greater con-
cern. And this report was so industriously spread,
and with such confidence, that many gave credit to
it during his life. Nor were they undeceived till it
was found that, after his death, this worthy man,
who had lived with the utmost frugality, left no
more behind him than his paternal estate, which
was barely sufficient to entitle him to a seat in par-
liament, and 507. in cash, peculiarly appropriated to
the charges of his funeral."
The following account of this singular interview
from the pen of the
of the distinguished author of
"Waverley" will be read with feeling by all who
know how to reverence genius of the loftiest order,
free from every tincture of envy or malignity,
vindicating pre-eminent and congenial powers of
intellect from the low worldly-minded aspersions
of beings who can imagine no purer or higher
motives of human action than the successful in-
trigues and corruptions of a time-serving minister
can supply. "He never," says sir W. Scott, "as-
sumed, and probably disdained, the character of a
mere man of letters, whose sufferings or enjoyments
depended upon the public reception of his works.
His writings he only valued in so far as they accom-
plished the object for which they were written, and
was so far from seeking the reputation which they
might have attracted to the author, that he almost
in every instance sent them into the world without
his name. Hence he felt no jealousy of contem-
porary authors, and was indifferent to the criticism
with which his treatises were assailed, unless in so
far as it affected the argument which they were de-
signed to support. Bred under Temple, the favourite
of Oxford, and now the champion of Ireland, his
hopes and fears were for the political interests which
he espoused; his love was for party-friends, and
his hatred and vengeance for political opponents.
His feelings were those of a statesman, not of an
author, and had been exalted from the cause of a
party to be fixed upon the liberties of a nation. The
pecuniary emoluments of literature Swift seems
never to have coveted. . . . . He was engaged in
matters of more momentous importance.
"We have observed that Walpole, now the omni-
Ixx
LIFE AND WORKS OF
A
"
•
potent prime minister, had violently assaulted Swift,
in the house of commons, during the ministry of
Oxford. Of this the dean retained no vindictive re-
collection; for during the whole controversy about
Wood's project he treated the character of Walpole
with considerable respect.
Ere the dean
had left that kingdom [Ireland] the primate, Boul-
ter, to whom Walpole chiefly confided the efficient
power in Irish affairs, had written to the English
minister in the following terms:- The general report
The general report
is that dean Swift designs for England in a little
time; and we do not question his endeavours to
misrepresent his majesty's friends bere, wherever he
finds an opportunity. But he is so well known, as
well as the disturbances he has been the fomenter of
in this kingdom, that we are under no fear of his
being able to disserve any of his majesty's faithful
servants, by anything that is known to come from
him; but we could wish some eye were had to what
shall be attempted on your side the water.' This
was quite enough to put Walpole on his spy and
maligning system, and hence doubtless the insidious
court which he paid the dean, to draw him from the
increasing influence he was acquiring at court, and
attempt to ruin him in the estimation of all parties,
as he had done in other cases where an incorruptible
front was opposed to his threats and bribes.
Thus prepossessed against all that might come
from the author of the Drapier's Letters,' Walpole
turned a deaf ear to the grievances of Ireland; and
complaining that the king derived little revenue from
that kingdom, proceeded to enlarge upon the opi-
nions which he had adopted from its governors, in a
manner which Swift deemed inconsistent with the
notions of liberty which Britous have ever consi-
dered as the inheritance of a human creature. The
minister and patriot parted on terms of mutual civil-
ity, but without having made the least impression
on each other's opinions.
It need scarce
be remarked that the most brazen effrontery would
not have ventured in such a letter, to be so commu-
nicated (to Walpole), to conceal or misrepresent
what had passed between them; and that the account
so given, and never contradicted, must contain the
genuine record of this remarkable conversation.
•
"An unworthy use was made of this interview,
and of Swift's having accepted the previous invita-
tion of Walpole; as if he had meant to barter his
principles, and offer the minister the support of his
pen, on condition of his being preferred in Eug-
land. This charge requires a short investigation;
for it was countenanced to a certain extent (not as-
serted) by Walpole, and most zealously promulgated
by his partisans. Had such an offer been made, it
must have been worse than folly in Walpole to re-
fuse the assistance of Swift, while he was expend-
ing very large sums to reward the political treatises
of Arnal and Henley; so that, considering the well-
known sagacity of the minister, as well as his un-
scrupulous mode of charming opposition to silence
by the ready mode of corrupt influence, we may
conclude that the offer not being accepted proves
that it was never made. It is certain, indeed, that
Swift would willingly have received from Walpole
an opportunity of exchanging, and even at consider-
able disadvantage, his Irish deanery for some Eng-
lish living, which might have provided for his usual
expenditure, and placed him for life in England.
But this was uniformly opposed by the prime minis-
ter, not because he disdained to purchase the sup-
port of Swift's pen, but because he had little hopes
of laying him under such a weight of obligation as
might have prevented the risk of its being employed
to his prejudice. Swift had declared he was neither
offered nor would have received preferment, except-
ing on such conditions as would never be given to
him. This is perfectly consistent with his desire to
exchange the deanery of St. Patrick's for an English
living; a transaction which might have been ar-
ranged on terms of such advantage to his successor
as should lay Swift under no obligation, and leave
his political conduct free and unfettered. If he would
not accept of a bishopric but on his own terms, he
could be hardly supposed to barter his independence
merely to be translated to a worse living in England
than he already possessed in the sister country. And
admitting that Walpole retained no memory of for-
mer quarrels, he may have believed it by no means.
his interest to bring Swift to England, unless on
such terms as would have made him entirely his
own. Bolingbroke and Pulteney gave him enough
of disturbance, without their forces being augmented
by the keenest satirical writer of the age, whose
friendships and principles were likely to engage him
against the ministers of George I. Walpole, how-
ever, might have acted more wisely by at once and
generously doing what must have gratified Swift,
and trusting to his sense of justice and honour. It is
certain that Pulteney's civilities had as yet failed to
engage the dean in the politics of England; and in
Swift's reply to the advice which Pope delicately in-
sinuates, deprecating his involving himself in party
disputes, and exhorting him to write only for truth,
honour, and posterity, he seems to acquiesce in its
propriety. But ancient friendship for Bolingbroke
and new causes of resentment against Walpole com-
bined to effect a change of his resolution." (Scott's
"Memoirs," i. 321-3.)
The arguments here adduced, both general and
particular, must, we think, be deemed conclusive
with regard to the nature of the interview between
a Swift and a Walpole; the respective understand-
ings and the characters of the two being submitted
to a fair and impartial investigation.a
All this however is "sad stuff," as the dean truly
expressed it when inquiring respecting the special
merit of the different coats of arms adopted by his
ancestors, and we are happy to dismiss it "to the
tomb of all the Capulets" in exchange for some better
or pleasanter subjects. Among the characteristic
anecdotes related of Swift's interviews with the
princess, the following shows how greatly the dean
possessed the art of making himself agreeable to
parties of whatever rank, and of placing them in the
position of lord Oxford, who frequently declared that
he was not able to keep anything from him. When
presented at Leciester-house, he said, alluding to the
wild man caught in the woods of Hanover, "that he
understood her royal highness loved oddities; and
that having lately seen a wild boy from Germany,
she was now desirous of seeing a wild dean from
Ireland." The freedom of the dean's address was
well received both by the princess and her consort;
and we have shown, from his first introduction, when
before in England, he was so far a favourite with the
a To put a climax to the folly and improbability of so dis-
graceful a charge, an anecdote is related by Sheridan, received
from Dr. Clarke, his tutor in the college, among several others
collected by him relating to Swift:-When lord Chesterfield
was lord-lieutenant of Ireland he said that to his knowledge
Swift made an offer of his pen to sir R. Walpole; that the terms
were his getting a preferment in England equal to what he had
in Ireland; and that sir Robert rejected the offer; which lord
Chesterfield said he would not have done had he been in sir
Robert's place." The whole of this transaction seems extremely
improbable, particularly what he added, that the person who
introduced him was the famous Chartres. Good heavens !
Swift brought by the notorious Chartres to prostitute himself te
ship kept very bad company in those days; I have not the
Walpole; and this asserted by lord Chesterfield. But his lord
least doubt that this story was told him by Chartres.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxi
princess and every gay and fashionable circle as might
well have authorized more ambitious projects than
he seems ever to have entertained, in the event of his
royal friends and patrons-then no great friends of
Walpole-succeeding, as they would probably do at
no distant period, to the throne. The dean while in
England devoted his leisure moments to the revision
of the MS. of "Gulliver's Travels ;" and was enjoy-
ing himself at Twickenham, in the society of his
old and best beloved friends, in a manner that re-
miuded him of the pleasantest epoch of his life;
Bolingbroke had returned from exile; Pope, Ar-
buthnot, Gay, Bathurst, not only received him with
open arms, but brought their most esteemed friends
and connexions to admire and honour hum in the
novel character of the patriot of Ireland; when tidings
reached him which threw a damp on all his hopes
and made him silently and sorrowrully withdraw
himself from the intellectual circles of Twickenham
and Dawley.
(
"The pleasure of popularity," says Johnson, "was
interrupted by domestic misery. Mrs. Johnson, whose
conversation was to him the great softener of the ills
of life, began in the year of the drapier's triumph
to decline, and two years afterwards so wasted
with sickness that her recovery was considered as
hopeless. Swift was then in England, and had been
invited by lord Bolingbroke to pass the winter with
him in France; but this call of calamity hastened
him to Ireland, where perhaps his presence contri-
buted to restore her to imperfect and tottering health."
"His letters on this melancholy subject," says Scott,
"are a true picture of an agonised heart. Yet even
the approaching calamity did not prevent his clinging
to his peculiar system; and in a letter to Dr. Stopford
he labours to impress on his correspondent that his
agony at parting with Stella was that of friendship, not
of love. He mentioned her as one of the two oldest
and dearest friends' he had in the world, and only
distinguishes her from her gossiping and common-
place companion Mrs. Dingley as the younger of
the two; and concludes by conjuring Stopford to
believe that violent friendship is much more lasting
and as engaging as violent love.' His letter to
Sheridan contains more deep and unrestrained ex-
pressions of anguish :- The account you give me is
nothing but what I have for some time expected with
the utmost agonies. I look upon this to be the greatest
event that can ever happen to me; but all my exertions
will not suffice to make me bear it like a philosopher,
nor altogether like a christian. Judge in what a
temper I write this. The very tinae I am writing I
conclude the fairest soul in the world hath left its
body. I have been long weary of the world, and
shall for my small remainder of days be weary of
life, having for ever lost that conversation which
could only make it tolerable.
4
> >
Swift set out for Ireland in the month of August,
and was received on his arrival with the honours due
to the liberator of the people from the worst of
slavery-that of receiving their small pittance in a
depreciated currency of halfpence and farthings while
their oppressors enrich themselves with the silver and
the gold. Nor was this the soie boon that does immor-
tal honour to his memory; be taught them by union
and success the secret of their inherent power and
future regeneration, to which the efforts of more modern
patriots, for whom he prepared the way, are only as
dust in the balance. His entry into Dublin was like a
triumphal procession; and he was escorted amidst the
ringing of bells, the blaze of bonfires, and the sounds
of feux-de-joie, ty a body of the most respectable
citizens to the very doors of his deanery. This was
the rich reward he most coveted, and that which gare
¦
4
it an additional zest was the partial recovery of his
beloved friend, for whose sake he had left the social
delights he was enjoying in England; he appeared
for the moment reanimated with the glow of his
happiest days, and it was remarked by his friends
that his own health partook of the grateful change.
We observe likewise a more happy and healthy tone
in his correspondence, and he was at the same time not
unpleasingly excited by watching the effect produced
by his "Gulliver's Travels," brought out anony-
mously early in the ensuing November. He had as
usual preserved a strict silence with regard to the
authorship; he had not mentioned it to a single
friend during his visit to England; some of the most
knowing and judicious were thrown off the right
scent, but Pope, Gay, and Arbuthnot (doubtless well
aware of the fact) were soon heard to declare that
it must be aut Erasmi aut Diaboli. They all three
wrote to him upon the subject, but in guarded terms,
as well perhaps to avoid committing either the author
or themselves as to humour the mystery and to try
in what manner he would be inclined to treat their
suggestions as to its real paternity. As there runs
a vein of unaffected pleasantry throughout the
whole of it, and it throws the best light upon the
author's views and the character of the work, we
shall give portions of the correspondence before pro-
ceeding to make observations upon its merits and
peculiarities. In one of these letters (Nov. 17, 1726)
Gay addresses him as follows: "About ten days ago a
book was published here of the Travels of one Gulliver,
which has been the conversation of the whole town
ever since the whole impression sold in a week;
and nothing is more diverting than to hear the differ-
ent opinions people give of it, though all agree in
liking it extremely. 'Tis generally said that you are
the author; but I am told the bookseller declares he
knows not from what hand it came. From the highest
to the lowest it is universally read; from the cabinet
council to the nursery. You may see by this that
you are not much injured by being supposed the
author of this piece. If you are, you have disobliged
us, and two or three of your best friends, in not
giving us the least hint of it. Perhaps I may all this
time be talking to you of a book you have never seen,
and which has not yet reached Ireland; if it have not,
I believe what we have said will be sufficient to re-
commend it to your reading, and that you will order
me to send it to you."
"I have resolved," writes his friend Pope (Nov.
16, 1726), "to take time; and in spite of all mis-
fortunes and demurs which sickness, lameness, or
disability of any kind can throw in my way, to write
you (at intervals) a long letter. My two least fingers
of one hand hang impediments to the other, like
useless dependants, who only take up room, and
never are active or assistant to our wants: I shall
never be much the better for them. I congratulate
you first upon what you call your cousin's wonder-
ful book, which is publica trita manu at present, and
I prophesy will be hereafter the admiration of all
men. That countenance with which it is received
by some statesmen is delightful: I wish I could tell
you how every single man looks upon it, to observe
which has been my whole diversion this fortnight.
I have never been a night in London since you left
me till now for this very end, and indeed it has fully
answered my expectations
"I find no considerable man very angry at the
book; some indeed think it rather too bold, and
too general a satire; but none that I hear of accuse
it of particular reflections (I mean no persons of
consequence or good judgment; the mob of critica
you know always are desirous to apply satire ta
lxxii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
(
those they envy for being above them), so that you
needed not to have been so secret upon this head.
Motte received the copy (he tells me) he knew not
from whence, nor from whom, dropped at his house
in the dark from a hackney coach; by computing
the time I found it was after you left England, so
for my part I suspend my judgment.
"I am pleased with the nature and quality of
your present to the princess. The Irish stuff you
sent to Mrs. Howard her royal highness laid hold
of, and has made up for her own use. Are you de-
termined to be national in everything, even in your
civilities? You are the greatest politician in Europe
at this rate; but as you are a rational politician
there is no great fear of you, you will never suc-
eed."
The passages relating to the work from the pen of
Arbuthnot are of a playful turn, and describe very
happily the impression it made at court and every-
where else, and must have been extremely gratifying
to the author:-
"I will make over all my profits to you for the
property of Gulliver's Travels,' which, I believe,
will have as great a run as John Bunyan. Gulliver
is a happy man, that at his age can write such a
merry work.
"I made my lord archbishop's a compliments to
her royal highness, who returns his grace her thanks;
at the same time, Mrs. Howard read your letter to
herself. The princess immediately seized on your
plaid for her own use, and has ordered the young
princesses to be clad in the same. When I had the
honour to see her she was reading Gulliver, and was
just come to the passage of the hobbling prince,
which she laughed at. I tell you freely the part of
the projectors is the least brilliant. Lewis grumbles
a little at it, and says he wants the key to it, and is
daily refining. I suppose he will be able to publish
like Barnevelt in time. I gave your service to lady
Harvey. She is in a little sort of a miff about a
ballad that was writ on her to the tune of Molly
Mog, and sent to her in the name of a begging poet.
She was bit, and wrote a letter to the begging poet,
and desired him to change two double entendres,
which the authors, Mr. Pulteney and lord Chester-
field, changed to single entendres. I was against
that, though I had a hand in the first. She is not
displeased, I believe, with the ballad, but only with
being bit."
Another, from the dean's friend Mrs. Howard, d
written with great humour and spirit, gives a striking
picture of the intense interest and general attention
which the appearance of so strange and inimitable
a production then excited:
་ November, 1726.
"I did not expect that the sight of my ring would
I was in such a hurry to
produce the effect it has.
show your plaid to the princess that I could not stay
to put it into the shape you desired. It pleased ex-
tremely, and I have orders to fit it up according to
the first design; but as this is not proper for the
public, you are desired to send over, for the same
princess's use, the height of the Brobdingnag dwarf
multiplied by 24. The young princesses must be
taken care of; theirs must be in three shares for a
short method you may draw a line of twenty feet,
Probably archbishop King, of Dublin.
A
b The dean sent a present of some silk plaids from Ireland to
sume of the royal family and to Mrs. Howard.
This refers to "A Key to the Lock; or a Treatise proving
beyond all Contradiction the dangerous Tendency of a late
Poem, entited the Rape of the Lock, to Government and Reli-
gion. By sdras Barnevelt, apothecary."
Indorsed" November, 1726. Answered 17th.”
a
and upon that by two circles form an equilateral
triangle; then measuring each side you will find
the proper quantity and proper division.
If you
want a more particular and better rule, I refer you
to the academy of Lagado. I am of opinion many
in this kingdom will soon appear in your plaid. To
this end it will be highly necessary that care be
taken of disposing of the purple, the yellow, and the
white silks; and though the gowns are for princesses
the officers are very vigilant; so take care they are
not seized. Do not forget to be observant how you
dispose the colours.
dispose the colours. I shall take all particular pre-
cautions to have the money ready, and to return it
the way you judge safest. I think it would be
worth your reflecting in what manner the checker
might be best managed.
"The princess will take care that you shall have
pumps sufficient to serve you till you return to Eng-
land, but thinks you cannot, in common decency,
appear in heels, and therefore advises your keeping
close till they arrive. Here are several Lilliputian
mathematicians, so that the length of your head, or
of your foot, is a sufficient measure. Send it by the
first opportunity. Do not forget our good friends
the 500 weavers. You may omit the gold thread.
Many disputes have arisen here whether the big-
endians and lesser-endians ever differed in opimon
about the breaking of eggs, when they were to be
either buttered or poached? or whether this part of
cookery was ever known in Lilliput ?
"I cannot conclude without telling you that our
island is in great joy; one of our yahoos having
been delivered of a creature, half ram and half
yahoo; and another has brought forth four perfect
black rabbits. May we not hope, and with some
probability expect, that in time our female yahoos
will produce a race of Houyhnhnms? I am, sir,
your most humble servant,
"SIEVE YAHOO."d
The dean, not a little pleased at the reception of his
book, and quite in his element, took infinite delight
in watching its progress and the effect of its strong
political satire and humorous strictures upon princes
and ministers while still affecting mystery he replied
in the saine spirit to the observations of his friends,
keeping up the ball with unfeigned gaiety, and with
equal dexterity and good humour :~~~~
:-
TO MRS. HOWARD.
"November 17, 1726.
"MADAM,-When I received your letter I thought
it the most unaccountable one I ever saw in my life,
and was not able to comprehend three words of it to-
gether. The perverseness of your lines astonished
me, which tended downward to the right in one
page, and upward in the two others. This I thought
impossible to be done by any one who did not squint
with both eyes; an infirmity I never observed in
you. However, one thing I was pleased with, that
after you had writ down you repented, and writ me
up again. But I continued four days at a loss for
your meaning, till a bookseller sent me the 'Travels'
of one captain Gulliver, who proved a very good
explainer, although at the same time I thought it
hard to be forced to read a book of seven hundred
pages in order to understand a letter of fifty lines;
especially as those of our faculty are already but too
a Sec" Gulliver's Travels."
In "Gulliver's Travels" high and low heels are made the dis-
tinction of political parties.-Whig and Tory were alluded to in
this familiar metaphor.
• An impostor called Mary Tofts put such a trick upon the
public.
d Sieve is a name given by Swift, in “Gulliver's Travels," to a
court lady.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxiit
much pestered with commentators.
The stuff's you
tequire are making, because the weaver piques him-
self upon having them in perfection. But he has
read Gulliver's book, and has no conception what
you mean by returning money; for he has become a
proselyte of the Houyhnhnms, whose great principle,
if I rightly remember, is benevolence; and as to
myself, I am so highly offended with such a base
proposal, that I am determined to complain of you
to her royal highness that you are a mercenary yahoo,
fond of shining pebbles. What have I to do with
you or your court, further than to show the esteem I
have for your person, because you happen to deserve
it; and my gratitude to her royal highness, who was
pleased a little to distinguish me? which, by the way,
is the greatest compliment I ever paid, and may pro-
bably be the last; for I am not such a prostitute.
flatterer as Gulliver, whose chief study is to extenu-
ate the vices and magnify the virtues of mankind,
and perpetually dins our ears with the praises of his
country in the midst of corruption, and for that
reason alone has found so many readers, and proba-
bly will have a pension, which I suppose was his
chief design in writing. As for his compliments to
the ladies, I can easily forgive him, as a natural
effect of the devotion which our sex ought always to
pay to yours. You need not be in pain about the
officers searching or seizing the plaids, for the silk
has already paid duty in England, and there is no
law against exporting silk manufacture from hence.
I am sure the princess and you have got the length
of my foot, and sir Robert Walpole says he has the
length of my head, so that I need not give you the
trouble of sending you either. I shall only tell you,
in general, that I never had a long head, and for that
reason few people have thought it worth while to
get the length of my foot. I cannot answer your
queries about eggs, buttered or poached, but I pos-
sess one talent which admirably qualifies me for
roasting them; for as the world with respect to eggs
is divided into pelters and roasters, it is my unhap-
piness to be one of the latter, and consequently to
be persecuted by the former. I have been five days
turning over old books to discover the meaning of
those monstrous births you mention. That of the
four black rabbits seems to threaten some dark court
intrigue, and perhaps, some change in the adminis-
tration; for the rabbit is an undermining animal
that loves to walk in the dark. The blackness de-
notes the bishops, whereof some of the last you
have made are persons of such dangerous parts and
profound abilities: but rabbits, being clothed in
furs, may perhaps glance at the judges. However,
the ram-by which is meant the ministry-butting
with his two horns, one against the church, and the
other against the law, shall obtain the victory. And
whereas the birth was a conjunction of ram and
yahoo, this is easily explained by the story of Chi-
ron, governor, or, which is the same thing, chief
minister, to Achilles, who was half man and half
brute; which, as Machiavel observes, all good go-
vernors of princes ought to be. But I am at the
end of my line, and my lines. This is without a
cover, to save money, and plain paper, because the
gilt is so thin it will discover secrets between us.
In a little room for words I assure you of my being,
with truest respect, madam, your most obedient
humble servant,
"JONATHAN SWIFT."
The next, to his friend Pope, while it rallies the sub-
Ject admirably, is full of the dean's best humour, and
partakes of the fire as well as the wit of his earlier
productions.
VOL. I.
"Dublin, November 17, 1726.
"I am just come from answering a letter of Mrs.
Howard's, writ in such mystical terms that I should
never have found out the meaning if a book had not
been sent me called Gulliver's Travels,' of which
you say so much in yours. I read the book over, and in
the second volume observed several passages which
appear to be patched and altered,ª and the style of a
different sort, unless I am mistaken. Dr. Arbuthnot
;b
likes the projectors least; others, you tell me, the
flying island; some think it wrong to be so hard
upon whole bodies or corporations, yet the general
opinion is, that reflections on particular persons are
most to be blamed: so that in these cases I think
the best method is to let censure and opinion take
their course. A bishop here said that book was fuli
of improbable lies, and for his part he hardly believed
a word of it; and so much for Gulliver.
Going to England is a very good thing, if it were
not attended with an ugly circumstance of returning
to Ireland. It is a shame you do not persuade your
ministers to keep me on that side, if it were but by
a court expedient of keeping me in prison for a
plotter; but at the same time I must tell you that
such journeys very much shorten my life, for a month
here is longer than six at Twickenham.
"How comes friend Gay to be so tedious? Another
man can publish fifty thousand lies sooner than he
can publish fifty fables.
"I am just going to perform a very good office; it
is to assist with the archbishop in degrading a par-
son who couples all our beggars, by which I shall
make one happy man, and decide the great question
of an indelible character in favour of the principles
in fashion; this I hope you will represent to the
ministry in my favour as a point of merit; so fare-
well till I return.
"I am come back, and have deprived the parson,
who, by a law here, is to be hanged the next couple
he marries; he declared to us that he resolved to be
hanged, only desired that when he was to go to the
gallows the archbishop would take off his excom-
munication. Is not he a good catholic? and yet he
is but a Scotchman. This is the only Irish event I
ever troubled you with, and I think it deserves no-
tice. Let me add, that if I were Gulliver's friend I
would desire all my acquaintance to give out that
his copy was basely mangled, and abused, and added
to, and blotted out, by the printer; for so to me it
seems, in the second volume particularly. Adieu."
However whimsical all this affected mystery at first
appears, it was in perfect keeping with Swift's avowed
resolution of sending his works secretly into the
world to make their own way; nor would he consider
himself accountable, or when called upon admit the
authorship, as he has himself stated, with the exception
of having been on one occasion surprised into the
avowal from feelings of pique and vanity; and the
letter to lord Oxford upon the English language, to
which, as to most other letters, he affixed his name.
It is known that he took singular pleasure in hearing
the various opinions of the world-as in the cases of
"Prior's Journey to Paris," and other pieces,--while
he read his own productions and remained unsus-
pected, which he called a bite, and the doubts of
Pope and Gay on many occasions must have afforded
him no small entertainment. "This extraordinary
work," says Sheridan, "bearing the stamp of such
an original and uncommon genius, revived his fame
in England, after so long an absence, and added new
a See the introductory letter from Gulliver to his cousin
Simpson.
b Because he unde stood it to be intended as a satire on the
Royal Society.
ƒ
lxxiv
LIFE AND WORKS OF
The
lustre to his reputation." Perhaps no work," says
sir W. Scott, "ever exhibited such general attractions
to all classes. It offered personal and political satire
to the readers in high life, low and coarse incident
to the vulgar, marvels to the romantic, wit to the
young and lively, lessons of morality and policy to
the grave, and maxims of deep and bitter misanthropy
to neglected age and disappointed ambition. The
plan of the satire varies in the different parts.
Voyage to Lilliput refers chiefly to the court and
politics of England, and sir Robert Walpole is
plainly intimated under the character of the premier
Flimnap, which he afterwards probably remem-
bered to the prejudice of the dean's view of leaving
Ireland. The factions of high-heels and low-heels
express the factions of Tories and Whigs; the small-
endians and big-endians, the religious divisions of
papist and protestant. And when the heir apparent
And when the heir apparent
was described as wearing one heel high and one low,
the prince of Wales, who at that period divided his
favour between the two leading political parties,
laughed very heartily at the comparison.
Blefescu
is France, and the ingratitude of the Lilliputian
court, which forces Gulliver to take shelter there
rather than have his eyes put out, is an indirect re-
proach upon that of England, and a vindication of
the flight of Ormond and Bolingbroke to Paris.
The scandal which Gulliver gave to the empress, by
his mode of extinguishing the flames in the royal
palace, scems to intimate the author's disgrace with
queen Anne, founded upon the indecorum of the
Tale of a Tub,' which was remembered against
him as a crime, while the service which it had ren-
dered the high church was forgotten. It must also
be remarked that the original institutions of the
empire of Lilliput are highly commended, as also
their system of public education; while it is inti-
mated that all the corruptions of the court had been
introduced during the three last reigns. This was
Swift's opinion concerning the English constitu-
tion.
"In the Voyage to Brobdingnag the satire is of a
more general character; nor is it easy to trace any
particular reference to the political events or states-
men of the period. It merely exhibits human
actions and sentiments as they might appear in the
apprehension of beings of immense strength, and, at
the same time, of a cold, reflecting, and philosophical
character. The monarch of these sons of Anak is
designed to embody Swift's ideas of a patriot king,
indifferent to what was curious, and cold to what
was beautiful, feeling only interest in that which
was connected with general utility and the public
weal. To such a prince, the intrigues, scandals,
and stratagems of an European court are represented
as equally odious in their origin and contemptible
in their progress. A very happy effect was also
produced by turning the telescope, and painting Gul-
liver, who had formerly been a giant among the
Lilliputians, as a pigmy amidst this tremendous
Some passages of the court of Brobding-
nag were supposed to be intended as an affront
race.
which
The Lilliputian treasurer's fall from the tight rope
waз broven by one of the king's cushions, seems to jutimate
Walpole's resign tin in 1717, when he was supposed to be
saved from utter disgrace by the interest of the duchess of Ken-
dil. The ridicule thrown upon the orders of knighthood by
the nobles leaping over a stick for the decorations of the blue,
red, and green threads, is principally aimed at Walpole, who,
to enlarge this class o.' honours and rewards, revived the order
of the Bath as a preliminary step to that of the Garter. Upon
that occasion the dean wrote some lines, now published for the
first time, which conclude with the idea more fully brought out
the Travels to Lilliput
And he who'll leap over a stick for the king
Is qualified best for a dog in a string.
|
upon the maids of henour, for whoin Delany informs
us that Swift had very little respect.
"The Voyage to Laputa was disliked by Arbuthnot,
who was a man of science, and probably considered
it as a ridicule upon the Royal Society; nor can it be
denied that there are some allusions to the most
respectable philosophers of the period. An occasional
shaft is even said to have been levelled at sir Isaac
Newton. The ardent patriot had not forgotten the
philosopher's opinion in favour of Wood's halfpence.
Under the parable of the tailor who computed Gul-
liver's altitude by a quadrant, and took his measure
by a mathematical diagram, yet brought him his
clothes very ill made and out of shape, by a mistake
of a figure in the calculation, Swift is supposed to
have alluded to an error of sir Isaac's printer, who,
by carelessly adding a cipher to the astronomer's
computation of the distance between the sun and
the earth, had increased it to an incalculable
amount. Newton published in the Amsterdam
Gazette' a correction of this typographical error,
but the circumstance did not escape the malicious
acumen of the dean of St. Patrick's. It was also
believed by the dean's friends that the office of flap-
per was suggested by the habitual absence of mind
of the great philosopher. The dean told Mrs. D.
Swift that sir Isaac was the worst companion in the
world, and that if you asked him a question
would revolve it in a circle in his brain, round and
round and round, (here Swift described a circle on
his own forehead,) before he could produce an an-
swer.b....
蕾
​•he
"The Voyage to the Land of the Houyhnhnms is a
composition which an editor of Swift must ever con-
sider with pain. The source of such a diatribe against
human nature could only be that fierce indignation
which he has described in his epitaph as so long
gnawing at his heart. Dwelling in a land where he
considered the human race as divided between petty
tyrants and oppressed slaves, and being himself a
worshipper of that freedom and independence which
he beheld daily trampled upon, the unrestrained vio-
lence of his feelings drove him to loathe the very
species by whom such iniquity was done and suf-
fered. To this must be added his personal health,
broken and worn down by the recurring attacks of a
frightful disorder; his social comfort destroyed by
the death of one beloved object and the daily decay
and peril of another; his life decayed into autumn;
and its remainder, after so many flattering and ambi-
tious prospects, condemned to a country which he
disliked, and banished from that in which he had
formed his hopes and left his friendships;-when
all these considerations are combined, they form
some excuse for that general misanthropy which
never prevented a single deed of individual benevo-
lence. Such apologies are personal to the author;
but there are also excuses for the work itself.
picture of the Yahoos, utterly odious and hateful as
it is, presents to the reader a moral use.
never designed as a representation of mankind in
the state to which religion, and even the lights of
"
The
It was
A“ I well remember his making strange reports of the phrase
ologies of persous about the court, and particularly of the
maids of houour, at the time of that visit to England `--Delany's
Remarks. The letters of the beautiful and lively Miss Bellen-
den, lately published in the Suffolk Papers, certainly vindicate
the dean's censure.
b The de in used also to fall of sir Isaac, that his servant hav
ing called him one day to dinner, and returning after waiting
some time. found him mounted on a ladder placed against the
shelves of his library, a book in his left hand, and his head
reclined upon his right, sunk in such a fit of abstraction that he
was obliged, after calling him once or twice, actually to jog him
before he could awake his attention This was precisely the
office of the flapper.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxv
1
+
nature, encourage men to aspire; but of that to
which our species is degraded by the wilful subser-
vience of mental qualities to animal instincts of man,
such as may be found in the degraded ranks of every
society when brutalised by ignorance and gross vice.
In this view, the more coarse and disgusting the
picture, the more impressive is the moral to be de-
rived from it, since, in proportion as an individual
indulges in sensuality, cruelty, or avarice, he ap-
proaches in resemblance to the detested Yahoo."
(Scott's"Memoirs," &c., vol. i. 333-7.)
between the Latin and English churches as not
more important than that between the big-endians
and little-endians. Projects for something like a
union between the churches were not unfrequently
made at the time; and the chances of success for a
season seemed far from desperate. The prince of
Wales, afterwards George II., was believed not to be
indisposed to a union of parties, as is intimated by
the heir-apparent of Lilliput wearing one shoe with
a high and the other with a low heel. All these ex-
pectations were disappointed; but when the 'Travels'
the nation generally looked for great advantages
from their realization. The political views advocated
Lilliput were therefore generally popular; they
gratified the entire body of the Tories, the discon-
tented section of the Whigs, and the great multitude
which in every free state looks for Utopian advan-
tages from the mere fact of change.
"This important year," says Johnson, "sent like-appeared they were rife in every political circle, and
wise into the world 'Gulliver's Travels,' a produc-
tion so new and strange that it filled the reader with
a mingled emotion of merriment and amazement. It
was received with such avidity that the price of the
first edition was raised before the second could be
made; it was read by the high and the low, the
learned and illiterate. Criticism was for a while
lost in wonder; no rules of judgment were applied
to a book written in open defiance of truth and regu-
larity. But when distinctions came to be made, the
part which gave the least pleasure was that which de-
scribes the Flying Island, and that which gave most
disgust must be the history of the Houyhnhnms.'
Nothing can be more interesting than to give
the views of the most celebrated biographers and
commentators of Swift upon a production in every
light so important as that of "Gulliver's Travels,"
upon which his fame as a writer of fiction-
which gives him a rank with Cervantes, Fielding,
Le Sage, Smollett, and Marivaux-so broadly rests.
It is for this reason we are inclined to dilate rather
more upon it than any other single production from
the same pen; for we feel assured that, with all his
skill and ability in political controversy, had the fame
of Swift depended upon temporary topics, or even
upon his humorous satirical poems, he would have
appeared like one of his own Lilliputians, a sort of
pigmy among the giants of genius which the reigns
of Anne and George I. produced. "The Voyage to
Lilliput," observes an able and distinguished com-
mentator upon "Gulliver's Travels," "is an exposure
of the policy of the English court during the reign
of George I. Swift and his friends were persuaded
that the treaty of Utrecht had been the salvation of
Great Britain-that it had especially secured the
naval superiority, and effectually prevented France
from rivalling us at sea. He therefore regarded the
impeachment of Oxford and the banishment of Bo-
lingbroke as gross acts of national injustice, at-
tributable chiefly to the ambition and jealousy of
Walpole, whom he stigmatised under the name of
Flimnap. The more minute political allusions are
pointed out in the notes; it will be more convenient
here to confine attention to generalities. Walpole
had many enemies, even in the nominal Whig party
who professed themselves adherents to the prince of
Wales: these persons, aware that they could not of
themselves form an administration, projected a coa-
lition with the Tories, or, as they called them, the
party of the country gentlemen. In the language
of the day, they hoped to form a broad-bottom
ministry; they affected to describe the differences
between the parties in principle as very trifling, not
greater than that between the high-heels and low-
heels of Lilliput; and as appeals had been made to
religious prejudices, they represented the controversy
(
↑ A new edition by W. C Taylor, LL.D. of Trinity college.
Dublin, with copious notes, a life of the author, and an essay
on satirical fiction, and emiched with upwards of 400 wood
engravings from desigus by Grandville. In his estimate of
Swift's genius and peculiarities we are happy to agree with a
write so esteemed and so acute as Dr. Taylor, but from his
views of the dean's life and character we entirely dissent.
"In Brobdingnag the satire takes a wider range-
the object of assault is changed from the tactics of a
party to the general system of policy. Like Boling-
broke, Swift attempts to sketch the ideal character of
a patriot king and an efficient system of government.
The fiction is very happily suited to the design: the
opinions which beings of a reflective and philosophic
character, endowed with immense force, were likely
to form of the intrigues and scandals of a European
court, are developed with exquisite skill. It is a man
viewing the political squabbles of an ant-hill, or
Gulliver himself estimating the court of Lilliput. The
political principles advocated in the Voyage to Brob-
dingnag were the same as those which the Tory
party supported in parliament. From the imperfec-
tion of the parliamentary reports in these days, and
from the influence of the cry of Jacobitism with
which the Whig leaders assailed their opponents,
we have only very imperfect specimens of Shippen,
Windham, St. Aubin, &c.; but even the fragments
which have been preserved prove that the Tory
party in the reign of George I. was highly respect-
able in character, talent, and fearless advocacy of
principle." ("Biographical Notice," pp. 35-37.)
That the Voyage to the Land of the Houyhnhnms
is inferior as a work of art to those which precede it
is a general opinion expressed by nearly all Swift's
biographers and commentators. But it seems not to
have been distinctly seen that the author's object
was not so much to depict mankind as to expose their
corruption and degeneracy-to point out as a warning
the extent of that wretchedness and depravity to which
the violent and continued passions, and the allure-
ments of ambition, pleasure, and criminal designs,
may impel them. At the same time it must be ad-
mitted that the picture is overcharged, and the
condemnation of too sweeping and unsparing a
character. Where is the sense of a general satire,"
says Warburton, "if the whole species be dege-
nerated; and where is the justice of it, if it be not?”
Voltaire, who was in England at the time when
"Gulliver's Travels" appeared, spread their fame
among his correspondents in France, and the abbé
Desfontaines undertook a translation, which suc-
ceeded extremely with the French public. He even
ventured on the bold step of making a continuation,
"Le Nouveau Gulliver;" and another, which ap-
peared as the third volume of the "Travels," in 1727,
was printed from a French work called "L'Histoire
des Sévérambes;" ascribed to a M. Alletz, though
Bayle had written the "History of the Severambians,"
a sort of republican novel, which Mandeville trans-
lated into English, and which surpasses the Sethos"
of Terasson, or the "Gaudentio di Luca" of the
Italian. That Swift was in some measure indebted
lxxvi
LIFE AND WORKS OF
to preceding works of this kind, as well as to Rabe-
ais, little doubt we think can be entertained; and
a copy of the French Lucian, as he has been called,
with Swift's MS. notes, is known to have been sold
at the sale of his books in 1745. At a later period
of his life Swift is stated to have undertaken a re-
vision of "Gulliver's Travels," and to have made
some bitter additions wherever the law or its pro-
fessors are mentioned. The copy in which these
emendations were madea came into the possession of
Mr. Theophilus Swift, and from him passed into the
hands of the bishop of Ossory; but it is confidently
believed that all or most of the alterations have been
transferred to the latter editions, so as to have be-
come only a matter of literary curiosity.
| pectations of Swift and his friends were doomed to
be disappointed; and to give his own feelings on
this important occasion we extract another passage
from his letter to Dr. Sheridan (Jan. 24, 1727) :-
"The talk is now for a moderating scheme, wherein
nobody shall be used worse or better for being called
Whig and Tory; and the king hath received both
with great equality, showing civilities 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's
and queen's hands. We have now done with re-
pining, 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 the others will have.
a soft fall; although the king must be excessive
generous if he forgives the treatment of some people."
Swift adds, in a letter to lady Betty Germaine,
that upon this occasion he was particularly distin-
|
correct idea of the money-power and low court tact
of Walpole, was very speedily shown by the result.
His baneful star still held the ascendant; and not-
withstanding the coarse, offensive language, too gross
to be repeated, applied to the new queen when
princess, he was reinstated in all his offices, and
appeared with a new skin, more sleek and glossy
than before.
It was to be regretted that Swift's newly-acquired
popularity, however it may have gratified him for a
moment, tended little to soothe the increasing irri-
tability of his mind. His last reception in England
rather added to it by having revived his almost ex-
piring hopes of obtaining a settlement in that king-guished by the queen; but that he had not formed a
dom-" where," as he observes in a letter to Gay,
"he had passed the best and greatest part of his
life, where he had made his friendships and left his
desires." With this view he kept up a correspond-
ence with Mrs. Howard, of whose situation he
availed himself to pay civilities to the princess of
Wales, who had expressed some wish to promote
his removal. "I desire," he says, in his usual frank
but dictatorial tone, you will order her royal
highness to go to Richmond as soon as she can this
summer, because she will have the pleasure of my
neighbourhood; for I hope to be in London by the
middle of March, and I do not love you much when
you are there." Having left Mrs. Johnson in a
somewhat improved state of health, Swift accord-
ingly arrived once more in England about the period
he mentioned. The princess received him with her
usual complacency; but the coolness of Walpole,
as might be expected, had now assumed a more de-
cided character than before. In a letter to his
friend Sheridan he observes, "I have at last seen.
the princess twice this week by her own command;
she retains her old civility, and I my old freedom.
I am in high displeasure with Walpole and his
partisans. A great man who was very kind to me
last year doth not take the least notice of me at
the prince's court, and there has not been one of
them to see me." Swift, however, does not express
his surprise at this change, easy enough to be ac-
counted for in a great minister and a court whose
adherents had been represented in so unfavourable
a light in some passages of his late work-without
seeking other causes of this unhappy enmity, which
not only shut the door of promotion, but of com-
fort and consolation under broken health and de-
clining years. For some time past the dean enter-
tained a design of spending a short time in France
for the recovery of his health, and is said to have
been upon the point of carrying it into execution,
when the death of the king, and an expected change
of measures, induced him to postpone it. The Tories
having, upon the breach between the late king and
the prince, been well received at Leicester-house, it
was supposed they would at all events come in for a
share of the royal favour. But once more the ex-
• From all that can be ascertained, this copy is probably the
same as the one mentioned by Mr. Crofton Croker as having
fallen into the hands of a London bookseller of the name of
Booth, but the original MSS. of nearly all the dean's other
works are now in the possession of Mr. Edmund Swift, the son
of Theophilus Swift, to the last of whom sir W. Scott was so
greatly indebted for much new and valuable matter. Though
little or nothing of au original character remains in the hands
of the present Mr. Swift, the editor in many other respects is
proud to acknowledge his obligations to him.
In a little time, however, Swift entertained less
sanguine expectations, as appears from the following
passage in one of his letters to the same friend
(July 1, 1727):- "Here are a thousand schemes
wherein they would have me engaged, which I em-
braced but coldly, because I liked none of them.'
Having at the same time been afflicted with some
return of his disorder, he renewed his intention of
visiting the continent; but he soon again changed
his mind, being persuaded, he says, by certain per-
sons with great vehemence, whom he could not dis-
obey. He alludes to lord Bolingbroke and his
friend Mrs. Howard. "There would not be com.
mon sense,” wrote the former, "in your going into
France at this juncture, even if you intended to stay
there long enough to draw the sole pleasure and
profit which I propose you should have in the ac-
quaintance I am ready to give you there. Much
less ought you to think of such an unmeaning jour-
ney, when the opportunity of quitting Ireland for
England is, I believe, fairly before you." Of the
interview also between himself and Mrs. Howard
he gives an interesting account: "In a few weeks
after the king's death I found myself not well, and
was resolved to take a trip to Paris for my health,
having an opportunity of doing it with some advan-
tages and recommendations. But my friends ad-
vised me first to consult Mrs. Howard, because, as
they knew less of courts than I, they were strongly
prepossessed that the promise made me might suc-
cecd, since a change was all I desired. I writ to
her for her opinion; and particularly conjured her,
since I had long done with courts, not to use me
like a courtier, but give me her sincerc advice, which
she did, both in a letter and to some friends. It was
by all means not to go; it would look singular,
and perhaps disaffected; and my friends enlarged
upon the good intentions of the court towards me.
Even the small hopes he still seems to have clung to
from this source were destined, like so many before
them, to be blasted in the bud. He might, by con-
tinuing upon the spot, and his frequent interviews
with Mrs. Howard and the queen, have ultimately
succeeded with them to propitiate Walpole, and
have negotiated an exchange of preferments without
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxvii
character throughout life, he is said to have refused
minds that reverence and godly fear that becomes all those who
come into thy presence
any mean compliance or compromise of his prin- | yet, with the singular contradiction that marked his
ciples. But a new attack of his frightful disorder,
and accounts of Mrs. Johnson's sudden relapse,
totally disqualified him for pursuing his views,
and hurried him back, in a state of wretched grief
and disappointment, to his old residence in Ireland.
He took leave of the queen in a polite letter to Mrs.
Howard, explaining why it was he was not able to
do so in person I am infinitely obliged to you
for all your civilities, and shall retain the remem-
brance of them during my life. I hope you will
favour me so far as to present my most humble duty
to the queen, and to describe to her majesty my sor-
row that my disorder was of such a nature as to
make me incapable of attending her as she was
pleased to permit me. I shall pass the remainder
of my life with the utmost gratitude for her majesty's
favours," &c.
1
|
"We know, O Lord, that while we are in these bodies we are
bsent from the Lord, for no man can see thy face and live.
The only way that we can draw near unto thee in this life is by
prayer; but, O Loid, we know not how to pray, nor what to
ask for as we ough. We cannot pretend by our supplications
or prayers to turu or change thee, for thou art the same yester-
day, to-day, and for ever; but the coming into thy presence,
the drawing near unto thee, is the only means to be changed
ourselves, to become like thee in holiness and purity, to be fol-
lowers of thee as thy dear children. O, therefore, turn not
away thy face from us, but let us see so much of the excellen-
cies of thy divine nature, of thy goodness, and justice, and
mercy, and forbearance, and holiness, and purity, as may make
us hate everything in ourselves that is unlike to thee, that so
we may abhor and repent of and forsake those sins that we so
often fall into when we forget thee. Lord! we acknowledge
and confess we have lived in a course of sin, and folly, and vanity,
from our youth up, forgetting our latter end, and our great ac-
count that we must one day make, and turning a deaf ear to thy
many calls to us, either by thy holy word, by our teachers,
or by our own con-ciences; and even thy more severe mes-
sages, by afflictions, sicknesses, crosses, and disappointments,
have not been of force enough to turn us from the vanity and
folly of our own ways. What then can we expect in justice,
when thou shalt enter into judgment with us, but to have our
portion with the hypocrites and unbelievers? to depart for ever
from the presence of the Lord; to be turned into hell with those
that forget God? But, O God, must holy ! O God, must mighty!
O holy and most merciful Saviour! deliver us not iuto the bitter
pains of eternal death, but have mercy upon us, most merciful
Father, and forgive us our sins for thy name's sake; for thou
hast declared thyself to be a God slow to anger, full of good-
ness, forbearance, and long-suffering, and forgiving iniquity,
trausgression, and sin. O Lord, therefore show thy mercy
O let it be in pardoning our sins past, and in chang.
upon us
Swift's distress of mind at this period seems to have
been poignant in the extreme. His usual mode of
salutation in taking leave of his dearest friends for
years before his death partook of that melancholy
eccentricity so peculiar to him. May God bless
you!" he said; " I trust that we shall never meet
again!" than which perhaps no stronger proof was
ever given of a deep-seated and pervading grief of
heart and soul. "I beg," he writes to Dr. Sheridan,
in expectation of Stella's death, "if you have not
written before you get this, to tell me no particulars,
but the event in general: my weakness, my age, my
friendship, will bear no more." In another letter
he says,
"I I kept your letter an hour in my pocketing our natures, in giving us a new heart and a new spirit. that
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 perquisites of living long: the last act
of life is always a tragedy at best; but it is a bitter
aggravation to have one's best friend go before one.
What have I to do in this world? I never was 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 longer." And in a letter to his old ac-
quaintance Mr. Stopford he observes, with his pe-
culiar discrimination between the eventful epochs of
human life, "I think there is not a greater folly
than that of entering into too strict and particular a
friendship, with the loss of which a man must be
absolutely miserable; but especially at an age when
it is too late to engage in a new friendship. Be-
sides, that was a person of my own rearing and in-
structing from childhood, who excelled in every
good quality that can possibly accomplish a human
creature. Dear James, pardon me. I know not
what I am saying; but believe me that violent
friendship is much more lasting and as much en-
gaging as violent love."
On the dean's arrival he found this beloved friend
in the last stage of decay. He had the sorrow of
watching over her in this state, of marking day
by day and hour by hour (as he had done in his
diary of Temple's decline) the gradual approaches
of death for a period of five months. He did all
that lay in his power-consistent with his strangely
adopted resolution in one particular-to smoothe the
pillow of departing life; he gave his time, his con-
solation-he sat by, soothed, and prayed with her ;
AN EVENING PRAYER BY DEAN SWIFT,
COMPOSED DURING THE SICKNESS OF STELLA,
ם
"Ou! Almighty God, the searcher of all hearts, and from whom
no secrets are hid, who nast declared that all such as shall draw
nigh to thee with their lips when their hearts are far from thee
are an abomination unto thee; cleanse, we beseech thee, the
thoughts of our hearts, by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit,
that no wandering, vain, nor idle thoughts may put out of our
we may lead a new life, and walk before thee in newness of
life, that so sin may not have dominion over us for the time
to come. O let thy good Spirit, without which we can do no-
thing, O let that work in us both to will and do such things as
may be well pleasing to thee. O let it change our thoughts
and minds, and take them off the vain pleasures of this world,
and place them there where the only true joys are to be found.
O fill our minds every day more and more with the happiness
of that blessed state of living for ever with thee, that we may
make it our great work and business to work out our salvation,
-to improve in the knowledge of thee, whom to know is life
eternal. But, Lord, since we cannot know thee but by often
drawing near unto thee and coming into thy presence, which
in this life we can do only by prayer, O make us therefore
ever seusible of these great benefits of prayer, that we may re-
joice at all opportunities of coming into thy presence, and may
ever find ourselves the better and more heavenly-miuded by it,
and may never wilfully neglect any opportunity of thy worship
and service. Awaken thoroughly in us a serious sense of these
things, that so to-day, while it is called to-day, we may see and
know the things that belong to our peace, before they be hid
from our eyes-before that long night cometh when no man can
work. O that every night may so effectually put us in mind of
our last, that we may every day take care so to live as we shall
then wish we had lived when we come to die; that so, when
that night shall come, we may as willingly put off these bodies
as we now put off our clothes, and may rejoice to rest from our
labours, and that our war with the world, the devil, and our
own corrupt nature is at an end. In the mean while, we be-
sech thee to take us, and ours, and all that belongs to us, into
thy fatherly care this night. Let thy holy angels be our guard,
while we are not in a condition to defend ourselves, that we may
not be under the power of devils or wicked men and preserve
us also, O Lord, from every evil accident, that, after a comfort-
able and refreshing sleep, we may find ourselves, and all that
belongs to us, in peace and safety. And now, O Lord, being
ourselves still in the body, and compassed about with iutirmi-
ties, we can neither be ignorant nor unmindful of the suffer-
ings of our fellow-creatures. O Lord, we must acknowledge
that they are all but the effects of sin; and therefore we be-
seech thee so to sanctify their several chastisements to them,
that at length they may bring forth the peaceable fruits of
righteousness, and then be thou graciously pleased to remove
thy heavy and afflicting hand from them. And O that the rest
of mankind, who are not under such trials, may by thy good-
ness be led to repentance, that the consciences of hard-hearted
sinners may be awakened, and the understandings of poor ig-
norant creatures enlightened, and that all that love and fear
thee may ever find the joy and comfort of a good consciencə
beyond all the satistactions that this world can afford. And
now, blessed Lord, from whom every good gift comes, it is meet,
right, and our bounded duty, that we should offer up unto theẻ
our thanks and praise for all thy goodness towards us, for pre-
lxxviil
LIFE AND WORKS OF
the expiring being whom he so much loved the poor
consolation of being considered as his wife, and of
preserving her reputation from the slightest breath
of future scandal by being permitted to die within
the deanery-the spot which, if she were indeed mar-
ried to one whose friendship was so fatal to her sex,
she had a right to consider her own home. He is even
stated to have given directions to Dr. Sheridan and
Mr. Worrall that she might not be removed thither,
because it would be improper, and evil-minded per-
sons might put a bad interpretation upon it. Nay,
it has been placed on record that within a few days
of her dissolution, in the presence of Dr. Sheridan,
she entreated Swift, in the most pathetic terms, to
grant her dying request. Swift, it is added, made no
reply, but, turning on his heel, walked silently out
of the room, and never saw her more. Indignant,
we are told, at this barbarity, she however summoned
sufficient fortitude to make her will, by which she
bequeathed her whole fortune, by her own name, to
charitable uses.
Swift's whole plan of life was now changed, and
all his domestic comforts vanished. Although he
still continued to complain of living in a nation of
slaves, his anxiety for removing appears in a great
measure abated. Overwhelmed as he was with
private griefs and disappointments, as a public cha-
racter it was not in his nature to despond; and by
those who knew him best he is stated to have di-
rected his future cares and exertions to the relief of
the indigent, to the endowment of charities, and
to the support of the injured and oppressed. He
moreover resumed his pen; he exposed in a great
variety of publications the causes of the distresses
under which Ireland laboured, at the same time re-
commending to the British government the means
by which they might be removed. He promoted
the usefulness of the best public charities that ever
were planned; and in obedience to the great scrip-
ture truths he gave largely to the poor, and created
a fund purposely to advance the interests of small
tradesmen, and those who from unavoidable causes
stood in need of temporary accommodation to
rescue them from ruin. Even to the poorest he was
a friend, and from those who would borrow" he
turned not away;" and not a few anecdotes are
mentioned which convey an idea of his eccentricity
in the least matters. The dean was accustomed to
give money to several necessitous persons whose
serving peace in our land, the light of thy gospel, and the true
religion in our churches; for giving us the fruits of the earth in
due season, and preserving us from the plague and sickness that
rages in other lands. We bless thee for that support and main-
tenauce which thou art pleased to afford us, and that thou
givest us a heart to be sensible of this thy goodness, and to re-
turn our thanks at this time for the same; and as to our per-
sons, for that measure of health that any of us do enjoy, which
is more than any of us do deserve. We bless thee, more particu-
larly, for thy protection over us the day past; that thy good
spirit has kept us from falling into even the greatest sins,
which, by our wicked and corrupt nature, we should greedily
have been hurried into; and that, by the guard of thy holy
angels, we have been kept safe from any of those evils that
might have befallen us, and which many are now groaning under
who rose up in the morning in safety and peace as well as we.
But above all, for that great mercy of contriving and effecting
onr redemption, by the death of our Saviour Jesus Christ, whom,
of thy great love to mankind, thou dist send into this world,
to take upon him our flesh, to teach us thy will, and to bear the
guilt of our transgressions, to die for our sins, and to rise again
for our justification; and for enabling us to lay hold of that
salvation, by the gracious assistances of thy Holy Spirit. Lord,
grant that the sense of this wonderful love of thine to us may
effectually encourage us to walk in thy fear and live to thy
glory, that so, when we shall put off this mortal state, we may
he made partakers of that glory that shall then be revealed,
which we beg of thee for the sake of thy Son Jesus Christ, who
died to procure it for us, aud in whose name and words we do
offer up the desires of cur zouls unto thee, saying,
"Our Father &c."
*
history he knew, and whom he met in his walks.
With his ready wit he used to give to each the name
most appropriate to her condition, means of liveli-
hood, and some peculiarity of manner, or even bodily
infirmity. He would accost them as Cancerina,
Stumpanympha, Pallagowna, Floranella, Stumpan-
thea, &c.; and in one of his letters he says, "Can-
cerina is dead, and I let her go to her grave too
without a coffin." He relieved them while living.
His
With a liberal and generous disposition towards
others, Swift observed a plan of strict economy and
even of self-denial in regard to himself and those
elegancies and luxuries he might have commanded.
He paid off with conscientious punctuality the heavy
charges on his induction, and others relating to the
deanery, which he left far more flourishing than he
found it; and afterwards dividing his income into
three parts, he devoted one to his domestic expenses;
the second to a provision against the accidents of
life, to go into some charitable foundation at his
death; and the third in charities to the poor and
distressed. It is asserted by Sheridan that many
families in Dublin now living in great credit owed
the foundation of their fortunes to the sums first
borrowed from the dean's charitable fund. Small
as the spring was, yet, by continual flowing, it
watered and enriched the humble vale through which
it ran, still extending and widening its course.
reputation for wisdom and integrity was so great
that he was consulted by several corporations
in regard to trade; and they were happy who
could obtain him for an umpire in their decisions.
From his sentence there was no appeal: he had
an eye to remove all public nuisances, and his
strict vigilance and extended information in
great
measure supplied a city police. He maintained his
remarkable ascendancy over the mind and temper
of the Irish people, and was universally recognised
as a sort of pope or spiritual ruler by the title of The
Dean. His extraordinary reputation gave him the
power of a censor-general, and he made it as for-
midable and more useful than that of ancient Rome.
Whatever the dean said or did was received without
question as infallibly right; and we may judge of
the strange impression of his power from a passage
in a letter from the lord-lieutenant himself (Carteret),
in which he says (March 24, 1732), "I know by
experience how much the city of Dublin thinks it-
self under your protection, and how strictly they
used to obey all orders fulminated from the so-
vereignty of St. Patrick's." In the postscript also
to another letter he says (March 24, 1736), "When
people ask me how I governed Ireland, I say that
I pleased Dr. Swift." It is at this period that the
genuine qualities of the dean's mind-as in his more
prosperous political day, when, instead of arrogance
and conceit, the virtues of religious humility, com-
passion, and beneficence, shone so conspicuous-
appeared in their native force and brilliancy. He
had resigned all ambitious views; he knew that
Walpole was bitterly exasperated against him for
the satirical severity of his poems, especially the
"Epistle to a Lady," and a " Rhapsody on Poetry ;"
besides that terrific character of the statesman in an
"Account of the Court and Empire of Japan;” add
to which some forged letters (like so many others
springing doubtless from the paid hirelings of Wal-
pole) in favour of Mrs. Barber, bearing the deau's
pleasure. It is singular that, in the position in which
signature, and which strongly excited the quein's dis-
the parties stood, with Walpole's known eumity
and consequent jealousy of Swift's influence with
the queen, or at least the pleasant understanding
existing between them, his different biographers
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxix
should have agreed in attributing the forgeries to less
interes.ed quarters. Sir W. Scott is thus of opinion
that Pilkington was the originator of them with a
similar view, while Mr. Croker is inclined to think
that Barber was the forger; but when we recall to
mind the affair of the intercepted letter, and the
base views attributed to Swift from the same source,
suspicion naturally falls on him who had most to
gain by calumniating so formidable an adversary,
whose dreadful bolts would be rendered innocuous
if the " Jupiter Fulminans" was levelled with the
earth.
But vast as was now the dean's popularity, sur-
passing all that he had attained in England, it was
in Ireland chiefly confined to the middle and lower
classes; and hence probably his well-known maxim,
"that the little virtue left in the world is chiefly to
be found among the middle rank of mankind, who
are neither allured out of her paths by ambition nor
driven by poverty."
Though a sound churchman,
he had the greatest reverence for civil freedom, with
unfeigned hatred of the base trickeries of the court |
and government of that venal day, when a queen
deigned, for a ministerial bribe, to return an answer
to the man who had heaped on her the most oppro-
brions terins that would now be thought to disgrace
a common prostitute. But the better class to which
the dean alluded he could govern as with a silken
thread; while by the populace he was revered al-
most as a being of superior order. If inclined to be
mischievous, or engaged in a squabble or skirmish,
the approach of the dean was sufficient to scatter
the most refractory, without either civil or military
aid; and more than once a mob was seen to disperse
like schoolboys at the sight of their master, who, as
he himself said, if he had lifted up his little finger,
would have torn his enemy to pieces. With regard
to the higher class, as it is termed, he is said to
have looked upon them as wholly incorrigible, and
latterly he refused to hold further intercourse with
them except upon some unavoidable business.
declares he had little personal acquaintance with
any lord spiritual or temporal in the kingdom; he
regarded the members of the existing house of com-
mons as a set of needy venal prostitutes, who sacri-
ficed principle, character, and the interests of their
country to the lure of the tempter of their avarice
and ambition. With these, as be rowed at the out-
set of his career, he carried on a perpetual war,
striking deep into their corrupt mass the stings of
his keen, relentless satire, which being enabled only
to return with secret hatred and vengeance, they re-
taliated upon him by every species of obloquy they
could invent. During the dean's life, however, he
uniformly made them repent their folly; and we are
presented with some exquisitely amusing details of
the last campaign of this glorious old assertor of Ire-
land's liberties with corrupt sycophants, tyrant mi-
nisters, and a prostituted court.
He
The royal personages themselves affected to con-
sider the refined irony with which he held up the
court proceedings to scorn and ridicule, in a literal
sense; and, aware how ill and ungratefully the great
patriot had been treated by a corrupt and brutal go-
vernment and how well they had merited resentment,
wisely pocketed the compliment as it stood. But it
was different with Walpole, who, lashed into rage by
the dean's resist less strokes repeated upon the ten-
derest parts of his character, resolved to retort by the
only means he had in his power. He had the editor,
printer, and publishers of the two poems all arrested;
and prosecutions were immediately commenced.
Possessing evidence that Swift was the author, he
conceived he should at last be able to wreak his full
vengeance; and ordered a warrant to be made out for
his apprehension, and being conducted to England to
take his trial.
The messenger is said to have been ready in wait-
ing, when, fortunately perhaps for both parties, a
friend of Walpole, well acquainted with the state of
Ireland, being informed of his intention, inquired
what army was to accompany the messenger, and
whether he could conveniently spare ten thousand
men at that moment; for no less a number would
succeed in bringing the Drapier a prisoner out of
that kingdom. Walpole, it is added, upon this re-
covered his senses, and was induced, with some re-
luctance, to abandon his design. "Had the poor
fellow," says Sheridan, "attempted to execute his
commission, he would most assuredly have been
hanged by the mob; and this might have involved
the two countries in a contest which it was by no
means the interest of a minister to engage
in.”
,
The obnoxious poems, it seems, were sent to Mrs.
Barber, then in London, by Pilkington, in order that
she might turn them to the best account she could,
being at that time in distressed circumstances. He
also obtained from the dean letters of recommenda-
tion to alderman
lord-mayor elect, by whom
in consequence of such recommendation he was ap-
pointed city chaplain. Yet this man had the baseness
to turn informer, says Sheridan, against his benefactor
as the author, and Mrs. Barber as the editor; who
thereupon was confined for some time in the house
of a king's messenger. But upon examination the
gentlemen of the long robe could discover nothing
in the poems that came under the denomination of ä
libel, or incurred any legal punishment; and accord-
ing to this version of the case, the publishers were
released and the prosecution was dropped.
Upon the subject of the forged letters he writes
to his friend Pope in the language of an injured man
conscious of his own rectitude and fearless of any
evil consequences, as insinuated by some of those
friends who were aware of the extent of the conspi-
racy to rob the dean of his fair and honest fame:
"As to those three forged letters you mention, sup-
posed to be written by me to the queen on Mrs.
Barber's account, especially the letter which bears
my name; I can only say the apprehensions one may
be apt to have of a friend's doing a foolish thing is an
effect of kindness: and God knows who is free from
playing the fool some time or other. But in such a
degree as to write to the queen, who has used me ill
without any cause, and to write in such a manner as
the letter you sent me, and in such a style, and to
have so much zeal for one almost a stranger; and
to make such a description of a woman as to prefer
her before all mankind; and to instance it as one
of the greatest grievances of Ireland that her ma-
jesty has not encouraged Mrs. Barber, a woollen-
draper's wife, declining in the world, because she has
a knack of versifying; was to suppose or fear a folly
so transcendant that no man could be guilty of who
was not fit for Bedlam. You know the letter you
sent enclosed is not my hand, and why I should dis-
guise my hand and yet sign my name is unaccount-
able. If the queen had not an inclination to think
ill of me, she knows me too well to believe in her
own heart that I should be such a coxcomb.”
In his communication with Mrs. Howard on the
same subject he observes—“ I find, from several in-
stances, I am under the queen's displeasure; and,
as it is usual among princes, without any manner of
reason. I am told there were three letters sent to her
majesty, in relation to one Mrs. Barber, who is now in
London and soliciting for a subscription to her poems.
It seems the queen thinks that these letters were
written by me; and I scorn to defend myself even
to her majesty, grounding my scorn upon the opinion
lxxx
LIFE AND WORKS OF
I had of her justice, her taste, and good sense; espe-
cially when the last of those letters, whereof I have
just received the original from Mr. Pope, was signed
with my name; and why I should disguise my hand,
which you know very well, and yet sign my name,
is both ridiculous and unaccountable. I am sensi-
ble I owe a great deal of this usage to sir Robert
Walpole,” &c.
From this and other passages of Swift's letters
at this period, it is evident be attributes the displea-
sure he had incurred at court to the art of Walpole,
and in nearly all his latter poems he gives full scope
to his resentment. His residence in, and the unhappy
condition of, the country he had made so many efforts
to regenerate, tended to embitter his declining years.
In one of his letters to Bolingbroke he deplores the
irritation of mind which the continual sight of misery
he was unable to alleviate, owing to the infliction of
unjust laws, made him unable to control. "I find
myself," he says, disposed every year, or rather
every month, to be more angry and revengeful: and
my rage is so ignoble that it descends even to resent
the folly and baseness of the enslaved people among
whom I live.... but you think, as I ought to think,
that it is time for me to have done with the world ;
and so I would if I could get into a better, before I
was called into the best, and not die here in a rage,
like a poisoned rat in a hole."
And in another to Pope, speaking of his letters, he
observes, "None of them have anything to do with
party, of which you are the clearest of all men by
your religion and the whole tenor of your life; while
I am raging every moment against the corruptions
in both kingdoms, and especially of this, such is my
weakness."-The aversion he had so long felt for his
continued residence in Ireland is still more strongly
expressed in a passage of a confidential letter to
Dr. Sheridan, which contained the singular request
that the doctor would attend his body, when he was
dead, as far as Holyhead, to see it interred there;
for," he observes, with a spirit worthy the best
patriots of antiquity, "I would not willingly lie in a
country of slaves."
About the year 1736 the dean's memory became
more and more impaired; and those brilliant facul-
ties which had enlightened and entertained the
world gave signs of evident decay. He was en-
gaged in composing the poem of the "Legion Club,"
when one of his fits of giddiness and deafness re-
turned with such violence that he never recovered
from the consequences.
From that moment he
seldom attempted any composition that required
much thinking or more than a single sitting to
complete; a melancholy proof of his rapid decline.
That melancholy was fearfully increased by his
knowledge that the approaching calamity of loss of
intellect was the effect of disease, not of age and
time; a strange and fatal disorder which had at-
tended him like his shadow, or pursued him like an
assassin, by whose dagger he knew he must fall,
while vainly hurrying to escape from place to place.
No affliction can be imagined more terrible than
that with which so sunlike and clear an intellect, so
piercing a wit, and so grand and powerful a mind
were thus threatened. His misery was increased by
the strength of his imagination brooding over the
unhappy scene he foresaw must be his lot.
He was
often heard to offer up earnest prayers to God, "to
take him away from the evil to come ;" and as each
lamented day of his birth came round, he would re-
cur to his bible in an agony of spirit, and repeat the
solemn and awfully grand adjurations of afflicted
Job. To put the climax to his sufferings, his pas-
sions, always of a violent character, tended further
to weaken and pervert hic understanding; and that
|
he was himself perfectly conscious of the hopeless
state of his health was shown by his observation to
a brother clergyman upon occasion of a narrow
escape from death. They had been standing con-
versing immediately below a large heavy mirror,
and had just removed when the cords that supported
it suddenly gave way, and it fell with great violence
to the ground. His friend immediately uttered an
ejaculation of gratitude for his providential escape;
and Swift's reply was very remarkable: "Had I been
alone," he said, "I could have wished I had not re-
moved.' Dr. Young has recorded another instance
of this sad prescience in the mind of the unfortunate
dean. When walking out with some friends, about a
mile from Dublin, it was observed that he had sud-
denly disappeared: Dr. Young turned back, and
found Swift at some distance gazing intently at the
top of a lofty elm, the head of which had been
blasted. Upon his friend's approach he pointed to
it,
it, significantly adding, "I shall be like that tree,
and die first at the top." "An unusually long fit of
deafness soon disqualified him for conversation,"
says Sheridan, "and made him lose all relish for so-
ciety; few were desirous of visiting him in that de-
plorable state." He could no longer amuse himself
with writing; and having formed a resolution of
never wearing spectacles, he was equally prevented
from reading. Without employment or amusement
of any kind, the time wore heavily along; and not
a ray, except derived from religious hope in the in-
tervals of pain,
tervals of pain, pierced the surrounding gloom. We
hasten in sorrow, as from some unavoidable calamity,
over the closing scene. The state of his mind is
vividly described in a few sentences to his friend
and comforter, Mrs. Whiteway :-"I have been very
miserable all night, and to-day extremely deaf and
full of pain. I am so stupid and confounded that I
cannot express the mortification I am under both in
body and in mind. All I can say is, I am not in
torture, but I daily and hourly expect it. Pray, let
me know how your health is, and your family. I
hardly understand one word I write. I am sure my
days will be very few; few and miserable they must
be.-I am, for those few days, yours entirely, J.
SWIFT. If I do not blunder, it is Saturday."
Yet, near as he naturally supposed he was to his
end, he survived upwards of five years after the date
of these lines. His understanding wholly failed;
and it was found necessary to appoint legal guard-
ians of his person and estate. As if doomed to ex-
haust the catalogue of human miseries beyond those
incident to infirmity or age, he was only relieved
from a fit of lunacy which continued several months,
hy sinking into a state of idiotcy which lasted till his
death. This event took place October 19th, 1745.
No sooner were the tidings known than the citizens
of Dublin gathered from all quarters, and gave un-
feigned testimony of the respect, and even venera-
tion, in which he was held. They forced their way
into the deanery, to pay the last tribute of grief to
their departed benefactor; and happy were they who
first got into the chamber where that noble heart lay
still from the indignant griefs which had torn it, to
procure locks of his hair, or the least memento, to
hand down as sacred reliques to their children an
their far posterity. "So eager were these numbers.
that in less than an hour," says Sheridan, “hun
venerable head was entirely stripped of all its silver
ornaments, till not a hair remained. There were
to be heard nothing but lamentations round the
a" Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And dying mention it within their wills.
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their issue."
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxxi
precincts where he lived, as if he had been suddenly
cut off in the flower of his years."
He was buried in the most private manner, ac-
cording to the directions in his will, in the great
aisle of St. Patrick's cathedral; and by way of
monument, a slab of black marble was placed
against the wall, on which was engraved the follow-
ing Latin epitaph, written by himself:-
Hic depositum est corpus
JONATHAN. SWIFT. S. T. P.
Hujus Ecclesiæ Cathedralis
Decani
Ubi sæva indignatio
Ulterius cor lacerare nequit ;
Abi viator
Et imitare si poteris,
Strenuum pro vinili libertatis vindicem.
Obiit anno (1745)
Mensis (Octobris) die (19)
Etatis anno (78).
"The later letters of Swift," it is observed by Dr.
Warton, "are curious and interesting, as they give
us an account of the gradual decay of his intellect
and temper and strength of mind and body, and fill
us with many melancholy but useful reflections.
We see the steps by which this great genius sunk
into discontent, into peevishness, into indignity, into
torpor, into insanity." In the sad accounts of his
latter state some curious facts have also been pre-
served, which show that he had occasional intervals
of sense. His physician used to accompany him out
for the air; and on one of these days Swift remarked
a new building he had not before seen, and inquired
for what it was designed, to which Dr. Kingbury
replied, "That, Mr. Dean, is the magazine for arms.
and powder for the security of the city." "Oh, oh!"
said the dean, pulling out his pocket-book, "let me
take an item of this; it is worth remarking. My
tablets,' as Hamlet says, my tablets; memory, put
down that "which led to the following epigram,
supposed to be the last verses which he produced:—
." Behold a proof of Irish sense,
Here Irish wit is seen:
When nothing's left that's worth defence,
We build a magazine."
C
In the very singular exhortation, likewise, ad-
dressed to the sub-dean and chapter of St. Patrick's,
as late as January, 1741, he displayed some of those
gleams and even flashes of peculiar humour which
shone in his best days, though fast verging upon im-
becility.
By Swift's will, which is dated in May, 1740, a
short time before he sunk into comparative uncon-
sciousness, he left about 1200/. in legacies, and the
bulk of his fortune, upwards of 11,000l., to erect and
endow an hospital for idiots and lunatics.
Nearly all the biographers of this illustrious but
eccentric genius have found reason to remark that
his character was so various and so contradictory as
to render it difficult to convey a clear and accurate
idea of it as a whole. It is a magnificent picture,
composed of strong lights and shadows, but in which
the grandeur of design, the rich and varied compo-
sition, the general effect and splendid colours, be-
come only more powerful from the occasional con-
trast of the depth of shadows giving relief to other
parts of the subject. His conduct in the discharge
His conduct in the discharge
of what he conceived to be his public duties, the
greatness and disinterestedness of his literary charac-
ter, and his general benevolence, far outweigh the
less estimable traits of his singular and powerful
mind. As a public man, indeed, no one in similar
circumstances ever evinced more true greatness and
disinterestedness of conduct; he provided for all who
applied to him deserving his support, before he re-
seived any recompense for his arduous labours in
VOL. A.
the cause, as he esteemed it, of the religion and
liberties of his country. Perhaps his crowning merit,
coming immediately after the days of our Charleses
and Jameses, was to teach literary men not only
to respect themselves, but by consistent principle,
manly independence, and long assiduous intellectual
cultivation, to claim respect and equality of mind
instead of patronage from superiors only in rank and
station. The same elevation of intellect, the same
moral strength and resolution, will be found to ani-
mate the whole circle of his duties. The bold as-
serter of civil liberty combined with the highest
religious doctrine, he was also the strenuous sup-
porter of the rights of the Anglican church as of his
own cathedral, and in attention to its economy and
revenues he was most strict and exemplary. Here, if
carried no further, is fame enough for any one.
In the words of his friend Pope it may in this
respect be said-
Honour and fame from no condition rise;
Act well your part-there all the honour lies. '
With a rare sense of justice, presenting a pattern to
greater members of the church, he consulted the in-
terest of his successors in preference to his own, and
diverted not the renewal of leases to family purposes.
Another excellent feature of his religious character
was, that no one more detested the vice of hypocrisy;
and his great anxiety that no stain of the kind should
attach to his memory betrayed him into a certain
boldness and plainness of manners which gave of
fence in high quarters, and often proved distasteful
to those who were not aware at the time of his pure
and lofty motives. Lord Bolingbroke on this head
declared, with great justice, that Swift's conduct
through life was that of hypocrisy reversed; and in
real love of peace, of good-will to men, and charity
to all ranks and creeds (as witness his friend Pope
and so many others), he was surpassed by few, and in
the still higher christian virtues of truth and fidelity
by none. His piety, by the admission of his worst
enemies, was sincere; he regularly attended public
worship, and always read prayers to the members of
his household in the morning and in the evening,
Next in importance, if considered as a citizen and
a patriot, he was uniformly steady and vigilant in
his duty, directed by the best motives, though he
may sometimes have mistaken the means, in his in-
tense eagerness to punish vice and folly by a public
exposure of details before considered safe from the
shafts of satire, and left to conscience or Heaven to
discharge.
In his wonderful efforts to correct the erroneous
system so long pursued by the government of Ire-
land, his conduct, like his writings, did him im-
mortal honour and gave him deserved perpetuity of
fame. His ambition and greatness of spirit allowed
him to make no distinction with regard to persons,
he spoke as he thought, and told the greatest the
severest truths; and his wise opinions were always
received with respect, if not reverence, although sel-
dom obeyed. He was fearless to a fault in the stern
unflinching assertion of his cause, and never shrunk
from the eye or withering frown of power; no pro-
secution could make him even withdraw from public
notice, much less silence the resistless eloquence of
his tongue and pen. Ner did the unanimous ap-
plause of a grateful nation for the successful efforts
of the Drapier appear to change or to exalt him in
his own eyes; it even failed to administer balm to
his suffering mind.
In point of natural disposition, Swift had all the
irritability and more than the unhappiness peculiar
to a richly-gifted intellect. Then disappointment,
the most disastrous combination of circumstances,
9
lxxxii
LIFE AND WORKS OF
and consequent discontent, haunted him almost from
nis childhood, soured his temper towards the close
of life, and prevented him from enjoying real hap-
piness. "I remember," he says to lord Boling-
broke, "when I was a little boy I felt a great fish at
the end of my line, which I drew up almost on the
ground, but it dropped in, and the disappointment
vexes me to this very day; and I believe it was the
type of all iny future disappointments." That Swift's
unhappy feelings and views were wholly sincere and
unaffected there can be no doubt, from the sad
effects produced upon those he most loved and upon
his own mind; it was the evil spirit of his destiny,
which no exorcism of love, or fame, or success be-
yond the fondest hopes of genius, could ever expel;
it tore his heart with cruel indignation, and seemed
a part of his very nature:-
"Naturam expeilas furcâ tamen usque recurret "
It might appear from some portion of his letters
that the charge of misanthropy brought against Swift
is not wholly unfounded; but when we turn on
the other hand to his warm and constant friendship
and wide-spread charity, we are inclined to think that
it sprung, as he has himself recorded, "from his rage
and resentment at the mortifying sight of the slavery,
folly, and baseness about him, and among which he
was forced to live." He informs Dr. Sheridan, with
the air of an anxious friend, that "he would every
day find his description of yahoos more resembling.
You should think and deal with every man as a vil-
lain, without calling him so or valuing him less.
This is an old true lesson.”
In these maxims we can evidently trace the results
of disappointment, disease, and age. Though Swift
was so well acquainted with human nature from its
highest to its lowest scene, still his knowledge was
that of the poet rather than of the philosopher-a
fatal dower of the imagination, morbid in some re-
spects, rather than derived from the process of rea-
soning and founded upon experience and facts.
its main character, indeed, it is the knowledge of
Shakspeare, Homer, Dante, Cervantes, Fielding,
and Scott, rather than of Aristotle, Locke, or of men
attached to philosophy, science, taste, and virtu.
In
With regard to the peculiarities of his style, vigour,
simplicity, and conciseness assuredly take the lead.
He was the first writer who expressed his meaning
without any display of subsidiary epithets or exple-
tives of any kind, tending to weaken the impression
of simple truth. In the use of synonymes he was
even more sparing than Addison, and devoted his
attention to illustrate the force of his ideas; and it
is thus that metaphor is so seldom met with in his
works. But he abounds in clear and beautiful alle-
gory, and his images are always just and new. In
political discussion, his favourite study, he was su-
perior to any man of his time, not excepting Addison.
His poems, like his masterly political allegories, are
a series of general and particular satires, and were
mostly written for some special occasion. Even be-
fore the complimentary lines of Pope he had taken
his rank as the Rabelais of England :-
"Whether thou choose Cervantes' serious air,
Or laugh and shake in Rabelais' easy chair."
to the most eminent and great. His Journal and
letters are the most genuine and valuable transcripts
of his mind; for in these he threw off all party tram-
mels, and his extraordinary and often contradictory
qualities shine forth without alloy. They display
complete knowledge of the world, combined with
innumerable traits of benevolence, fierce resentment,
and an indignation at the sufferings and oppression
of the people, which hurried him into misanthropy.
Though lofty and commanding with his superiors in
rank, towards his equals he was full of social ease,
wit, and spirit; and though rough in appearance, was
really and condescendingly kind to his inferiors.
While economical and saving, he devoted his money
to the noblest purposes; and he appears in this re-
spect to have modelled his conduct upon his excel-
lent observation to lord Bolingbroke, "that a wise
man should have money in his head, but not in his
heart;" but in his declining years he is thought
to have furnished some proof of his distinguished
friend's reply, "that a wise man should take care
it would assuredly descend to the heart, the seat of
how he lets money get too much into his head, for
the passions."
Swift was celebrated for his amusing anecdote as
well as surpassing wit and repartee, and he had an
excellent way of telling a story; always brief and
pithy, as if careful not to engross the whole time
and conversation of the company. Addicted to no
vice, he seemed to rise superior to the meaner tempt-
ations and pleasures of the world; he was heard to
declare that on no occasion was he intoxicated-
neither, it might be added, with wine nor power:
while from women and gaming he appears to have
kept himself free, from choice as well as principle.
Swift was of middle stature, inclining to tall, ro-
features. He had a high forehead, a handsome
bust, and manly, with strongly marked and regular
nose, and large piercing blue eyes, which retained
their lustre to the last. He had an extreinely agree-
able and expressive countenance, which, in the words
of the unfortunate Vanessa, sometimes shone with a
divine compassion,-at others, the most engaging
vivacity, indignation, fearful passion, and striking
awe. His mouth was pleasing, he had a fine regu-
lar set of teeth, a round double chin with a small
dimple; his complexion, a light olive or pale brown.
His voice was sharp, strong, high-toned; but he was
a bad reader, especially of verses, and disliked
music. His mien was erect, his head firm, and his
whole deportment commanding. There was a stern-
ness and severity in his aspect, which wit and gaiety
did not entirely remove. When pleased he would
smile, but never laughed aloud.
In his diet Swift was abstemious; he preferred
plain dishes, generally hashed; and in drinking he
seldom exceeded a pint of claret. In his person he
was neat and clean even to superstition, and ap-
peared regularly dressed in his gown every morning,
to receive the visits of his most familiar friends.
No man, it is agreed by all his biographers, ever
appreciated with greater tact the qualities and sin-
cerity of his friends; and the better to assist his judg-
ment, he formed a sort of calendar of friendship, in
which he arranged them under the heads of ungrate-
ful, indifferent, doubtful, and it is mortifying to
think he should have found reason to class so many,
even among those whom he had benefited, under
the former head.
If less learned, his wit was more piercing and his
satire more close and trenchant. His ideas flowed
with ease and rapidity, and he used to say "when
he sat down to write a letter he never leaned his
head upon his elbow till he had finished it." Cum With regard to Swift's natural disposition, his
magnis virisse appears to have been no less his love of study, his sagacious knowledge of mankind,
favourite motto than it was that of Horace, and his it has been well observed by Scott that Shak-
letters everywhere attest his high ambition of intel-speare's description of Cassius will apply to him
lectual rule, and his proud desire of dictating them admirably :—
JONATHAN SWIFT.
lxxxiii
'He reads much,
He is a great observer, and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men.-
Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit,
That could be moved to smile at anything.'
In his latter days Swift was an early riser, though
at one period of his life he was said to lie in bed
and think of wit for the day. Of his learning it has
been said that it was not that of a professed scholar.
Dr. J. Warton pointed out the errors of quantity in
his Latin verse. His Latin prose is far from classical.
His letter to Pope on his translation of Homer does
not show any familiar acquaintance with the original;
and his "Letter to Lord Oxford on the Improve-
ment of the English Language" is almost superficial.
In his controversy on Phalaris he had wit and sar-
casm in abundance, but little learning, to bring to
the support of his friend Temple. In the same way,
his observations on the character of Brutus are very
inferior to the masterly review of the character in
the third volume of Gibbon's "Memoirs." In Greek
his knowledge is said to have enabled him to read
the best authors with tolerable facility, but not
more; and as regarded Latin, it did not enter into
the critical niceties of the language. Our great
Chaucer's flow of wit, the amenity and graces of his
frank joyous spirit, were Swift's early admiration
and study; he even made a selection of a number of
epithets in alphabetical order, with references, and a
list of the oaths used by the different characters in
his stories. Like most other men of genius and ac-
tive mind, he is said to have been fond of old roman-
res, and to have carefully studied them—a fact that
rather surprises us-with close attention. His collec-
tion of books, however, comprehended none of the
elder dramatists, not even a copy of Shakspeare,
and the modern plays of Wycherly and Rowe were
presented by the authors. History was his leading
pursuit, and in the decline of life he confined his at-
tention nearly altogether to Clarendon. Like most
men of genius, Swift was fond of residing in the
country, though not at all susceptible to the charms
of what is termed romantic, picturesque, or grand
scenery. He detested field-sports and cruelty of all
kinds, but delighted in planting and rural scenery,
for the freedom it gave him from restraint, the open
air, and exercise, of which he was excessively fond.
His independent but wayward character often made
him appear, to those unacquainted with him, full of
contradictions. A zealous churchman, he had the
highest respect for the rights of his order, though he
wrote with a spirit of satire and a levity bordering
upou profaneness. The object in view being good,
he was not over-scrupulous with regard to the means
of effecting it; and though a friend to liberty, he
ranged himself on the side of the Tories. This
choice, between two of the least evils, led to many
impositions and forgeries on the side of his foes,
who attributed to him a thousand meannesses and
follies which he never said or did. Perhaps the
strongest instance is to be found in the "Courtier's
Creed," which, with all its clever application, con-
tains that air of profaneness which Swift conscien-
tiously avoided; but it is well invented. "I believe,"
it runs, "in king George II., the greatest captain
and the wisest monarch between heaven and earth;
and in sir Robert Walpole, his only minister, our
lord, who was begotten of Barret, the attorney, born
of Mrs. W. of Houghton, accused of corruption, con-
Many of which are at this time in the hands of his descend-
ant, Mr. Edmund Swift, conservator of the regalia in the Tower,
who possesses also a portrait of the dean taken when he was in
advanced years, and some other curiosities appertaining to his
celebrated relative, especially the original MSS, of Swift's poli-
tical treatises and poems previously published
I be-
victed, expelled, and imprisoned. He went down
into Norfolk; the third year he came up again; he
ascended into the administration, and sitteth at the
head of the treasury, from whence he shall pay all
those who shall vote as they are commanded.
lieve in Horace's [his brother's] treaty, the sanctity
of the bishops, the independency of the lords, the
integrity of the commons, restitution fron. Spain,
resurrection of credit, discharge of the public debts,
and peace everlasting. Amen."
Swift's public spirit and extensive charities failed
to protect him from the charges of parsimony and
avarice, though even Johnson admitted they were
never suffered to encroach upon his virtue; for
though frugal by inclination, he was liberal by prin-
ciple. "Wealth," he said, "is liberty, and liberty
is a blessing fittest for a philosopher. Gay is a slave
just by 2000l. too little, but he could not live sine.
dignitate; he declares it would kill him in a month
to make any abatement in his liberalities.' He
writes also to Pope-" Your wants are so few that
you need not be rich to supply them, and my wants
are so many that a king's 7,000,000 of guineas would
not support me."
The dean's singularities were indulged even in
the most refined society, for, though a perfect master
of aristocratic and court manners, he nevertheless
put them aside, and assumed a frankness and blunt-
ness which beat down all defence, and proved at
first intolerably annoying. He once insisted upon
lady Burlington singing for him, though she ex-
pressed repeated wishes to be excused, and not
knowing her tormentor, at length burst into tears;
while it is recorded that Vanessa actually struck him
for his freedom of manner the first time she was in
his company. Sometimes he carried his peculiarity
to a ludicrous or insulting length, especially towards
ladies if they showed any want of attention or re-
spect. Dining at a house where part of the table-
cloth next him happened to have a small hole,
he tore it as wide as he could, so as to eat his soup
through it.
through it. The reason assigned for such behaviour
was to mortify the lady of the house, and to teach
her to pay a proper attention to housewifery. Though
steady in his friendships, his aversion, as in the in-
stances of Somers, Wharton, and Marlborough, was
carried even beyond the grave, and he pursued their
funeral trains with keen satirical epitaphs. He
levelled sarcasms at Steele in his " Rhapsody on
Poetry ;" and seized upon chief-justice Whitshed
like a fierce terrier upon some noxious vermin, which
he tears and worries after it is killed. By a re-
iterated fire of lampoons, squibs, and epitaphs, he
made him odious and contemptible in the eyes of
the people, considering it his duty, as in the case of
Wood, to make him an example to all future ages,
and coupling his name with that of Anytus, the
accuser of Socrates. His satire covered the lawyer
Bettesworth with such ridicule and contempt that he
declared feelingly in the house of commons that it
had deprived him of full 12007. a-year; no trifle,
especially at that period.
Swift often submitted his MS. productions to the
correction of his friends, and weighed their objec-
tions with candour and impartiality. He made nu-
merous alterations in the poem of "Baucis and
Philemon' at Addison's suggestion. He put one of
his pamphlets into the hands of a clergyman, and
consented to strike out a number of passages; but
on seeing the publication the critic became aware
of the injudicious alterations, and expressed his re-
gret. "Sir," replied Swift, "I considered them of
no very great consequence; but had I stood up ir
their defence you might have imputed it to an au
lxxxiv
LIFE AND WORKS OF JONATHAN SWIFT.
thor's vanity. By my compliance you will at all
times hereafter be the more open and free in your
remarks."
Of Swift's general merits as an author we cannot
convey a more correct idea than by giving some pas-
sages from the able and impartial estimate for which
we are indebted to the pen of one of his most en-
lightened biographers-sir W. Scott:-"As an au-
thor there are three peculiarities in the character of
Swift: the first is the distinguished attribute of ori-
ginality; and it cannot be refused him by the most
severe critic. Even Johnson has allowed no author
can be found who has borrowed so little. . . . There
was indeed nothing written before his time which
could serve for his model, and the few hints which
he has adopted from other authors bear no more re-
semblance to his compositions than the green flax to
the cable which is formed from it.
"The second peculiarity is his total indifference
to literary fame. Swift executed his various and
numerous works as a carpenter forms wedges, mal-
lets, or other implements of his art-not with the
purpose of distinguishing himself by the workman-
ship of the tools themselves, but solely in order to
render them fit for accomplishing a certain purpose,
beyond which they were of no value in his eyes.
He is often anxious about the success of his argu-
ment, and jealous of those who debate the principles
and the purpose for which he assumes the pen; but
he evinces on all occasions an unaffected indifference
for the fate of his writings, provided the end of their
publication was answered. The careless mode in
which Swift suffered his works to get to the public,
his refusing them the credit of his name, and his
renouncing all connexion with the profits of lite-
rature, indicate his disdain of the character of a
professional writer.
We
"The third distinguishing mark of Swift's literary
character is, that, with the exception of history (for
his fugitive attempts in Pindaric and Latin verse
are too unimportant to be noticed), he has never at-
tempted a style of composition in which he has not
attained a distinguished pitch of excellence.
may often think the immediate mode of exercising
his talents trifling, and sometimes coarse and offen-
sive; but his Anglo-Latin verses, his riddles, his
indelicate descriptions, and his violent political sa-
tires, are in their various departments as excellent
as the subject admitted; and only leave us occasion
to regret that so much talent was not uniformly
employed on nobler topics."- (Scott's "Me-
moirs," &c.)
It has been observed by Horace Walpole that
Swift's style was excellent, though without grace,
and that it was more correct than Dryden's or Addi-
son's. Hume, in a letter to Robertson, observes,
"What the d-1 had you to do with that old-fashioned,
dangling word, wherewith? I should as soon take
back whereupon, whereunto, wherewithal. I think
the only tolerable decent gentleman of the family is
wherein, and I should not choose to be often seen in
his company; but I know your affection for where-
with proceeds from your partiality to dean Swift,
whom I can often laugh with, whose style I can even
approve―surely never admire. It has no harmony,
no eloquence, no ornament, and not much correct-
ness, whatever the English may imagine. Were not
their literature still in a somewhat barbarous state,
that author's place would not be so high among their
classics."
The English, however, may afford to smile even
at the classical Hume's strictures; for after Swift's
own attacks upon the Scotch-perhaps as injudicious
as they are often undeserved-it is too much to ex-
pect that he should be either loved or admired by
the writers of that nation.a
One of Swift's truest friends, Dr. Delany, after
summing up his merits in reply to the reflections of
lord Orrery, concludes with the following excellent
observations:-"All this considered, the character of
his life will appear like that of his writings; they
will both bear to be re-considered and re-examined
with the utmost attention, and always discover new
beauties and excellencies upon every examination.
They will bear to be considered as the sun, in which
the brightness will hide the blemishes; and when-
ever petulant ignorance, pride, malice, malignity, or
envy interposes to cloud or sully his fame, I take
upon me to pronounce that the eclipse will not last
long.
any
"To conclude, no man ever deserved better of
country than Swift did of his :-a steady, persevering,
inflexible friend; a wise, a watchful, and a faithful
counsellor, under many severe trials and bitter per-
secutions, to the manifest hazard both of his liberty
and his fortune. He lived a blessing; he died a
benefactor; and his name will ever live an honour
to Ireland.'
In order to observe to the close that impartial
spirit and love of truth which actuated the views of
a Scott and a Mason in their admirable biographies
of the celebrated dean, we give the counter opinion
of another commentator on his life and writings, by
no means of so favourable a character as the pre-
ceding:—“ Upon the whole, Swift lived a melancholy
instance of the fall of human greatness. His life is a
mournful and striking example of the power of disap-
pointment totally to subvert natural cheerfulness, to
take away the value of every good, and aggravate real
by imaginary evil. The miseries to which human na-
ture is subject made him often think it better never
to have existed at all; and this sentiment led him to
adopt as a maxim, Non nasci homini longè opti-
mum est.' It was under this persuasion that he
always read the third chapter of Job upon his birth-
day; and whoever visited him then was sure to see
that part of the bible lying open before him. .
•
"In short, he lived an honour to the human mind,
and died, as he had lived in his latter years, a sad
monument of the infirmities incident to it; and a
melancholy, mortifying memento to the vanity of
pride of parts. His death eclipsed the gaiety of his
native country, and impoverished the scanty stock
of public virtue.'
See a critique in the Edinburgh Review (No. p 5
as an example.
b The author of the "Swift ana."
TRAVELS
INTO SEVERAL REMOTE NATIONS OF THE WORLD,
BY
LEMUEL GULLIVER,
FIRST A SURGEON, AND THEN A CAPTAIN OF SEVERAL SHIPS.
IN FOUR PARTS.
1. A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.-II. A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.-III. A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, BALNIBARBI,
LUGGNAGG, GLUBBDUBDRIB, AND JAPAN.—IV. A VOYAGE TO THE COUNTRY OF THE HOUYHnhnms.
Splendidè mendax.-Hoв.
JOHNSON, Warton, and Hawkesworth, made the following
observations on the work:-
This important year sent into the world 'Gulliver's
Travels; a production so new and so strange, that it filled the
reader with a mingled emotion of merriment and amazemeut.
It was received with such avidity, that the price of the first
edition was raised before the second could be made it was
read by the high and the low, the learned and illiterate. Cri-
ticism was, for a while, lost in wonder. No rules of judgment
were applied to a book written in open defiance of truth and
regularity. But when distinctions came to be made, the part
which gave least pleasure was that which describes the Flying
Island, and that which gave most disgust must be the history
of the Houyhnhnms. While Swift was enjoying the reputation
of his new work the news of the king's death arrived; and he
kissed the hands of the new king and queen three days after
their accession."
↓
Gulliver's Travels' and the Tale of a Tub' are indis-
putably the two most capital works of Swift."
"
From the whole of those two voyages to Lilliput and Brob-
dingnag arises one general remark, which, however obvious,
has been overlooked by those who consider them as little more
than the sport of a wanton imagination. When human
actions are ascribed to pigmies and giants, there are few
that do not excite either contempt, disgust, or horror; to
Ascribe them, therefore, to such beings, was perhaps the most
probable method of engaging the mind to examine them with
attention, and judge of them with impartiality, by suspending
the fascination of habit, and exhibiting familiar objects in a
new light. The use of the fable, then, is not less apparent than
importaut and extensive; and that this use was intended by
the author can be doubted only by those who are disposed to
uffirm that order and regularity are the effects of chance.
To mortify pride, which, indeed, was not made for man,
and produces not only the most ridiculous follies, but the most
extensive calamity, appears to have been one general view of
the author in every part of these Travels Personal strength
and beauty, the wisdom and the virtue of mankind, become
objects, not of pride, but of humility, in the diminutive stature
and contemptible weakness of the Lilliputians, in the heirid
deformity of the Brobdingnagiaus, in the learned folly of the
Laputians, and in the parallel drawn between our manners
and those of the Houyhnhnms."
THE PUBLISHER TO THE READER.
THE author of these Travels, Mr. Lemuel Gulliver,
is my ancient and intimate friend; there is likewise
some relation between us on the mother's side.
About three years ago, Mr. Gulliver, growing weary
of the concourse of curious people coming to him at
his house in Redriff, made a small purchase of land,
with a convenient house, near Newark, in Notting-
hamshire, his native country, where he now lives re-
tired, yet in good esteem among his neighbours.
Although Mr. Gulliver was born in Nottingham-
shire, where his father dwelt, yet I have heard him
say his family came from Oxfordshire; to confirm
which, I have observed in the churchyard at Ban-
bury, in that county, several tombs and monuments
of the Gullivers.
Before he quitted Redriff he left the custody of
the following papers in my hands, with the liberty
to dispose of them as I should think fit. I have
carefully perused them three times. The style is
VOL. I.
very plain and simple; and the only fault I find is
that the author, after the manner of travellers, is a
little too circumstantial. There is an air of truth
apparent through the whole; and, indeed, the au-
thor was so distinguished for his veracity, that it
became a sort of proverb among his neighbours at
Redriff, when any one affirmed a thing, to say "it
was as true as if Mr. Gulliver had spoken it."
By the advice of several worthy persons, to whom,
with the author's permission, I communicated these
papers, I now venture to send them into the world,
hoping they may be, at least for some time, a better
entertainment to our young noblemen than the com-
mon scribbles of politics and party.
This volume would have been at least twice as
large, if I had not made bold to strike out innume-
rable passages relating to the winds and tides, as
well as to the variations and bearings in the several
voyages, together with the minute descriptions of
the management of the ship in storms, in the style
of sailors; likewise the account of longitudes and la-
titudes; wherein I have reason to apprehend that
Mr. Gulliver may be a little disatisfied: but I was
resolved to fit the work as much as possible to the
general capacity of readers.
general capacity of readers. However, if my own ig-
norance in sea affairs shall have led me to commit
some mistakes, I alone am answerable for them :
and if any traveller has a curiosity to see the whole
work at large, as it came from the hands of the
author, I will be ready to gratify him.
As for any further particulars relating to the au-
thor, the reader will receive satisfaction from the
first pages of the book. RICHARD SYMPSON.
A LETTER FROM CAPTAIN GULLIVER TO HIS COUSIN
SYMPSON, WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1727.
I HOPE you will be ready to own publicly, whenever
you shall be called to it, that, by your great and
frequent urgency, you prevailed on me to publish a
very loose and uncorrect account of my travels, with
direction to hire some young gentleman of either
university to put them in order, and correct the
style, as my cousin Dampier did, by my advice, in
his book called "A Voyage Round the World.'
But I do not remember I gave you power to consent
that anything should be omitted, and much less that
anything should be inserted: therefore, as to the
latter, I do here renounce everything of that kind,
particularly a paragraph about her majesty queen
Anne, of most pious and glorious memory, although
I did reverence and esteem her more than any of
the human species. But you, or your interpolator,
ought to have considered that, as it was not my
inclination, so was it not decent, to praise any animal
of our composition before my ruaster Houyhnhnm &
B
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
or
and, besides, the fact was altogether false; for to
my knowledge, being in England during some part
of her majesty's reign, she did govern by a chief
minister; nay, even by two successively; the first
whereof was the lord of Godolphin, and the second
the lord of Oxford; so that you have made me say
the thing that was not. Likewise, in the account
of the academy of projectors, and several passages of
my discourse to my master Houyhnhnm, you have
either omitted some material circumstances,
minced or changed them in such a manner that I
do hardly know my own work. When I formerly
hinted to you something of this in a letter, you
were pleased to answer, "that you were afraid of
giving offence; that people in power were very
watchful over the press, and apt not only to inter-
pret but to punish everything which looked like an
inuendo" (as I think you call it). But, pray, how
could that which I spoke so many years ago, and at
above five thousand leagues distance, in another
reign, be applied to any of the Yahoos who now are
said to govern the herd; especially at a time when
I little thought on or feared the unhappiness of
living under them? Have not I the most reason to
complain, when I see these very Yahoos carried by
Houyhnhnms in a vehicle, as if these were brutes,
and those the rational creatures? And, indeed, to
avoid so monstrous and detestable a sight was one
principal motive of my retirement hither.
Thus much I thought proper to tell you in rela-
tion to yourself, and to the trust I reposed in you.
I do, in the next place, complain of my own great
want of judgment, in being prevailed upon, by the
entreaties and false reasonings of you and some
others, very much against my own opinion, to suffer
my travels to be published. Pray bring to your
mind how often I desired you to consider, when
you insisted on the motive of public good, that the
Fahoos were a species of animals utterly incapable
of amendment by precepts or example: and so it
has proved for, instead of seeing a full stop put to
all abuses and corruptions, at least in this little.
island, as I had reason to expect,-behold, after
above six months' warning, I cannot learn that my
book has produced one single effect according to my
intentions. I desired you would let me know, by a
letter, when party and faction were extinguished;
judges learned and upright; pleaders honest and
modest, with some tincture of common sense, and
Smithfield blazing with pyramids of law-books; the
young nobility's education entirely changed; the
physicians banished; the female Yahoos abounding
in virtue, honour, truth, and good sense; courts and
levees of great ministers thoroughly weeded and
swept; wit, merit, and learning rewarded; all dis-
gracers of the press, in prose and verse, condemned
to eat nothing but their own cotton, and quench
their thirst with their own ink. These and a thou-
sand other reformations I firmly counted upon by
your encouragement; as, indeed, they were plainly
deducible from the precepts delivered in my book.
And it must be owned that seven months were a
sufficient time to correct every vice and folly to
which Yahoos are subject, if their natures had been
capable of the least disposition to virtue or wisdom.
Yet, so far have you been from answering my expect-
ation in any of your letters, that, on the contrary,
you are loading our carrier every week with libels,
and keys, and reflections, and memoirs, and second
parts; wherein I see myself accused of reflecting
upon great state folks; of degrading human nature,
(for so they have still the confidence to style it,) and
of abusing the female sex. I find, likewise, that the
writers of those bundles are not agreed among them-
selves; for some of them will not allow me to be
the author of my own travels, and others make me
author of books to which I am wholly a stranger.
I find, likewise, that your printer has been so
careless as to confound the times, and mistake the
dates, of my several voyages and returns; neither
assigning the true year, nor the true month, nor day
of the month: and I hear the original manuscript
is all destroyed since the publication of my book;
neither have I any copy left. However, I have sent
you some corrections, which you may insert, if ever
there should be a second edition; and yet I cannot
stand to them, but shall leave that matter to my
judicious and candid readers, to adjust it as they
please
I hear some of our sea Yahoos find fault with my
sea language, as not proper in many parts, nor now
in use.
I cannot help it. In my first voyages
while I was young, I was instructed by the oldest
mariners, and learned to speak as they did. But I
have since found that the sea Yahoos are apt, like
the land ones, to become new-fangled in their words,
which the latter change every year; insomuch, as I
remember, upon each return to my own country,
their old dialect was so altered, that I could hardly
understand the new. And I observe, when any
Yahoo comes from London, out of curiosity, to visit
me at my house, we neither of us are able to deliver
our conceptions in a manner intelligible to the other.
If the censure of the Yahoos could anyway affect
I should have great reason to complain that
some of them are so bold as to think my book of
travels a mere fiction out of mine own brain; and
have gone so far as to drop hints, that the Hou-
yhnhnms and Tahoos have no more existence than
the inhabitants of Utopia.
I me,
Indeed I must confess that, as to the people of
Lilliput, Brobdingrag, (for so the word should have
been spelt, and not erroneously Brobdingnag,) and
Laputa, I have never yet heard of any Yahoo so pre-
sumptuous as to dispute their being, or the facts I
have related concerning them; because the truth
immediately strikes every reader with conviction.
And is there less probability in my account of the
Houyhnhnms or Yahoos, when it is manifest, as to
the latter, there are so many thousands, even in this
country, who only differ from their brother brutes
in Houyhnhnm-land because they use a sort of jabber,
and do not go naked? I wrote for their amendment,
and not their approbation. The united praise of
the whole race would be of less consequence to me
than the neighing of those two degenerate Hou-
yhnhnms I keep in my stable; because from these,
degenerate as they are, I still improve in some virtues,
without any mixture of vice.
Do these miserable animals presume to think that
I am so degenerated as to defend my veracity? Yahoo
as I am, it is well known through all Houyhnhnm-
land that, by the instructions and example of my
illustrious master, I was able, in the compass of two
years, (although, I confess, with the utmost difficulty,)
to remove that infernal habit of lying, shuffling, de-
ceiving, and equivocating, so deeply rooted in the
very souls of all my species, especially the Europeans.
I have other complaints to make upon this vexa-
tious occasion; but I forbear troubling myself or
you any further. I must freely confess that since
my last return some corruptions of my Yahoo nature
have revived in me, by conversing with a few of your
species, and particularly those of my own family,
by an unavoidable necessity; else I should never
have attempted so absurd a project as that of re-
forming the Yahoo race in this kingdom: but I have
now done with all such visionary schemes for ever.
3
PART THE FIRST.
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
CHAPTER I.
The author gives some account of himself and family. His
first inducements to travel. He is shipwrecked, and swims
for his life. Gets sale on shore in the country of Lilliput.
Is made a prisoner, and carried up the country.
My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire:
I was the third of five sons. He sent me to Emanuel
College in Cambridge, at fourteen years old, where
I resided three years, and applied myself close to
my studies; but the charge of maintaining me, al-
though I had a very scanty allowance, being too
great for a narrow fortune, I was bound apprentice
to Mr. James Bates, an eminent surgeon in London,
with whom I continued four years: my father now
and then sending me small sums of money, I laid
them out in learning navigation, and other parts of
the mathematics, useful to those who intend to travel,
as I always believed it would be, some time or other,
When I left Mr. Bates I went
my fortune to do.
down to my father, where, by the assistance of him
and my uncle John, and some other relations, I got
forty pounds, and a promise of thirty pounds a-year
to maintain me at Leyden: there I studied physic
two years and seven months, knowing it would be
useful in long voyages.
Soon after my return from Leyden I was recom-
mended by my good master, Mr. Bates, to be sur-
geon to the Swallow, captain Abraham Pannel,
commander, with whom I continued three years
and a half, making a voyage or two into the Levant,
and some other parts. When I came back I re-
solved to settle in London, to which Mr. Bates my
master encouraged me, and by him I was recom-
mended to several patients. I took part of a small
house in the Old Jewry; and, being advised to alter
my condition, I married Miss Mary Burton, second
daughter to Mr. Edmund Burton, hosier, in New-
gate-street, with whom I received four hundred
pounds for a portion.
But my good master Bates dying in two years
after, and I having few friends, my business began
to fail; for my conscience would not suffer me to
imitate the bad practice of too many among my
brethren. Having therefore consulted with my
wife and some of my acquaintance, I determined
to go again to sea. was surgeon successively
in two ships, and made several voyages, for six
years, to the East and West Indies, by which I
got some addition to my fortune. My hours of
leisure I spent in reading the best author ancient
and modern, being always provided with a good
number of books; and when I was a-shore, in ob-
serving the manners and dispositions of the people,
as well as learning their language, wherein I had a
great facility, by the strength of my memory.
The last of these voyages not proving very for-
tunate, I grew weary of the sea, and intended to
stay at home with my wife and family. I removed
from the Old Jewry to Fetter-lane, and from thence
to Wapping, hoping to get business among the
sailors; but it would not turn to account. After
three years' expectation that things would mend, I
accepted an advantageous offer from captain William
Prichard, master of the Antelope, who was making
a voyage to the South Sea. We set sail from Bristol
May 4, 1699, and our voyage at first was very pros
perous.
We
For my
It would not be proper, for some reasons, to
trouble the reader with the particulars of our ad-
ventures in those seas: let it suffice to inform him
that, in our passage from thence to the East Indies,
we were driven by a violent storm to the north-west
of Van Diemen's Land. By an observation we
found ourselves in the latitude of 30° 2′ south.
Twelve of our crew were dead by immoderate
labour and ill food; the rest were in a very weak
condition. On the 5th of November, which was
the beginning of summer in those parts, the weather
being very hazy, the seamen spied a rock within
half a cable's length of the ship; but the wind was
so strong that we were driven directly upon it, and
immediately split. Six of the crew, of whom I was
one, having let down the boat into the sea, made a
shift to get clear of the ship and the rock.
rowed, by my computation, about three leagues, till
we were able to work no longer, being already spent
with labour while we were in the ship. We there-
fore trusted ourselves to the mercy of the waves, and
in about half an hour the boat was overset by a
sudden flurry from the north. What became of my
companions in the boat, as well as of those who es-
caped on the rock, or were left in the vessel, I can-
not tell, but conclude they were all lost.
own part, I swam as Fortune directed me, and was
pushed forward by wind and tide. I often let my
legs drop, and could feel no bottom; but when I
was almost gone, and able to struggle no longer, I
found myself within my depth, and by this time the
storm was much abated. The declivity was so small
that I walked near a mile before I got to the shore,
which I conjectured was about eight o'clock in the
evening. I then advanced forward near half a mile,
but could not discover any sign of houses or inhabit-
ants; at least I was in so weak a condition that I
did not observe them. I was extremely tired, and
with that and the heat of the weather, and about
half a pint of brandy that I drank as 1 left the ship,
I found myself much inclined to sleep. I lay down
on the grass, which was very short and soft, where
I slept sounder than ever I remembered to have
done in my life, and, as I reckoned, about nine
hours, for when 1 awaked it was just daylight. I
attempted to rise, but was not able to stir; for, as 1
happened to lie on my back, I found my arms and
legs were strongly fastened on each side to the
ground, and my hair, which was long and thick,
tied down in the same manner. I likewise felt
several slender ligatures across my body, from my
arm-pits to my thighs. I could only look upwards;
the sun began to grow hot, and the light offended
I heard a confused noise about me, but,
my eyes.
in the posture I lay, could see nothing except the
sky. In a little time I felt something alive moving
on my left leg, which, advancing gently forward
over my breast, came almost to my chin; when,
bending my eyes downward as much as I could, I
perceived it to be a human creature not six inches
high, with a bow and arrow in his hands, and a
quiver at his back. In the mean time, I felt at least
forty more of the same kind (as I conjectured) fol
B 2
4
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
lowing the first. I was in the utmost astonishment,
and roared so loud that they all ran back in a fright;
and some of them, as I was afterwards told, were
hurt with the falls they got by leaping from my sides
upon the ground. However, they soon returned;
and one of them, who ventured so far as to get a
full sight of my face, lifting up his hands and eyes
by way of admiration, cried out, in a shrill but dis-
tinct voice, Hekinah degul; the others repeated the
same words several times; but I then knew not
what they meant. I lay all this while, as the reader
may believe, in great uneasiness. At length, strug-
gling to get loose, I had the fortune to break the
strings, and wrench out the pegs that fastened my
left arm to the ground; for, by lifting it up to my
face, I discovered the methods they had taken to
bind me, and, at the same time, with a violent pull,
which gave me excessive pain, I a little loosened the
strings that tied down my hair on the left side, so
that I was just able to turn my head about two
inches. But the creatures ran off a second time
before I could seize them; whereupon there was a
great shout, in a very shrill accent, and, after it
ceased, I heard one of them cry aloud, Tolgo phonac;
when, in an instant, I felt above an hundred arrows
discharged on my left hand, which pricked me like
so many needles; and besides, they shot another
flight into the air, as we do bombs in Europe,
whereof many, I suppose, fell on my body (though
I felt them not), and some on my face, which I im-
mediately covered with my left hand. When this
shower of arrows was over I fell a-groaning with
grief and pain; and then, striving again to get loose,
they discharged another volley, larger than the first,
and some of them attempted, with spears, to stick
me in the sides; but, by good luck, I had on me a
buff jerkin, which they could not pierce. I thought
it the most prudent method to lie still; and my de-
sign was to continue so till night, when, my left
hand being already loose, I could easily free myself;
and as for the inhabitants, I had reason to believe
I might be a match for the greatest army they
could bring against me, if they were all of the same
size with him that I saw. But fortune disposed
otherwise of me. When the people observed I was
quiet they discharged no more arrows; but by the
noise I heard I knew their numbers increased; and
about four yards from me, over against my right
ear, I heard a knocking for above an hour, like that
of people at work, when, turning my head that way
as well as the pegs and strings would permit me, I
saw a stage erected about a foot and a half from the
ground, capable of holding four of the inhabitants,
with two or three ladders to mount it; from whence
one of them, who seemed to be a person of quality,
made me a long speech, whereof I understood not
one syllable. But I should have mentioned that,
before the principal person began his oration, he
cried out three times, Langro dehul san (these words
and the former were afterwards repeated and ex-
plained to me); whereupon, immediately, about
fifty of the inhabitants came and cut the strings that
fastened the left side of my head, which gave me
the liberty of turning it to the right, and of observ-
ing the person and gesture of him that was to speak.
He appeared to be of a middle age, and taller than
any of the other three who attended him; whereof
one was a page, that held up his train, and seemed
to be somewhat longer than my middle finger; the
other two stood one on each side to support him.
He acted every part of an orator, and I could ob-
serve many periods of threatenings, and others of
promises, pity, and kindness. I answered in a few
words, but in the most submissive manner, lifting
.
up my left hand and both my eyes to the sun, as
calling him for a witness; and being almost famished
with hunger, having not eaten a morsel for some
ho before I left the ship, I found the demands of
nature so strong upon me that I could not forbear
showing my impatience (perhaps against the strict
rules of decency), by putting my finger frequently
to my mouth, to signify that I wanted food. The
hurgo (for so they call a great lord, as I afterwards
learned) understood me very well. He descended·
from the stage, and commanded that several ladders
should be applied to my sides, on which above a
hundred of the inhabitants mounted, and walked
towards my mouth, laden with baskets full of meat,
which had been provided and sent thither by the
king's orders, upon the first intelligence he received
of me. I observed there was the flesh of several
animals, but could not distinguish them by the taste.
There were shoulders, legs, and loins, shaped like
those of mutton, and very well dressed, but smaller
than the wings of a lark. I eat them by two or
three at a mouthful, and took three loaves at a time,
about the bigness of musket-bullets. They supplied
me as fast as they could, showing a thousand marks
of wonder and astonishment at my bulk and appe-
tite. I then made another sign, that I wanted
drink. They found by my eating that a small quan-
tity would not suffice me; and, being a most inge-
nious people, they slung up, with great dexterity,
one of their largest hogsheads, then rolled it towards
my hand, and beat out the top: I drank it off at a
draught, which I might well do, for it did not hold
half a pint, and tasted like a small wine of Bur-
gundy, but much more delicious. They brought me
a second hogshead, which I drank in the same
manner, and made signs for more, but they had
none to give me. When I had performed these
wonders they shouted for joy, and danced upon my
breast, repeating several times, as they did at first,
Hekinah degul. They made me a sign that I should
throw down the two hogsheads, but first warning
the people below to stand out of the way, crying
aloud, Borach mcvolah; and when they saw the
vessels in the air, there was a universal shout of
IIekinah degul. I confess I was often tempted,
while they were passing backwards and forwards on
my body, to seize forty or fifty of the first that came
in my reach, and dash them against the ground.
But the remembrance of what I had felt, which pro-
bably might not be the worst they could do, and the
promise of honour I made them-for so I interpreted
my submissive behaviour-soon drove out these
imaginations. Besides, I now considered myself as
bound by the laws of hospitality to a people who
had treated me with so much expense and mag-
nificence. However, in my thoughts I could not
sufficiently wonder at the intrepidity of these dimi-
nutive mortals, who durst venture to mount and
walk upon my body, while one of my hands was at
liberty, without trembling at the very sight of so
prodigious a creature as I must appear to them.
After some time, when they observed that I made
no more demands for meat, there appeared before
me a person of high rank from his imperial majesty.
His excellency, having mounted on the small of my
right leg, advanced forwards up to my face, with
about a dozen of his retinue; and, producing his
credentials, under the signet-royal, which he applied
close to my eyes, spoke about ten minutes without
any signs of anger, but with a kind of determined
resolution, often pointing forwards, which, as I af-
terwards found, was towards the capital city, about
half a mile distant; whither it was agreed by his
majesty in council that I must be conveyed.
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
answered in a few words, but to no purpose, and
made a sign with my hand that was loose, putting
it to the other (but over his excellency's head,
for fear of hurting him or his train), and then to
my own head and body, to signify that I desired
my liberty. It appeared that he understood me
well enough, for he shook his head by way of dis-
approbation, and held his hand in a posture to show
that I must be carried as a prisoner. However, he
made other signs, to let me know that I should have
meat and drink enough, and very good treatment.
Whereupon I once more thought of attempting to
break my bonds; but again, when I felt the smart
of the arrows upon my face and hands, which were
all in blisters, and many of the darts still sticking in
them, and observing likewise that the number of
my enemies increased, I gave tokens to let them
know that they might do with me what they pleased.
Upon this the hurgo and his train withdrew, with
much civility and cheerful countenances. Soon
after I heard a general shout, with frequent repe-
titions of the words, Peplom selan; and I felt great
numbers of people on my left side, relaxing the cords
to such a degree that I was able to turn upon my
right, and to ease myself with making water, which
I very plentifully did, to the great astonishment of
the people, who, conjecturing by my motion what I
was going to do, immediately opened to the right
and left on that side, to avoid the torrent which fell
with noise and violence from me. But before
this they had daubed my face and both my hands.
with a sort of ointment, very pleasant to the smell,
which, in a few minutes, removed all the smart of
their arrows. These circumstances, added to the
refreshment I had received by their victuals and
drink, which were very nourishing, disposed me to
sleep. I slept about eight hours, as I was after-
wards assured; and it was no wonder, for the phy-shoot me if I should offer to stir.
sicians, by the emperor's order, had mingled a sleepy
potion in the hogsheads of wine.
wheels. The shout I heard was upon the arrival of
this engine, which, it seems, set out in four hours
after my landing. It was brought parallel to me as
I lay.
But the principal difficulty was to raise and
place me in this vehicle. Eighty poles, each of one
foot high, were erected for this purpo-e, and very
strong cords, of the bigness of pack-thread, were
fastened by hooks to many bandages which the
workmen had girt round my neck, my hands, my
body, and my legs. Nine hundred of the strongest
men were employed to draw up these cords, by many
pulleys fastened on the poles; and thus, in less than
three hours, I was raised and slung into the engine,
and there tied fast. All this I was told; for, while
the whole operation was performing, I lay in a pro-
found sleep, by the force of that soporiferous medi-
cine infused into my liquor. Fifteen hundred of
the emperor's largest horses, each about four inches
and a half high, were employed to draw me towards
the metropolis, which, as I said, was half a mile
distant.
It seems that, upon the first moment I was dis-
covered sleeping on the ground after my landing,
the emperor had early notice of it by an express,
and determined, in council, that I should be tied in
the manner I have related (which was done in the
night, while I slept), that plenty of meat and drink
should be sent to me, and a machine prepared to
carry me to the capital city.
This resolution, perhaps, may appear very bold
and dangerous, and, I am confident, would not be
imitated by any prince in Europe on the like occa-
sion. However, in my opinion, it was extremely
prudent, as well as generous; for, supposing these
people had endeavoured to kill me with their spears
and arrows while I was asleep, I should certainly
have awaked with the first sense of smart, which
might so far have roused my rage and strength as to
have enabled me to break the strings wherewith I
was tied; after which, as they were not able to
make resistance, so they could expect no mercy.
These people are most excellent mathematicians,
and arrived to a great perfection in mechanics, by
the countenance and encouragement of the emperor,
who is a renowned patron of learning. This prince
has several machines fixed on wheels, for the carriage
of trees and other great weights. He often builds
his largest inen-of-war, whereof some are nine feet
long, in the woods where the timber grows, and has
them carried on these engines three or four hundred
yards to the sea. Five hundred carpenters and en-
gincers were immediately set at work to prepare the
greatest engine they had. It was a frame of wood
raised three inches from the ground, about seven
feet long, and four wide, moving upon twenty-two
About four hours after we began our journey, I
awaked by a very ridiculous accident; for the
carriage being stopped awhile, to adjust something
that was out of order, two or three of the young na-
tives had the curiosity to see how I looked when I
was asleep; they climbed up into the engine, and,
advancing very softly to my face, one of them, an
officer in the guards, put the sharp end of his half-
pike a good way up into my left nostril, which
tickled my nose like a straw, and made me sneeze
violently; whereupon they stole off unperceived, and
it was three weeks before I knew the cause of my
waking so suddenly. We made a long march the
remaining part of the day, and rested at night with
five hundred guards on each side of me, half with
torches and half with bows and arrows, ready to
The next morn-
ing at sunrise we continued our march, and arrived
within two hundred yards of the city-gates about
noon. The emperor, and all his court, came out to
meet us; but his great officers would by no means
suffer his majesty to endanger his person by mount-
ing on my body.
At the place where the carriage stopped there
stood an ancient temple, esteemed to be the largest
in the whole kingdom; which, having been pol-
luted some years before by an unnatural murder,
was, according to the zeal of those people, looked
upon as profane, and therefore had been applied to
common use, and all the ornaments and furniture
carried away.
In this edifice it was determined I
should lodge. The great gate fronting to the north
was about four feet high, and almost two feet wide,
through which I could easily creep. On each side
of the gate was a small window, not above six inches
from the ground: into that on the left side the
king's smith conveyed fourscore and eleven chains,
like those that hang to a lady's watch in Europe,
and almost as large, which were locked to my left
leg with six-and-thirty padlocks. Over against this
temple, on the other side of the great highway, at
twenty feet distance, there was a turret at least five
feet high. Here the emperor ascended, with many
principal lords of his court, to have an opportunity
of viewing me, as I was told, for I could not see
them. It was reckoned that above a hundred thou-
sand inhabitants came out of the town upon the
same errand; and, in spite of my guards, I believe
there could not be fewer than ten thousand at se-
veral times, who mounted my body by the help of
ladders. But a proclamation was soon issued to
forbid it upon pain of death. When the workmen
found it was impossible for me to break loose, they
6
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
cut all the strings that bound me; whereupon I rose
up with as melancholy a disposition as ever I had in
my life.
But the noise and astonishment of the
people at seeing me rise and walk are not to be ex-
pressed. The chains that held my left leg were about
two yards long, and gave me not only the liberty of
walking backwards and forwards in a semicircle,
but, being fixed within four inches of the gate,
allowed me to creep in, and lie at my full length in
the temple.
CHAPTER II.
The emperor of Lilliput, attended by several of the nobility,
comes to see the author in his continement. The emperor's
person and habit described. Learned men appointed to
teach the author their language. He gains favour by his
mild disposition. His pockets are searched, and his sword
and pistols taken from him.
WHEN I found myself on my feet I looked about
me, and must confess I never beheld a more enter-
taining prospect. The country around appealed
like a continued garden, and the enclosed fields,
which were generally forty feet square, resembled
so many beds of flowers. These fields were inter-
mingled with woods of half a stang [a pole or perch,
54 yds.], and the tallest trees, as I could judge, ap-
peared to be seven feet high. I viewed the town
on my left hand, which looked like the painted
scene of a city in a theatre.
I had been for some hours extremely pressed by
the necessities of nature, which was no wonder, it
being almost two days since I had last disburdened
myself. I was under great difficulties between
urgency and shame. The best expedient I could
think on was to creep into my house, which I ac-
cordingly did; and, shutting the gate after me, I
went as far as the length of my chain would suffer,
and discharged my body of that uneasy load. But
But
this was the only time I was ever guilty of so un-
cleanly an action, for which I cannot but hope the
candid reader will give some allowance, after he has
maturely and impartially considered my case, and
the distress I was in. From this time my con-
stant practice was, as soon as I rose, to perform
that business in open air, at the full extent of my
chain;
and due care was taken every morning
before company came that the offensive matter
should be carried off in wheelbarrows, by two ser-
vants appointed for that purpose. I would not have
dwelt so long upon a circumstance that, perhaps,
at first sight, may appear not very momentous, if I
had not thought it necessary to justify my character,
in point of cleanliness, to the world, which, I am
told, some of my maligners have been pleased, upon
this and other occasions, to call in question.
When this adventure was at an end I came back
out of my house, having occasion for fresh air.
The emperor was already descending from the
tower, and advancing on horseback towards me,
which had like to have cost him dear; for the beast,
though very well trained, yet wholly unused to such
a sight, which appeared as if a mountain moved
before him, reared up on his hinder feet; but that
prince, who is an excellent horseman, kept his seat
till his attendants ran in and held the bridle while
his majesty had time to dismount. When he alighted
he surveyed me round with great admiration, but
kept beyond the length of my chain. He ordered
his cooks and butlers, who were already prepared,
to give me victuals and drink, which they pushed
forward in a sort of vehicles upon wheels, till I could
reach them. I took these vehicles, and soon emptied
them all; twenty of them were filled with meat. and
ten with liquor, each of the former afforded me two
or three good mouthsful; and I emptied the liquor
of ten vessels, which was contained in earthen
vials, into one vehicle, drinking it off at a draught;
and so I did with the rest. The empress and young
princes of the blood of both sexes, attended by
many ladies, sat at some distance in their chairs;
but upon the accident that happened to the em-
peror's horse they alighted, and came near his per-
son, which I am now going to describe.
He 18
taller, by almost the breadth of my nail, than any of
his court, which alone is enough to strike an awe
into his beholders. His features are strong and
masculine, with an Austrian lip and arched nose,
his complexion olive, his countenance erect, his
body and limbs well proportioned, all his motions
graceful, and his deportment majestic.
He was
then past his prime, being twenty-eight years and
three quarters old, of which he had reigned about
seven in great felicity, and generally victorious. For
the better convenience of beholding him I lay on
my side, so that my face was parallel to his, and he
stood but three yards off; however, I have had him
since many times in my hand, and therefore cannot
be deceived in the description. His dress was very
plain and simple, and the fashion of it between the
Asiatic and the European; but he had on his head
a light helmet of gold, adorned with jewels, and a
plume on the crest. He held his sword drawn in
his hand to defend himself if I should happen to
break loose; it was almost three inches long; the
hilt and scabbard were gold enriched with diamonds.
His voice was shrill, but very clear and articulate;
and I could distinctly hear it when I stood up. The
ladies and courtiers were all most magnificently clad;
so that the spot they stood upon seemed to resemble
a petticoat spread on the ground, embroidered with
figures of gold and silver. His imperial majesty
spoke often to me, and I returned answers; but
neither of us could understand a syllable. There
were several of his priests and lawyers present (as
I conjectured by their habits), who were commanded
to address themselves to me; and I spoke to them
in as many languages as I had the least smattering
of, which were high and low Dutch, Latin, French,
Spanish, Italian, and Lingua Franca, but all to no
purpose. After about two hours the court retired,
and I was left with a strong guard to prevent the
impertinence, and probably the malice, of the rabble,
who were very impatient to crowd about me as
near as they durst; and some of them had the im-
pudence to shoot their arrows at me as I sat on the
ground by the door of my house, whereof one very
narrowly missed my left eye. But the colonel or-
dered six of the ringleaders to be seized, and thought
no punishment so proper as to deliver them bound
into my hands; which some of his soldiers accord-
ingly did, pushing them forward with the butt-ends
of their pikes into my reach. I took them all in my
right hand, put five of them into my coat-pocket,
and as to the sixth, I made a countenance as if I
would eat him alive. The poor man squalled ter-
ribly, and the colonel and his officers were in much
pain, especially when they saw me take out my pen-
knife; but I soon put them out of fear, for, looking
mildly and immediately cutting the strings he was
bound with, I set him gently on the ground, and
away he ran. I treated the rest in the same manner,
taking them one by one out of my pocket; and I
observed both the soldiers and people were highly
delighted at this mark of my clemency, which was
represented very much to my advantage at court.
Towards night I got with some difliculty into my
house, where I lay on the ground, and continued to
do so about a fortnight; during which time the
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
7
I
emperor gave orders to have a bed prepared for me.
Six hundred beds of the common measure were
brought in carriages, and worked up in my house;
a hundred and fifty of their beds, sewn together,
made up the breadth and length; and these were
four double, which, however, kept me but very in-kingdom.
differently from the hardness of the floor, that was
of smooth stone. By the same computation they
provided me with sheets, blankets, and coverlets,
tolerable enough for one who had been so long
inured to hardships.
As the news of my arrival spread through the
kingdom, it brought prodigious numbers of rich,
idle, and curious people to see me, so that the vil-
lages were almost emptied; and great neglect of
tillage and household affairs must have ensued if
his imperial majesty had not provided, by several
proclamations and orders of state, against this in-
conveniency. He directed that those who had al-
ready beheld me should return home, and not pre-
sume to come within fifty yards of my house without
licence from the court; whereby the secretaries of
state got considerable fees.
In the mean time the emperor held frequent coun-
ils to debate what course should be taken with me;
and I was afterwards assured by a particular friend,
a person of great quality, who was as much in the
secret as any, that the court was under many dif
ficulties concerning me. They apprehended my
breaking loose; that my diet would be very ex-
pensive, and might cause a famine. Sometimes
they determined to starve me, or at least to shoot
me in the face and hands with poisoned arrows,
which would soon despatch me; but again they con-
sidered that the stench of so large a carcase might
produce a plague in the metropolis, and probably
spread through the whole kingdom. In the midst
of these consultations several officers of the army
went to the door of the great council-chamber, and
two of them, being admitted, gave an account of my
behaviour to the six criminals above mentioned,
which made so favourable an impression in the
breast of his majesty and the whole board in my
behalf, that an imperial commission was issued out,
obliging all the villages, nine hundred yards round
the city, to deliver in every morning six beeves, forty
sheep, and other victuals, for my sustenance; to-
gether with a proportionable quantity of bread, and
wine and other liquors; for the due payment of
which his majesty gave assignments upon his trea-
sury; for this prince lives chiefly upon his own
demesnes; seldom, except upon great occasions,
raising any subsidies upon his subjects, who are
bound to attend him in his wars at their own ex-
pense. An establishment was also made of six
hundred persons to be my domestics, who had board
wages allowed for their maintenance, and tents built
for them, very conveniently on each side of my door.
It was likewise ordered that three hundred tailors
should make me a suit of lothes after the fashion
of the country; that six of his majesty's greatest
scholars should be employed to instruct me in their
language; and lastly, that the emperor's horses, and
those of the nobility and troops of guards, should
be frequently exercised in my sight, to accustom
themselves to me. All these orders were duly put
in execution; and in about three weeks I made a
great progress in learning their language; during
which time the emperor frequently honoured me
with his visits, and was pleased to assist my masters
in teaching me. We began already to converse to-
gether in some sort; and the first words I learnt
were to express my desire "that he would please
to give me my liberty;" which I every day repeated
|
1 on my knees. His answer, as I could apprehend
"that this must be a work of time, not to
it, was,
be thought on without the advice of his council, and
that first I must lumos kelmin pesso desmar lon em-
that first I must lumos kelmin
poso;" that is, swear a peace with him and his
However, that I should be used with all
kindness. And he advised me to "acquire, by my
patience and discreet behaviour, the good opinion of
himself and his subjects." He desired "I would
not take it ill if he gave orders to certain proper
officers to search me; for probably I might carry
about me several weapons which must needs be
dangerous things, if they answered the bulk of sc
prodigious a person." I said,
I said, "his majesty should
be satisfied, for I was ready to strip myself and turn
up my pockets before him." This I delivered part
in words and part in signs. He replied, "that by
the laws of the kingdom I must be searched by two
of his officers; that he knew this could not be done
without my consent and assistance; and he had so
good an opinion of my generosity and justice as to
trust their persons in my hands; that whatever they
took from me should be returned when I left the
country, or paid for at the rate which I would set
upon them."
I took up the two officers in my
hands, put them first into my coat-pockets, and then
into every other pocket about me, except my two
fobs, and another secret pocket, which I had no
mind should be searched, wherein I had some little
necessaries that were of no consequence to any but
myself. In one of my fobs there was a silver watch,
and in the other a small quantity of gold in a purse.
These gentlemen, having pen, ink, and paper about
them, made an exact inventory of everything they
saw; and when they had done desired I would set
them down, that they might deliver it to the em-
peror.
This inventory I afterwards translated into
English, and is, word for word, as follows:
Imprimis, in the right coat-pocket of the great
Man-mountain (for so I interpret the words quinbus
flestrin), after the strictest search, we found only
one great piece of coarse cloth, large enough to be
a footcloth for your majesty's chief room of state.
In the left pocket we saw a huge silver chest, with
a cover of the same metal, which we the searchers
were not able to lift. We desired it should be
opened, and one of us stepping into it found him-
self up to the mid-leg in a sort of dust, some part
whereof, flying up to our faces, set us both a sneezing
for several times together. In his right waistcoat-
pocket we found a prodigious bundle of white thin
substances, folded one over another, about the big-
ness of three men, tied with a strong cable, and
marked with black figures, which we humbly con-
ceive to be writings, every letter almost half as large
as the palm of our hands. In the left there was a
sort of engine, from the back of which were ex-
tended twenty long poles, resembling the palisa-
does before your majesty's court, wherewith we
conjecture the Man-mountain combs his head; for
we did not always trouble him with questions, be-
cause we found it a great difficulty to make him un-
derstand us. In the large pocket, on the right side
of his middle cover (so I translate the word ranfu-lo,
by which they meant my breeches), we saw a hollow
pillar of iron, about the length of a man, fastened
to a strong piece of timber larger than the pillar;
and upon one side of the pillar were huge pieces of
iron sticking out, cut into strange figures, which we
know not what to make of. In the left pocket
another engine of the same kind. In the smaller
pocket, on the right side, were several round flat
pieces of white and red metal, of different bulk;
some of the white, which seemed to be silver, were
3
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
shout between terror and surprise: for the sun
shone clear, and the reflection dazzled their eyes as
I waved the scymitar to and fro in my hand.
hand. His
majesty, who is a most magnanimous prince, was
less daunted than I could expect; he ordered me
to return it to the scabbard, and cast it on the
ground as gently as I could, about six feet from the
end of my chain. The next thing he demanded
was one of the hollow iron pillars, by which he
meant my pocket pistols. I drew it out, and, at his
desire, as well as I could, expressed to him the use
of it; and, charging it only with powder, which, by
the closeness of my pouch, happened to escape wet-
ting in the sea (an inconvenience against which all
prudent mariners take special care to provide), I
first cautioned the emperor not to be afraid, and
then I let it off in the air. The astonishment here
was much greater than at the sight of the scymitar.
Hundreds fell down as if they had been struck
dead; and even the emperor, although he stood his
ground, could not recover himself for some time.
I delivered up both my pistols in the same manner
as I had done my scymitar, and then my pouch of
powder and bullets; begging him that the former
might be kept from fire, for it would kindle with
the smallest spark, and blow up his imperial palace
into the air. I likewise delivered up my watch,
which the emperor was very curious to see, and
commanded two of his tallest yeomen of the guards
to bear it on a pole upon their shoulders, as dray-
men in England do a barrel of alc. He was amazed
at the continual noise it made, and the motion of the
so large and heavy that my comrade and I could
hardly lift them. In the left pocket were two black
pillars irregularly shaped; we could not, without
difficulty, reach the top of them as we stood at the
bottom of his pocket. One of them was covered,
One of them was covered,
and seemed all of a piece; but at the upper end of
the other there appeared a white round substance,
about twice the bigness of our heads. Within each
of these was enclosed a prodigious plate of steel;
which, by our orders, we obliged him to show us,
because we apprehended they might be dangerous
engines. He took them out of their cases, and told
us that, in his own country, his practice was to
shave his beard with one of these, and cut his meat
with the other. There were two pockets which we
could not enter; these he called his fobs; they were
two large slits cut into the top of his middle cover,
but squeezed close by the pressure of his belly. Out
of the right fob hung a great silver chain, with a
wonderful kind of engine at the bottom. We di-
rected him to draw out whatever was at the end of
that chain, which appeared to be a globe, half silver,
and half of some transparent metal; for, on the
transparent side, we saw certain strange figures cir-
cularly drawn, and thought we could touch them,
till we found our fingers stopped by that lucid sub-
stance. He put this engine to our ears, which
made an incessant noise, like that of a water-mill;
and we conjecture it is either some unknown animal,
or the god that he worships; but we are more
inclined to the latter opinion, because he assured.
us (if we understood him right, for he expressed
himself very imperfectly) that he seldom did any-minute-hand, which he could easily discern, for their
thing without consulting it. He called it his oracle,
and said it pointed out the time for every action of
his life. From the left fob he took out a net, al
most large enough for a fisherman, but contrived to
open and shut like a purse, and served him for the
same use; we found therein several massy pieces
of yellow metal, which, if they be real gold, must be
of immense value.
Having thus, in obedience to your majesty's
commands, diligently searched all his pockets, we
observed a girdle about his waist, made of the hide
of some prodigious animal, from which, on the left
side, hung a sword of the length of five men; and
on the right, a bag or pouch divided into two cells,
each cell capable of holding three of your majesty's
subjects. In one of these cells were several globes,
or balls, of a most ponderous metal, about the
bigness of our heads, and required a strong hand to
lift them; the other cell contained a heap of certain
black grains, but of no great bulk or weight, for we
could hold above fifty of them in the palms of our hands.
"This is an exact inventory of what we found
about the body of the Man-mountain, who used us
with great civility, and due respect to your ma-
jesty's commission. Signed and sealed on the
fourth day of the eighty-ninth moon of your ma-
jesty's auspicious reign.
"CLEFRIN FRELOCK, MARSI FRELOCK."
When this inventory was read over to the em-
peror, he directed me, although in very gentle
terms, to deliver up the several particulars.
He
first called for my scymitar, which I took out, scab-
bard and all. In the mean time he ordered three
thousand of his choicest troops (who then attended
him) to surround me, at a distance, with their bows
and arrows just ready to discharge; but I did not
observe it, for mine eyes were wholly fixed upon
his majesty.
He then desired me to draw my
scymitar, which, although it had got some rust by
the sea-water, was in most parts exceeding bright.
I is so, and immediately all the troops gave a
sight is much more acute than ours; he asked the
opinions of his learned men about it, which were
various and remote, as the reader may well imagine,
without my repeating; although, indeed, I could
not very perfectly understand them.
I then gave
up my silver and copper money, my purse with nine
large pieces of gold, and some smaller ones; my knife
and razor, my comb and silver snuff-box, my hand-
kerchief and journal-book. My scy mitar, pistols,
and pouch, were conveyed in carriages to his ma-
jesty's stores; but the rest of my goods were re-
turned mc.
I had, as I before observed, one private pocket,
which escaped their search, wherein there was a
pair of spectacles (which I sometimes use for the
weakness of mine eyes), a pocket perspective, and
some other little conveniencies; which, being of no
consequence to the emperor, I did not think myself
bound in honour to discover, and I apprehended
they might be lost or spoiled if I ventured them out
of my possession.
CHAPTER III.
The anthor diverts the emperor, and his nobility of both sexes,
in a very uncommon manner. The diversions of the court
of Lilliput described. The author has his liberty granted
him upon certain conditions.
My gentleness and good behaviour had gained so far
on the emperor and his court, and indeed upon the
army and people in general, that I began to conceive
hopes of getting my liberty in a short time. I took
all possible methods to cultivate this favourable dis-
position. The natives came, by degrees, to be less
apprehensive of any danger from me.
I would some-
times lie down, and let five or six of them dance on
my hand; and at last the boys and girls would ven-
ture to come and play at hide-and-seek in my hair.
I had now made a good progress in understanding
and speaking the language. The emperor had a
mind one day to entertain me with several of the
country shows, wherein they exceed all nations I
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
9
have known, both for dexterity and magnificence.
I was diverted with none so much as that of the
rope-dancers, performed upon a slender white thread,
extended about two feet, and twelve inches from
the ground. Upon which I shall desire liberty,
with the reader's patience, to enlarge a little.
This diversion is only practised by those persons
who are candidates for great employments and high
favour at court. They are trained in this art from
their youth, and are not always of noble birth or
liberal education. When a great office is vacant,
either by death or disgrace, (which often happens,)
five or six of those candidates petition the emperor
to entertain his majesty and the court with a dance
on the rope; and whoever jumps the highest, with-
out falling, succeeds in the office. Very often the
chief ministers themselves are commanded to show
their skill, and to convince the emperor that they
bave not lost their faculty. Flimnap, the treasurer,
is allowed to cut a caper on the straight rope at least
an inch higher than any other lord in the whole
empire. I have seen him do the summerset several
times together, upon a trencher fixed on a rope
which is no thicker than a common packthread in
England. My friend Reldresal, principal secretary
for private affairs, is, in my opinion, if I am not
partial, the second after the treasurer; the rest of
the great officers are much upon a par.
These diversions are often attended with fatal ac-
cidents, whereof great numbers are on record. I
myself have seen two or three candidates break a
limb. But the danger is much greater when the
ministers themselves are commanded to show their
dexterity: for, by contending to excel themselves
and their fellows, they strain so far, that there is
hardly one of them who have not received a fall,
and some of them two or three. I was assured
that, a year or two before my arrival, Flimuap would
infallibly have broke his neck, if one of the king's
cushions, that accidentally lay on the ground, had
not weakened the force of his fall."
The
1
The horses of the army, and those of the royal
stables, having been daily led before me, were no
longer shy, but would come up to my very feet with
out starting. The riders would leap them over my
hand, as I held it on the ground; and one of the
emperor's huntsmen, upon a large courser, took my
foot, shoe and all; which was indeed a prodigious
leap. I had the good fortune to divert the emperor
one day after a very extraordinary manner. I de-
sired he would order several sticks of two feet high,
and the thickness of an ordinary cane, to be brought
me; whereupon his majesty commanded the master
of his woods to give directions accordingly; and the
next morning six woodmen arrived with as many
carriages, drawn by eight horses to each. I took
nine of these sticks, and fixing them firmly in the
ground in a quadrangular figure, two feet and a half
square, I took four other sticks, and tied them pa-
rallel at each corner, about two feet from the ground;
then I fastened my handkerchief to the nine sticks
that stood erect, and extended it on all sides till it
was tight as the top of a drum; and the four pa-
rallel sticks, rising about five inches higher than the
handkerchief, served as ledges on each side. When
I had finished my work I desired the emperor to let
a troop of his best horse, twenty-four in number, come
and exercise upon this plain. His majesty approved
of the proposal, and I took them up, one by one, in
my hands, ready mounted and armed, with the
proper officers to exercise them. As soon as they
got into order, they divided into two parties, per-
formed mock skirmishes, discharged blunt arrows,
drew their swords, fled and pursued, attacked and
retired, and, in short, discovered the best military
discipline I ever beheld. The parallel sticks secured
them and their horses from falling over the stage;
and the emperor was so much delighted, that he
ordered this entertainment to be repeated several
days, and once was pleased to be lifted up and give
the word of command; and with great difficulty per-
suaded even the empress herself to let me hold her
in her close chair within two yards of the stage,
when she was able to take a full view of the whole
performance. It was my good fortune that no ill
accident happened in these entertainments; only
once a fiery horse, that belonged to one of the cap-
tains, pawing with his hoof, struck a hole in my
handkerchief, and, his foot slipping, he overthrew his
rider and himself; but I immediately relieved them
both, and, covering the hole with one hand, I set down
the troops with the other, in the same manner as I
took them up. The horse that fell was strained in the
left shoulder, but the rider got no hurt; and I re-
paired my handkerchief as well as I could: however,
would not trust to the strength of it any more in
such dangerous enterprises.
There is likewise another diversion, which is only
shown before the emperor and emperess and first
minister, upon particular occasions. The emperor
lays on the table three fine silken threads of six
inches long; one is blue, the other red, and the third
green. These threads are proposed as prizes for
those persons whom the emperor has a mind to dis-
tinguish by a peculiar mark of his favour.
ceremony is performed in his majesty's great chamber
of state, where the candidates are to undergo a trial
of dexterity, very different from the former, and
such as I have not observed the least resemblance
of in any other country of the new or old world.
The emperor holds a stick in his hands, both ends
parallel to the horizon, while the candidates, ad-
vancing one by one, sometimes leap over the stick
sometimes creep under it, backward and forward,
several times, according as the stick is advanced or
depressed. Sometimes the emperor holds one endjesty that some of his subjects, riding near the place
of the stick, and his first minister the other; some-
times the minister has it entirely to himself. Who-
ever performs his part with most agility, and holds
out the longest in leaping and creeping, is rewarded
with the blue-coloured silk; the red is given to the
next, and the green to the third, which they all wear
girt twice round about the middle; and you see few
great persons about this court who are not adorned
with one of these girdles.
* Doubtless sir Robert Walpole, theu Prime Minister.
This alludes to his dismissal in 1717, through the intrigues
of Sunderland and Stanhope. The cushion was no doubt his
great interest with the duchess of Kendal, the favourite of
George I.
Sir Robert Walpole was distinguished by the orders of the
Garter and the Batli, here so strongiv idiculed
About two or three days before I was set at liberty,
as I was entertaining the court with this kind of
feats, there arrived an express to inform his ma-
where I was first taken up, had seen a great black
substance lying on the ground, very oddly shaped,
extending its edges round, as wide as his majesty's
bedchamber, and rising up in the middle as high as
a man; that it was no living creature, as they at first
apprehended, for it lay on the grass without motion,
and some of them had walked round it several times;
that, by mounting upon each other's shoulders, they
had got to the top, which was flat and even, and,
stamping upon it, they found that it was hollow
within; that they humbly conceived it might be
something belonging to the man-mountain, and, if
his majesty pleased, they would undertake to bring
it with only five horses. I presently knew what
they meant, and was glad at heart to receive this in-
{
11
10
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
telligence. It seems, upon my first reaching the
shore after our shipwreck, I was in such confusion,
that, before I came to the place where I went to
sleep, my
hat, which I had fastened with a string to
my head while I was rowing, and had stuck on all the
time I was swimming, fell off after I came to land;
the string, as I conjecture, breaking by some accident,
which I never observed, but thought my hat had been
lost at sea.
I entreated his imperial majesty to give
orders it might be brought to me as soon as possi-
ble, describing to him the use and the nature of it;
and the next day the waggoners arrived with it, but
not in a very good condition; they had bored two
holes in the brim, within an inch and half of the
edge, and fastened two hooks in the holes; these
hooks were tied by a long cord to the harness, and
thus my hat was dragged along for above half an
English mile; but, the ground in that country being
extremely smooth and level, it received less damage
than I expected.
Two days after this adventure, the emperor, hav-
ing ordered that part of his army which quarters in
and about his metropolis to be in readiness, took a
fancy of diverting himself in a very singular manner.
He desired I would stand like a Colossus, with my
legs as far asunder as I conveniently could. He
then commanded his general (who was an old ex-
perienced leader, and a great patron of mine) to
draw up the troops in close order, and march them
under me; the foot by twenty-four abreast, and
the horse by sixteen, with drums beating, colours
flying, and pikes advanced. This body consisted of
three thousand foot and a thousand horse. His ma-
jesty gave orders, upon pain of death, that every sol-
dier in his march should observe the strictest decency
with regard to my person; which, however, could not
prevent some of the younger officers from turning up
their eyes as they passed under me: and, to confess
the truth, my breeches were at that time in so ill a
condition, that they afforded some opportunities for
laughter and admiration.
I had sent so many memorials and petitions for
my liberty, that his majesty at length mentioned the
matter, first in the cabinet, and then in a full coun-
cil, where it was opposed by none except Skyresh
Bolgolam, who was pleased, without any provo-
cation, to be my mortal enemy. But it was carried
against him by the whole board, and confirmed by
the emperor. That minister was galbet, or admiral
of the realm, very much in his master's confidence,
and a person well versed in affairs, but of a morose
and sour complexion. However, he was at length
persuaded to comply, but prevailed that the articles.
and conditions upon which I should be set free, and
to which I must swear, should be drawn up by him-
self. These articles were brought to me by Skyresh
Bolgolam in person, attended by two under-secre-
taries and several persons of distinction. After they
were read, I was demanded to swear to the perform-
ance of them; first in the manner of my own
country, and afterwards in the method prescribed by
their laws, which was, to hold my right foot in my
left hand, and to place the middle finger of my right
hand on the crown of my head, and my thumb on
the tip of my right ear. But, because the reader
may be curious to have some idea of the style and
manner of expression peculiar to that people, as well
as to know the articles upon which I recovered my
liberty, I have made a translation of the whole in-
strument, word for word, as near as I was able,
which I here offer to the public
"Golbasto Momarem Evlame Gurdilo Shefin Mully
Ully Gue, most mighty emperor of Lilliput, delight
and terror of the universe, whose dominions extend
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five thousand blustrugs (about twelve miles in cir-
cumference) to the extremities of the globe; monarch
of all monarchs, taller than the sons of men; whose
feet press down to the centre, and whose head strikes
against the sun; at whose nod the princes of the
earth shake their knees; pleasant as the spring, com-
fortable as the summer, fruitful as autumn, dreadful
as winter. His most sublime majesty proposes to
the man-mountain, lately arrived at our celestial do-
minions, the following articles, which, by a solemn
oath, he shall be obliged to perform :-
“1st, The man-mountain shall not depart from
our dominions without our licence under our great
seal.
"2nd, He shall not presume to come into our
metropolis without our express order; at which time
the inhabitants shall have two hours' warning to
keep within doors.
3rd, The said man-mountain shall confine his
walks to our principal high-roads, and not offer
to walk or lie down in a meadow or field of corn.
"4th, As he walks the said roads, he shall take
the utmost care not to trample upon the bodies of
any of our loving subjects, their horses, or carriages,
nor take any of our subjects into his hands without
their own consent.
5th, If an express requires an extraordinary
despatch, the man-mountain shall be obliged to carry,
in his pocket, the messenger and horse a six days'
journey, once in every moon, and return the said
messenger back (if so required) safe to our impe-
rial presence.
a
6th, He shall be our ally against our enemics
in the island of Blefuscu, and do his utmost to
destroy their fleet, which is now preparing to invade
us.
"7th, That the said man-mountain shall, at his
leisure, be aiding and assisting to our work-men,
in helping to raise certain great stones towards
covering the wall of the principal park, and other
our royal buildings.
"8th, That the said man-mountain shall, in two
moons' time, deliver in an exact survey of the cir-
cumference of our dominions, by a computation of
his own paces round the coast.
66
Lastly, That upon his solemn oath to observe all
the above articles, the said man-mountain shall have
a daily allowance of meat and drink sufficient for
the support of 1724 of our subjects, with free access
to our royal person, and other marks of our favour.
Given at our palace at Belfaborac, the twelfth day of
the ninety-first moon of our reign."
I swore and subscribed to these articles with great
cheerfulness and content, although some of them
were not so honourable as I could have wished,
which proceeded wholly from the malice of Skyresh
Bolgolam, the high-admiral; whereupon my chains.
were immediately unlocked, and I was at full liberty.
The emperor himself, in person, did me the honour
to be by at the whole ceremony. I made my ac-
knowledgments by prostrating myself at his majesty's
feet but he commanded me to rise; and after many
gracious expressions, which, to avoid the censure of
vanity, I shall not repeat, he added, "that he hoped
I should prove a useful servant, and well deserve all
the favours he had already conferred upon me, or
might do for the future."
The reader may please to observe that, in the last
article for the recovery of my liberty, the emperor
stipulates to allow me a quantity of meat and drink
sufficient for the support of 1724 Lilliputians. Some
time after, asking a friend at court how they came to
In his description of Lilliput, he had England in view;
in that of Bleluscu, France.
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
il
fix on that determined number, he told me that his
majesty's mathematicians, having taken the height
of
my body by the help of a quadrant, and finding
it to exceed theirs in the proportion of twelve to one,
they concluded, from the similarity of their bodies,
that mine must contain at least 1724 of theirs, and
consequently would require as much food as was ne-
cessary to support that number of Lilliputians. By
which the reader may conceive an idea of the in-
genuity of that people, as well as the prudent and
exact economy of so great a prince.
CHAPTER IV.
Mildendo, the metropolis of Lilliput, described, together with
the emperor's palace. A conversation between the author
and a principal secretary, concerning the affairs of that em-
pire. The author's offer to serve the emperor in his wars.
THE first request I made, after I had obtained my
liberty, was, that I might have licence to see Mil-
dendo, the metropolis; which the emperor easily
easily
granted me, but with a special charge to do no hurt
either to the inhabitants or their houses. The people
had notice, by proclamation, of my design to visit
the town. The wall which encompassed it is two
feet and a half high, and at least eleven inches broad,
so that a coach and horses may be driven very safely
round it; and it is flanked with strong towers, at
ten feet distance. I stepped over the great western
gate, and passed very gently and sideling through
the two principal streets, only in my short waistcoat,
for fear of dainaging the roofs and eaves of the houses
with the skirts of my coat. I walked with the ut-
most circumspection, to avoid treading on any strag-
glers who might remain in the streets, although the
orders were very strict that all people should keep in
their houses, at their own peril. The garret windows
and tops of houses were so crowded with spectators,
that I thought in all my travels I had not seen a
more populous place. The city is an exact square,
each side of the wall being five hundred feet long.
The two great streets, which run across, and divide
it into four quarters, are five feet wide. The lanes
and alleys, which I could not enter, but only viewed
them as I passed, are from twelve to eighteen inches.
The town is capable of holding five hundred thou-
sand souls: the houses are from three to five stories:
the shops and markets well provided.
The emperor's palace is in the centre of the city,
where the two great streets meet. It is enclosed by
a wall of two feet high, and twenty feet distance from
the buildings. I had his majesty's permission to
step over this wall; and the space being so wide be-
tween that and the palace, I could easily view it on
every side.
The outward court is a square of forty
feet, and includes two other courts: in the inmost
are the royal apartments, which I was very desirous
to see, but found it extremely difficult; for the great
gates, from one square into another, were but eighteen
inches high, and seven inches wide. Now the build-
ings of the outer court were at least five feet high,
and it was impossible for me to stride over them
without infinite damage to the pile, though the walls
were strongly built of hewn stone, and four inches
thick. At the same time the emperor had a great
desire that I should see the magnificence of his pa-
lace; but this I was not able to do till three days
after, which I spent in cutting down with my knife
some of the largest trees in the royal park, about a
hundred yards distance from the city. Of these trees
I made two stools, each about three feet high, and
strong enough to bear my weight. The people having
received notice a second time, I went again through
the city to the palace with my two stools in my hands.
|
i
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When I came to the side of the outer court, I stood
upon one stool, and took the other in my hand; this
I lifted over the roof, and gently set it down on the
space between the first and second court, which was
eight feet wide. I then stepped over the building very
conveniently from one stool to the other, and drew
up the first after me with a hooked stick. By this
contrivance I got into the inmost court; and, lying
down upon my side, I applied my face to the win-
dows of the middle stories, which were left open on
purpose, and discovered the most splendid apart-
ments that can be imagined. There I saw the em-
press and the young princes, in their several lodgings,
with their chief attendants about them. Her impe-
rial majesty was pleased to smile very graciously
upon me, and gave me out of the window her hand
to kiss.
But I shall not anticipate the reader with further
descriptions of this kind, because I reserve them for
a greater work, which is now almost ready for the
press; containing a general description of this em-
pire, from its first erection, through a long series of
princes; with a particular account of their wars and
politics, laws, learning, and religion; their plants
and animals, their peculiar manners and customs,
with other matters very curious and useful; my chief
design at present being only to relate such events
|
and transactions as happened to the public or to my-
self during a residence of about nine months in that
empire.
One morning, about a fortnight after I had ob-
tained my liberty. Reldresal. principal secretary (as
they style him) for private affairs, came to my house
attended only by one servant. He ordered his coach
to wait at a distance, and desired I would give him
an hour's audience; which I readily consented to,
on account of his quality and personal merits, as
well as of the many good offices he had done me
during my solicitations at court. I offered to lie
down, that he might the more conveniently reach
my ear; but he chose rather to let me hold him in
my hand during our conversation. He began with
compliments on my liberty; said, "he might pre-
tend to some merit in it; but, however, added,
"that if it had not been for the present situation of
things at court, perhaps I might not have obtained
it so soon. For," said he, "as flourishing a condi-
tion as we may appear to be in to foreigners, we la-
bour under two mighty evils; a violent faction at
home, and the danger of an invasion, by a most po-
tent enemy, from abroad. As to the first, you are
to understand that for above seventy moons past
there have been two straggling parties in this empire,
under the names of Tramecksan and Slamecksanª,
from the high and low heels of their shoes, by which
they distinguish themselves. It is alleged, indeed,
that the high heels are most agreeable to our ancient
constitution; but, however this be, his majesty has
determined to make use only of low heels in the ad-
ministration of the government, and all offices in the
gift of the crown, as you cannot but observe; and
particularly, that his majesty's imperial heels are
lower at least by a drurr than any of his court
(drurr is a measure about the fourteenth part of an
inch). The animosities between these two parties
run so high, that they will neither eat, nor driuk,
nor talk with each other. We compute the Tra-
mecksan, or high heels, to exceed us in number;
but the power is wholly on our side. We apprehend
his imperial highness, the heir to the crown, to have
some tendency towards the high heels; at least, we
can plainly discover that one of his heels is higher
a High-cnurch and low-church, or whig and tory.
12
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS
than the other, which gives him a hobble in his gait.
Now, in the midst of these intestine disquiets, we
are threatened with an invasion from the island of
Blefuscu, which is the other great empire of the uni-
verse, almost as large and powerful as this of his ma-
jesty. For, as to what we have heard you affirm,
that there are other kingdoms and states in the world,
juhabited by human creatures as large as yourself,
our philosophers are in much doubt, and would ra-
ther conjecture that you dropped from the moon, or
one of the stars: because it is certain that a hun-
dred mortals of your bulk would in a short time de-
stroy all the fruits and cattle of his majesty's domi-
nions besides, our histories of six thousand moons
make no mention of any other regions than the two
great empires of Lilliput and Blefuscu. Which two
mighty powers have, as I was going to tell you, been
engaged in a most obstinate war for six-and-thirty
moons past. It began upon the following occasion:
it is allowed on all hands that the primitive way of
breaking eggs, before we eat them, was upon the
larger end; but his present majesty's grandfather,
while he was a boy, going to eat an egg, and break-
ing it according to the ancient practice, happened to
cut one of his fingers. Whereupon the emperor his
father published an edict, commanding all his sub-
jects, upon great penalties, to break the smaller end
of their eggs. The people so highly resented this
law, that our histories tell us there have been six
rebellions raised on that account; wherein one em-
peror lost his life, and another his crown. These
civil commotions were constantly fomented by the
monarchs of Blefuscu; and when they were quelled,
the exiles always fled for refuge to that empire. It
is computed that eleven thousand persons have at
several times suffered death, rather than submit to
break their eggs at the smaller end. Many hundred
large volumes have been published upon this contro-
versy: but the books of the big-endians have been
long forbidden, and the whole party rendered inca-
pable by law of holding employments. During the
course of these troubles, the emperors of Blefuscu
did frequently expostulate by their ambassadors,
accusing us of making a schism in religion, by offend-
ing against a fundamental doctrine of our great pro-
phet Lustrog, in the fifty-fourth chapter of the Blun-
decral (which is their Alcoran). This, however, is
thought to be a mere strain upon the text; for the
to the emperor; and to let him know" that i
thought it would not become me, who was a foreigner,
to interfere with parties; but I was ready, with the
hazard of my life, to defend his person and state
against all invaders."
CHAPTER V.
The author, by an extraordinary stratagem, prevents an inva-
sion. A high title of honour is conferred upon him. Am-
bassadors arrive from the emperor of Blefuscu, and sue for
peace. The empress's apartinent on fire by accident; the
author instrumental in saving the rest of the palace.
THE empire of Blefuscu is an island situated to the
north-east of Lilliput, from which it is parted only
by a channel of eight hundred yards wide. I had
not yet seen it, and, upon this notice of an intended
invasion, I avoided appearing on that side of the
coast, for fear of being discovered by some of the
enemy's ships, who had received no intelligence of
me; all intercourse between the two empires having
been strictly forbidden during the war, upon pain of
death, and an embargo laid by our emperor upon
all vessels whatsoever. I communicated to his ma-
jesty a project I had formed of seizing the enemy's
whole fleet; which, as our scouts assured us, lay at
anchor in the harbour, ready to sail with the first
fair wind. I consulted the most experienced seamen
upon the depth of the channel, which they had often
plumbed; who told me that in the middle, at high
water, it was seventy glumgluffs deep, which is about
six feet of European measure; and the rest of it fifty
glumgluffs at most. I walked toward the north-east
coast, over against Blefuscu, where, lying down be-
hind a hillock, I took out my small perspective glass,
and viewed the enemy's fleet at anchor, consisting
of about fifty men-of-war, and a great number of
transports: I then came back to my house, and gave
orders (for which I had a warrant) for a great quan-
tity of the strongest cable and bars of iron. The
cable was about as thick as packthread, and the bars
of the length and size of a knitting-needle. I trebled
the cable to make it stronger, and for the same reason
I twisted three of the iron bars together, bending the
extremities into a hook. Having thus fixed fifty
hooks to as many cables, I went back to the north-
east coast, and, putting off my coat, shoes, and
stockings, walked into the sea, in my leathern
jerkin, about half an hour before high water. I
waded with what haste I could, and swam in the
middle about thirty yards, till I felt ground. I
arrived at the fleet in less than half an hour. The
enemy was so frighted when they saw me, that they
leaped out of their ships, and swam to shore, where
there could not be fewer than thirty thousand souls:
I then took my tackling, and, fastening a hook to
the hole at the prow of each, I tied all the cords to-
words are these: that all true believers break their
eggs at the convenient end. And which is the con-
venient end seems, in my humble opinion, to be
left to every man's conscience, or at least in the
nower of the chief magistrate to determine. Now,
the big-endian exiles have found so much credit in
the emperor of Blefuscu's court, and so much private
assistance and encouragement from their party here
at home, that a bloody war had been carried on be-gether at the end. While I was thus employed the
tween the two empires for six-and-thirty moons, with
various success: during which time we have lost.
forty capital ships and a much greater number of
smaller vessels, together with thirty thousand of our
best seamen and soldiers; and the damage received
by the enemy is reckoned to be somewhat greater
than ours. However, they have now equipped a
numerous fleet, and are just preparing to make a
descent upon us; and his imperial majesty, placing
great confidence in your valour and strength, has
commanded me to lay this account of his affairs be-
fore you."
1 desired the secretary to present my humble duty
George II., then heir apparent, who is thus represented
hobbling between the two political creeds.
A
h Papists and protestants are the big-endians and small-end-
13 us.
enemy discharged several thousand arrows, many of
which stuck in my hands and face; and, besides the
excessive sinart, gave me much disturbance in my
work. My greatest apprehension was for mine eyes,
which I should have infallibly lost if I had not sud-
denly thought of an expedient. I kept, among other
little necessaries, a pair of spectacles in a private
pocket, which, as I observed before, had escaped the
emperor's searchers. These I took out, and fastened
as strongly as I could upon my nose, and, thus armed,
went on boldly with my work, in spite of the enemy's
arrows; many of which struck against the glasses of
my spectacles, but without any other effect further
than a little to discompose them. I had now fastened
all the hooks, and, taking the knot in my hand, be-
gan to pull; but not a ship would stir, for they were
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
13
all too fast held by their anchors, so that the boldest
part of my enterprise remained. I therefore let go
the cord, and, leaving the hooks fixed to the ships,
I resolutely cut with my knife the cables that fastened
the anchors, receiving about two hundred shots in
my face and hands; then I took up the knotted end
of the cables, to which my hooks were tied, and with
great ease drew fifty of the enemy's largest men-of-
war after me.
The Blefuscudians, who had not the least imagin-
ation of what I intended, were at first confounded
with astonishment. They had seen me cut the cables,
and thought my design was only to let the ships run
adrift, or fall foul on each other; but when they
perceived the whole fleet moving in order, and saw
me pulling at the end, they set up such a scream of
grief and despair as it is almost impossible to de-
scribe or conceive. When I had got out of danger,
I stopped awhile to pick out the arrows that stuck
in my hands and face; and rubbed on some of the
same ointment that was given me at my first arrival,
as I formerly mentioned. I then took off my spec-
tacles, and, waiting about an hour, till the tide was
a little fallen, I waded through the middle with my
cargo, and arrived safe at the royal port of Lilliput.
The emperor and his whole court stood on the
shore, expecting the issue of this great adventure.
They saw the ships move forward in a large half-
moon, but could not disceru me, who was up to my
breast in water. When I advanced to the middle of
the channel they were yet more in pain, because I
was under water to my neck. The emperor con-
cluded me to be drowned, and that the enemy's fleet
was approaching in a hostile manner: but he was
soon eased of his fears; for, the channel growing
shallower at every step I made, I came in a short
time within hearing, and, holding up the end of the
cable, by which the fleet was fastened, I cried in a
loud voice, "Long live the most puissant king of
Lilliput!" This great prince received me at my
landing with all possible encomiums, and created me
a nardac upon the spot, which is the highes title of
honour among them.
His majesty desired I would take some other op-
portunity of bringing all the rest of his enemy's ships
into his ports. And so unmeasurable is the ambi-
tion of princes, that he seemed to think of nothing
less than reducing the whole empire of Blefuscu
into a province, and governing it by a viceroy; of
destroying the big-endian exiles, and compelling that
people to break the smaller end of their eggs, by
which he would remain the sole monarch of the
whole world. But I endeavoured to divert him
from this design, by many arguments drawn from
the topics of policy as well as justice; and I plainly
protested "that I would never be an instrument of
bringing a free and brave people into slavery." And,
when the matter was debated in council, the wisest
part of the ministry were of my opinion.
This open, bold declaration of mine was so oppo-
site to the schemes and politics of his imperial ma-
jesty, that he could never forgive me. He mentioned
it in a very artful manner at council, where I was
told that some of the wisest appeared, at least by
their silence, to be of my opinion; but others, who
were my secret enemies, could not forbear some ex-
pressions, which, by a side-wind, reflected on me.
And from this time began an intrigue between his
majesty and a junto of ministers, maliciously bent
against me, which broke out in less than two months,
and had like to have ended in my utter destruction.
Of so little weight are the greatest services to
princes, when put into the balance with a refusal to
gratify their passions.
About three weeks after this exploit, there arrived
a solemn embassy from Blefuscu, with humble offers
of a peace; which was soon concluded, upon con-
ditions very advantageous to our emperor, where-
with I shall not trouble the reader. There were six
ambassadors, with a train of about five hundred per-
sons; and their entry was very magnificent, suit-
able to the grandeur of their master and the import-
ance of their business. When their treaty was finish-
ed, wherein I did them several good offices by the
credit I now had, or at least appeared to have, at
court. their excellencies, who were privately told
how much I had been their friend, made me a visit
in form. They began with many compliments upon
my valour and generosity, invited me to that king-
dom in the emperor their master's name, and desired
me to show them some proofs of my prodigious
strength, of which they had heard so many wonders;
wherein I readily obliged them, but shall not trouble
the reader with the particulars.
When I had for some time entertained their ex-
cellencies, to their infinite satisfaction and surprise,
I desired they would do me the honour to present
my most humble respects to the emperor their master,
the renown of whose virtues had so justly filled the
whole world with admiration, and whose royal per-
son I resolved to attend before I returned to my
own country. Accordingly, the next time I had the
honour to see our emperor, I desired his general
licence to wait on the Blefuscudian monarch, which
he was pleased to grant me, as I could plainly per-
ceive, in a very cold manner; but could not guess
the reason till I had a whisper from a certain per-
"that Flimnap and Bolgolam had represented
my intercourse with those ambassadors as a mark of
disaffection;" from which I am sure my heart was
wholly free. And this was the first time I began to
conceive some imperfect idea of courts and mi-
nisters.
son,
It is to be observed that these ambassadors spoke
to me by an interpreter, the languages of both em-
pires differing as much from each other as any two
in Europe, and each nation priding itself upon the
antiquity, beauty, and energy of their own tongues,
with an avowed contempt for that of their neigh-
bour: yet our emperor, standing upon the advan-
tage he had got by the seizure of their fleet, obliged
them to deliver their credentials and nake their
speech in the Lilliputian tongue. And it must be
confessed, that, from the great intercourse of trade
and commerce between both realms, from the con-
tinual reception of exiles, which is mutual among
them, and from the custom, in each empire, to send
their young nobility and richer gentry to the other,
in order to polish themselves by seeing the world
and understanding men and manners, there are few
persons of distinction, or merchants, or seamen, who
dwell in the maritime parts, but what can hold con-
versation in both tongues; as I found some weeks
after, when I went to pay my respects to the em-
peror of Blefuscu, which, in the midst of great mis-
fortunes, through the malice of my enemies, proved
a very happy adventure to me, as I shall relate in its
proper place.
The reader may remember that, when I signed
those articles upon which I recovered my liberty,
there were some which I disliked, upon account of
their being too servile; neither could anything but
an extreme necessity have forced me to submit.
But being now a nardac of the highest rank in that
empire, such offices were looked upon as below my
dignity, and the emperor (to do him justice) never
once mentioned them to me. However, it was not
long before I had an opportunity of doing his ma-
14
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
I shall say but little at present of their learning,
which for many ages has flourished in all its branches.
among them; but their manner of writing is very
peculiar, being neither from the left to the right, like
the Europeans; nor from the right to the left, like
the Arabians; nor from up to down, like the Chi-
nese; but aslant, from one corner of the paper to
the other, like ladies in England.
jesty, at least as I chen thought, a most signal ser- the several gradations downwards, till you come to
vice. I was alarmed at midnight with the cries of the smallest, which, to my sight, were almost invi-
many hundred people at my door; by which being sible; but nature has adapted the eyes of the Lill-
suddenly awaked, I was in some kind of terror. I putians to all objects proper for their view: they
heard the word burglum repeated incessantly: seve- see with great exactness, but at no great distance.
ral of the emperor's court making their way through And, to show the sharpness of their sight towards ob-
the crowd entreated me to come immediately to the jects that are near, I have been much pleased with
palace where her imperial majesty's apartment was observing a cook pulling a lark, which was not so
on fire, by the carelessness of a maid of honour, who large as a common fly; and a young girl threading
fell asleep while she was reading a romance.
I got
an invisible needle with invisible silk. Their tallest
up in an instant; and orders being given to clear trees are about seven feet high; I mean some of
the way before me, and it being likewise a moon- those in the royal park, the tops whereof I could but
shine night, I made a shift to get to the palace with- just reach with my fist clinched.
The other vege-
out trampling on any of the people. I found they tables are in the same proportion: but this I leave
had already applied ladders to the walls of the apart- to the reader's imagination.
ment, and were well provided with buckets, but the
water was at some distance. These buckets were
about the size of large thimbles, and the poor people
supplied me with them as fast as they could; but the
flame was so violent that they did little good. I
might easily have stifled it with my coat, which
I unfortunately left behind me for haste, and came
away only in my leathern jerkin. The case seemed
wholly desperate and deplorable: and this magnifi-
cent palace would have infallibly been burnt down
to the ground if, by a presence of mind unusual to
me, I had not suddenly thought of an expedient. I
had the evening before drunk plentifully of a most
delicious wine called glimigrim, (the Blefuscudians
call it flunec, but ours is esteemed the better sort,)
which is very diuretic. By the luckiest chance in
the world I had not discharged myself of any part
of it. The heat I had contracted by coming very
near the flames, and by my labouring to quench
them, made the wine begin to operate by urine;
which I voided in such a quantity, and applied so
well to the proper places, that in three minutes the
fire was wholly extinguished, and the rest of that
noble pile, which had cost so many ages in erecting,
preserved from destruction.
They bury their dead with their heads directly
downward, because they hold an opinion that in
eleven thousand moons they are all to rise again; in
which period the earth (which they conceive to be
flat) will turn upside down, and by this means they
shall at their resurrection be found ready standing
on their feet. The learned among them confess the
absurdity of this doctrine, but the practice still con-
tinues, in compliance to the vulgar.
The
There are some laws and customs in this empire
very peculiar, and, if they were not so directly con-
trary to those of my own dear country, I should be
tempted to say a little in their justification. It is
only to be wished they were as well executed.
first I shall mention relates to informers. All crimes
against the state are punished here with the utmost
severity; but, if the person accused makes his inno-
cence plainly to appear upon his trial, the accuser ig
immediately put to an ignominious death; and out
of his goods or lands the innocent person is quadru-
ply recompensed for the loss of his time, for the dan-
ger he underwent, for the hardship of his imprison-
ing his defence. Or, if that fund be deficient, it is
largely supplied by the crown. The emperor also
confers on him some public mark of his favour, and
proclamation is made of his innocence through the
whole city.
It was now daylight, and I returned to my house
without waiting to congratulate with the emperor;
because, although I had done a very eminent piece
of service, yet I could not tell how his majesty might
resent the manner by which I had performed it:
for, by the fundamental laws of the realm, it is capi-ment, and for all the charges he has been at in mak-
tal in any person, of what quality soever, to make
water within the precincts of the palace. But I
was a little comforted by a message from his ma-
jesty, "that he would give orders to the grand justi-
ciary for passing my pardon in form:" which, how-
ever, I could not obtain. And I was privately
assured "that the empress, conceiving the greatest
abhorrence of what I had done, removed to the most
distant side of the court, firmly resolved that those
buildings should never be repaired for her use; and,
in the presence of her chief confidants, could not
forbear vowing revenge."
CHAPTER VI.
Of the inhabitants of Lilliput; their learning, laws, and
customs: the manner of educating their children. The
Author's way of living in that country. Ilis vindication of a
great lady.
ALTHOUGH I intend to leave the description of this
empire to a particular treatise, yet, in the mean time,
I am content to gratify the curious reader with some
general ideas. As the common size of the natives
is somewhat under six inches high, so there is an
exact proportion in all other animals, as well
as plants and trees: for instance, the tallest horses.
and oxen
are between four and five inches in
height, the sheep an inch and half, more or less;
their geese about the bigness of a sparrow, and so
They look upon fraud as a greater crime than
theft, and therefore seldom fail to punish it with
death; for they allege that care and vigilance, with
a very common understanding, may preserve a man's
goods from thieves, but honesty has no fence against
superior cunning; and, since it is necessary that
there should be a perpetual intercourse of buying
and selling, and dealing upon credit, where fraud is
permitted and connived at, or has no law to punish
it, the honest dealer is always undone, and the
knave gets the advantage. I remember, when I
was once interceding with the king for a criminal
who had wronged his master of a great sum of
money, which he had received by order, and ran
away with; and happening to tell his majesty, by
way of extenuation, that it was only a breach of
trust, the emperor thought it monstrcus in me to
offer as a defence the greatest aggravation of the
crime; and truly I had little to say in return, fur-
ther than the common answer, that different nations
had different customs; for, I confess, I was heartily
ashamed.
Although we usually call reward and punishment
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT
15
the two hinges upon which all government turns,
yet I could never observe this maxim to be put in
practice by any nation, except that of Lilliput. Who-
ever can there bring sufficient proof that he has
strictly observed the laws of his country for seventy-
three moons, has a claim to certain privileges, ac-
cording to his quality or condition of life, with a
proportionable sum of money out of a fund appro-
priated for that use: he likewise acquires the title
of snilpall, or legal, which is added to his name, but
does not descend to his posterity. And these people
thought it a prodigious defect of policy among us,
when I told them that our laws were enforced only
by penalties, without any mention of reward. It is
upon this account that the image of Justice, in their
courts of judicature, is formed with six eyes, two
before, as many behind, and on each side one, to
signify circumspection; with a bag of gold open in
her right hand, and a sword sheathed in her left, to
show she is more disposed to reward than to punish.
In choosing persons for all employments, they have
more regard to good morals than to great abilities;
for, since government is necessary to mankind, they
believe that the common size of human understand-
ing is fitted to some station or other; and that Pro-
vidence never intended to make the management of
public affairs a mystery to be comprehended only by
a few persons of sublime genius, of which there sel
dom are three born in an age: but they suppose
truth, justice, temperance, and the like, to be in
every man's power; the practice of which virtues,
assisted by experience and a good intention, would
qualify any man for the service of his country, except
where a course of study is required. But they thought
the want of moral virtues was so far from being sup-
plied by superior endowments of the mind, that em-
ployments could never be put into such dangerous
hauds as those of persons so qualified; and, at least,
that the mistakes committed by ignorance, in a vir-
tuous disposition, would never be of such fatal con-
sequence to the public weal as the practices of a
man whose inclinations led him to be corrupt, and
who had great abilities to manage, to multiply, and
defend his corruptions.
that men and women are joined together, like other
animals, by the motives of concupiscence; and that
their tenderness towards their young proceeds from
the like natural principle: for which reason they will
never allow that a child is under any obligation tɔ
his father for begetting him, or to his mother for
bringing him into the world; which, considering
the miseries of human life, was neither a benefit in
itself, nor intended so by his parents, whose thoughts
in their love encounters were otherwise employed.
Upon these and the like reasonings, their opinion
is, that parents are the last of all others to be trusted'
with the education of their own children: and
therefore they have in every town public nurseries,
where all parents, except cottagers and labourers,
are obliged to send their infants of both sexes to be
reared and educated, when they come to the age of
twenty moons, at which time they are supposed to
have some rudiments of docility. These schools
are of several kinds, suited to different qualities
and to both sexes. They have certain professors,
well skilled in preparing children for such a condi-
tion of life as befits the rank of their parents, and
their own capacities, as well as inclinations. I shall
first say something of the male nurseries, and then
of the female.
The nurseries for males of noble or eminent birth
are provided with grave and learned professors, and
their several deputies. The clothes and food of the
children are plain and simple. They are bred up in
the principles of honour, justice, courage, modesty,
clemency, religion, and love of their country; they
are always employed in some business, except in times
of eating and sleeping, which are very short, and
two hours for diversions consisting of bodily exer-
cises. They are dressed by men till four years of
age, and then are obliged to dress themselves, al-
though their quality be ever so great; and the wo-
men attendants, who are aged proportionably to
ours at fifty, perform only the most menial offices.
They are never suffered to converse with servants,
but go together in smaller or greater numbers to take
their diversions, and always in the presence of a
professor or one of his deputies: whereby they avoid
those early bad impressions of folly and vice to which
our children are subject. Their parents are suffered
to see them only twice a-year; the visit is to last but
an hour; they are allowed to kiss the child at meet-
In like manner, the disbelief of a Divine Provi-
dence renders a man incapable of holding any public
station; for, since kings avow themselves to be the
deputies of Providence, the Lilliputians think no-
thing can be more absurd than for a prince to employing and parting; but a professor, who always stands
such men as disown the authority under which he
acts.
In relating these and the following laws, I would
only be understood to mean the original institutions,
and not the most scandalous corruptions into which
these people are fallen by the degenerate nature of
man. For, as to that infamous practice of acquiring
great employments by dancing on the ropes, or
badges of favour and distinction by leaping over
sticks and creeping under them, the reader is to ob-
serve that they were first introduced by the grand-
father of the emperor now reigning, and grew to the
present height by the gradual increase of party and
faction.
Ingratitude is among them a capital crime, as we
read it to have been in some other countries; for
they reason thus, that whoever makes ill returns to
his benefactor must needs be a common enemy to
the rest of mankind, from whom he has received no
obligation, and therefore such a man is not fit to live.
Their notions relating to the duties of parents and
children differ extremely from ours. For, since the
conjunction of male and female is founded upon the
great law of nature, in order to propagate and conti-
nue the species, the Lilliputians will needs have it
by on those occasions, will not suffer them to whis-
per, or use any fondling expressions, or bring any
presents of toys, sweetmeats, and the like.
The pension from each family for the education
and entertainment of a child, upon failure of due
payment, is levied by the emperor's officers.
The nurseries for children of ordinary gentlemen,
merchants, traders, and handicrafts, are managed
proportionably after the same manner; only those
designed for trades are put out apprentices at eleven
years old; whereas those of persons of quality con-
tinue in their exercises till fifteen, which answers to
twenty-one with us; but the confinement is gradu-
ally lessened for the last three years.
years
In the female nurseries, the young girls of quality
are educated much like the males, only they are
dressed by orderly servants of their own sex, but
always in the presence of a professor or deputy, till
they come to dress themselves, which is at five
old. And if it be found that these nurses ever pre-
sume to entertain the girls with frightful or foolish
stories, or the common follies practised by chamber-
maids among us, they are publicly whipped thrice
about the city, imprisoned for a year, and banished
for life to the most desolate part of the country,
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
16
Thus, the young ladies there are as much ashamed
of being cowards and fools as the men, and despise
all personal ornaments beyond decency and cleanli-
ness neither did I perceive any difference in their
education made by their difference of sex, only that
the exercises of the females were not altogether so ro-
bust, and that some rules were given them relating to
domestic life, and a smaller compass of learning was
enjoined them: for their maxim is, that among peo-
ple of quality a wife should be always a reasonable
and agreeable companion, because she cannot always
be young.
When the girls are twelve years old,
which among them is the marriageable age, their
parents or guardians take them home, with great
expressions of gratitude to the professors, and sel-
dom without tears of the young lady and her com-
panions.
In the nurseries of females of the meaner sort, the
children are instructed in all kinds of works proper
for their sex and their several degrees: those in-
tended for apprentices are dismissed at seven years
old, the rest are kept till eleven.
The meaner families who have children at these
nurseries are obliged, beside their annual pension,
which is as low as possible, to return to the steward
of the nursery a small monthly share of their get-
tings, to be a portion for the child; and therefore all
parents are limited in their expenses by the law.
For the Lilliputians think nothing can be more un-
just than for people, in subservience to their own
appetites, to bring children into the world, and leave
the burden of supporting them on the public. As
to persons of quality, they give security to appro-
priate a certain sum for each child, suitable to their
condition; and these funds are always managed with
good husbandry and the most exact justice.
The cottagers and labourers keep their children
at home, their business being only to till and culti-
vate the earth, and therefore their education is of
little consequence to the public; but the old and
diseased among them are supported by hospitals, for
begging is a trade unknown in this empire.
And here it may perhaps divert the curious rea-
der to give some account of my domestics, and my
manner of living in this country, during a residence
of nine months and thirteen days. Having a head
mechanically turned, and being likewise forced by
necessity, I had made for myself a table and chair
convenient enough, out of the largest trees in the
royal park. Two hundred sempstresses were em-
ployed to make me shirts and linen for my bed and
table, all of the strongest and coarsest kind they
could get; which however they were forced to quilt
together in several folds, for the thickest was some
degrees finer than lawn. Their linen is usual three
inches wide, and three feet make a piece. The
sempstresses took my measure
measure as I
as I lay on the
ground, one standing at my neck, and another at
my mid-leg, with a strong cord extended, that each
held by the end, while a third measured the length
of the cord with a rule of an inch long. Then they
measured my right thumb, and desired no more;
for, by a mathematical computation that twice round
the thumb is once round the wrist, and so on to the
neck and the waist; and by the help of my old shirt,
which I displayed on the ground before them for a
pattern, they fitted me exactly. Three hundred tai-
lors were employed in the same manner to make me
clothes, but they had another contrivance for taking
my measure. I kneeled down, and they raised a
ladder from the ground to my neck; upon this lad-
der one of them mounted, and let fall a plumb-line
from my collar to the floor, which just answered the
length of my coat, but my waist and arms I mea-
|
sured myself. When my clothes were finished,
which was done in my house, (for the largest of
theirs would not have been able to hold them,) they
looked like the patch-work made by the ladies in
England, only that mine were all of a colour.
I had three hundred cooks to dress my victuals,
in little convenient huts built about my house, where
they and their families lived, and prepared me two
dishes apiece. I took up twenty waiters in my
hand, and placed them on the table: a hundred
more attended below on the ground, some with
dishes of meat, and some with barrels of wine and
other liquors slung on their shoulders; all which
the waiters above drew up as I wanted, in a very
ingenious manner, by certain cords, as we draw the
bucket up a well in Europe. A dish of their meat
was a good mouthful, and a barrel of their liquor a
reasonable draught. Their mutton yields to ours,
but their beef is excellent. I have had a sirloin so
large that I have been forced to make three bites of
it, but this is rare. My servants were astonished to
see me eat it, bones and all, as in our country we
do the leg of a lark. Their geese and turkeys I
usually eat at a mouthful, and I confess they far ex-
ceed ours. Of their smaller fowl I could take up
twenty or thirty at the end of my knife.
One day his imperial majesty, being informed of
my way of living, desired "that himself and his
royal consort, with the young princes of the blood
of both sexes, might have the happiness," as he was
pleased to call it,
pleased to call it, "of dining with me." They came
accordingly, and I placed them in chairs of state
upon my table, just over against me, with their
guards about them. Flimnap, [sir Rt. Walpole,]
the lord high treasurer, attended there likewise with
his white staff; and I observed he often looked on
me with a sour countenance, which I would not
seem to regard, but eat more than usual, in honour
to my dear country, as well as to fill the court with
admiration. I have some private reasons to believe
that this visit from his majesty gave Flimnap an op-
portunity of doing me ill offices to his master. That
minister had always been my secret enemy, though
he outwardly caressed me more than was usual to
the moroseness of his nature. He represented to the
emperor "the low condition of his treasury; that he
was forced to take up money at a great discount;
that exchequer bills would not circulate under nine
per cent. below par; that I had cost his majesty above
a million and a half of sprugs (their greatest gold
coin, about the bigness of a spangle); and, upon the
whole, that it would be advisable in the emperor to
take the first fair occasion of dismissing me.'
I am here obliged to vindicate the reputation of
an excellent lady, who was an innocent sufferer upon
my account. The treasurer took a fancy to be jealous
of his wife, from the malice of some evil tongues,
who informed him that her grace had taken a violent
affection for my person; and the court scandal ran
for some time that she once came privately to my
lodging. This I solemnly declare to be a most in-
famous falsehood, without any grounds, further than
that her grace was pleased to treat me with all in-
nocent marks of freedom and friendship. I own she
often came to my house, but always publicly, nor
ever without three more in the coach, who were
usually her sister and young daughter, and some par-
ticular acquaintance; but this was common to many
other ladies of the court. And I still appeal to my
servants round, whether they at any tinie saw a coach
at my door without knowing what persons were in
On those occasions, when a servant had given
me notice, my custom was to go immediately to the
door, and, after paying my respects, to take up the
it.
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
17
coach and two horses very carefully in my hands,
(for, if there were six horses, the postillion always
unharnessed four,) and placed them on a table,
where I had fixed a moveable rim quite round, of
And I have
five inches high, to preveut accidents.
often had four coaches and horses at once on ny
table, full of company, while I sat in my chair, leaning
my face towards them; and when I was engaged
with one set, the coachman would gently drive the
others round my table. I have passed many an af-
ternoon very agreeably in these conversations.
But
(galbet, or high-admiral) has been your mortal enemy
almost ever since your arrival. His original reasons I
know not; but his hatred is increased since your
great success against Blefuscu, by which his glory as
admiral is much obscured. This lord, in conjunction
with Flimnap the high-treasurer, whose enmity
against you is notorious on account of his lady,
Limtoc the general, Lalcon the chamberlain, and
Blamuff the grand justiciary, have prepared articles
of impeachment against you, for treason and other
capital crimes."
This preface made me so impatient, being_con-
scious of my own merits and innocence, that I was
going to interrupt him, when he entreated me to be
silent, and thus proceeded :-
my
"Articles of impeachment against QUINBUS FLESTRIN,
the Man-Mountain.
I defy the treasurer, or his two informers, (I will
name them, and let them make the best of it,) Clus-
tril and Drunlo, to prove that any person ever came
to me incognito, except the secretary Reldresal, who
"Out of gratitude for the favours you have done
was sent by express command of his imperial majesty,
as I have before related. I should not have dwelt me, I procured information of the whole proceed-
so long upon this particular, if it had not been a pointings, and a copy of the articles, wherein I venture
wherein the reputation of a great lady is so nearly my head for your service.
concerned, to say nothing of my own; though I then
had the honour to be a nardac, which the treasurer
himself is not; for all the world knows that he is
only a glumglum, a title inferior by one degree, as
that of a marquis is to a duke in England; yet I
These
allow he preceded me in right of his post.
false informations, which I afterwards came to the
knowledge of by an accident not proper to mention,
made the treasurer show his lady for some time an
ill countenance, and me a worse; and although he
was at last undeceived and reconciled to her, yet
lost all credit with him, and found my interest de-
cline very
fast with the emperor himself, who was
indeed too much governed by that favourite.
CHAPTER VII.
The author, being informed of a design to accuse him of high
treason, makes his escape to Blefuscu. His reception there.
BEFORE I proceed to give an account of my leaving
this kingdom, it may be proper to inform the reader
of a private intrigue which had been for two months
forming against me.
I had been hitherto, all my life, a stranger to
courts, for which I was unqualified by the meanness
I had indeed heard and read
of my condition.
enough of the dispositions of great princes and mi-
nisters, but never expected to have found such
terrible effects of them, in so remote a country,
governed, as I thought, by very different maxims
from those in Europe.
When I was just preparing to pay my attendance
on the emperor of Blefuscu, a considerable person at
court (to whom I had been very serviceable, at a
time when he lay under the highest displeasure of
his imperial majesty) came to my house very pri-
vately at night, in a close chair, and without sending
his name desired admittance. The chairmen were
dismissed; I put the chair, with his lordship in it,
into my coat-pocket: and, giving orders to a trusty
servant to say I was indisposed and gone to sleep,
I fastened the door of my house, placed the chair on
the table, according to my usual custom, and sat
down by it. After the common salutations were
over, observing his lordship's countenance full of
concern, and inquiring into the reason, he desired
"I would hear him with patience, in a matter that
highly concerned my honour and life." His speech
was to the following effect, for I took notes of it as
soon as he left me :-
"ARTICLE I.—Whereas, by a statute made in the
reign of his imperial majesty Calin Deffar Plune, it
is enacted, That whoever shall make water within
the precincts of the royal palace shall be liable to
the pains and penalties of high treason; notwith-
standing, the said Quinbus Flestrin, in open breach
of the said law, under colour of extinguishing the
fire kindled in the apartment of his majesty's most
dear imperial consort, did maliciously, traitorously,
and devilishly, by discharge of his urine, put out
the said fire kindled in the said apartment, lying
and being within the precincts of the said royal
palace, against the statute in that case provided,
&c., against the duty, &c.
to
"ARTICLE II.-That the said Quinbus Flestrin,
having brought the imperial fleet of Blefuscu into
the royal port, and being afterwards commanded by
his imperial majesty to seize all the other ships of
the said empire of Blefuscu, and reduce that empire
a province, to be governed by a viceroy from
hence, and to destroy and put to death, not only all
the Big-endian exiles, but likewise all the people of
that empire who would not immediately forsake the
Big-endian heresy; he, the said Flestrin, like a
false traitor against his most auspicious, serene, im-
perial majesty, did petition to be excused from the
said service, upon pretence of unwillingness to force
the consciences, or destroy the liberties and lives, of
an innocent people.
"ARTICLE III.-That whereas certain ambassa-
dors arrived from the court of Blefuscu to sue for
peace in his majesty's court, he, the said Flestrin,
did, like a false traitor, aid. abet, comfort, and
divert the said ambassadors, although he knew them
to be servants to a prince who was lately an open
enemy to his imperial majesty, and in an open war
against his said majesty,
"ARTICLE IV.-That the said Quinbus Flestrin,
contrary to the duty of a faithful subject, is now
preparing to make a voyage to the court and empire
of Blefuseu, for which he has received only verbal
licence from his imperial majesty; and, under colour
of the said licence, does falsely and traitorously in-
tend to take the said voyage, and thereby to aid,
comfort, and abet the emperor of Blefuscu, so lately
an enemy and in open war with his imperial ma-
jesty aforesaid,
There are some other articles; but these are
the most important, of which I have read you au
abstract.
"You are to know," said he, “that several com-
mittees of council have been lately called, in the
most private manner, on your account; and it is but
two days since his majesty came to a full resolution.
You are very seusible that Skyresh Bolgolam | it must be confessed that his majesty gave many
•
VOL. 1.
"In the several debates upon this impeachment,
C
18
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
marks of his great lenity; often urging the services
you had done him, and endeavouring to extenuate
your crimes. The treasurer and admiral insisted
that you should be put to the most painful and igno-
minous death, by setting fire to your house at night;
and the general was to attend with twenty thousand
men, armed with poisoned arrows, to shoot you on
the face and hands. Some of your servants were to
Some of your servants were to
have private orders to strew a poisonous juice on
your shirts and sheets, which would soon make you
tear your own flesh, and die in the utmost torture.
The general came into the same opinion, so that for
a long time there was a majority against you; but
his majesty, resolving if possible to spare your life,
at last brought off the chamberlain.
your
"Upon this incident, Reldresal, principal secretary,
for private affairs, who always approved himself
rue friend, was commanded by the emperor to
deliver his opinion, which he accordingly did; and
therein justified the good thoughts you have of him.
He allowed your crimes to be great, but that still
there was room for mercy, the most commendable
virtue in a prince, and for which his majesty was so
justly celebrated. He said, the friendship between
you and him was so well known to the world, that
perhaps the most honourable board might think him
partial; however, in obedience to the command he
had received, he would freely offer his sentiments.
That if his majesty, in consideration of your services,
and pursuant to his own merciful disposition, would
please to spare your life, and only give orders to
put out both your eyes, he humbly conceived that,
by this expedient, justice might in some measure be
satisfied, and all the world would applaud the lenity
of the emperor, as well as the fair and generous pro-
ceedings of those who have the honour to be his
counsellors. That the loss of your eyes would be
no impediment to your bodily strength, by which
you might still be useful to his majesty-that blind-
ness is an addition to courage, by concealing dan-
gers from us-that the fear you had for your eyes
was the greatest difficulty in bringing over the ene-
my's fleet; and it would be sufficient for you to sec
by the eyes of the ministers, since the greatest
princes do no more.
were in their own consciences fully convinced of
your guilt, which was a sufficient argument to con-
demn you to death, without the formal proofs re-
quired by the strict letter of the law.
"But his imperial majesty, fully determined
against capital punishment, was graciously pleased
to say that, since the council thought the loss of
your eyes too easy a censure, some other may be
inflicted hereafter. And your friend the secretary,
humbly desiring to be heard again in answer to
what the treasurer had objected concerning the
great charge his majesty was at in maintaining you,
said, that his excellency, who had the sole disposal
of the emperor's revenue, might easily provide
against that evil by gradually lessening your esta-
blishment; by which, for want of sufficient food,
you will
grow weak and faint, and lose your appe-
títe, and consume in a few months; neither would
the stench of your carcase be then so dangerous
when it should become more than half diminished,
and immediately upon your death, five or six thou-
sand of his majesty's subjects might, in two or three
days, cut the flesh from your bones, take it away by
cart-loads, and bury it in distant parts to prevent in-
fection; leaving the skeleton as a monument of
admiration to posterity.
"Thus, by the great friendship of the secretary,
the whole affair was compromised. It was strictly
enjoined that the project of starving you by degrees
should be kept a secret; but the sentence of putting
out your eyes was entered on the books: none dis-
senting, except Bolgolam the admiral, who, being a
creature of the empress, was perpetually instigated
by her majesty to insist upon your death, she having
borne perpetual malice against you on account of
that infamous and illegal method you took to extin-
guish the fire in her apartment.
"In three days your friend the secretary will be
directed to come to your house, and read before you
the articles of impeachment; and then to signify the
great lenity and favour of his majesty and council,
whereby you are only condemned to the loss of your
eyes, which his majesty does not question you will
gratefully and humbly submit to; and twenty of his
majesty's surgeons will attend, in order to see the
pointed arrows into the balls of your eyes, as you lie
on the ground.
"I leave to your prudence what measures you
will take; and, to avoid suspicion, I must immedi-
ately return in as private a manner as I came."
His lordship did so; and I remained alone, under
many doubts and perplexities of mind.
"This proposal was received with the utmost dis-operation well performed, by discharging very sharp-
approbation by the whole board. Bolgolam, the
admiral, could not preserve his temper; but, rising
up in a fury, said, he wondered how the secretary
durst presume to give his opinion for preserving the
life of a traitor; that the services you had performed
were, by all true reasons of state, the great aggra-
vation of your crimes; that you, who were able to
extinguish the fire by discharge of urine in her ma-
jesty's apartment (which he mentioned with horror),
might at another time raise an inundation by the
same means, to drown the whole palace; and the
same strength which enabled you to bring over the
enemy's fleet might serve, upon the first discontent,
to carry it back: that he had good reasons to think
you were a Big-endian in your heart, and as trea-
son begins in the heart before it appears in overt
Acts, so he accused you as a traitor on that account,
and therefore insisted you should be put to death.
"The treasurer was of the same opinion: he
showed to what straits his majesty's revenue was
reduced by the charge of maintaining you, which
would soon grow insupportable: that the secretary's
expedient of putting out your eyes was so far from
being a remedy against this evil, that it would pro-
bably increase it, as is manifest from the common
practice of blinding some kinds of fowls, after which
they fed the faster and grew sooner fat: that his
sacred majesty and the council, who are your judges,
It was a custom introduced by this prince and his
ministry (very different, as I have been assured,
from the practice of former times), that after the
court had decreed any cruel exccution, either to
gratify the monarch's resentment or the malice of a
favourite, the emperor always made a speech to his
whole council, expressing his great lenity and ten-
derness, as qualities known and confessed by all the
world. This speech was immediately published
throughout the kingdom; nor did anything terrify
the people so much as those encomiums on his ma-
jesty's mercy; because it was observed, that the
more these praises were enlarged and insisted on
the more inhuman was the punishment, and the
sufferer more innocent. Yet, as to myself, I must
confess, having never been designed for a courtier,
either by my birth or education, I was so ill a judge
of things that I could not discover the lenity and
favour of this sentence, but conceived it (perhaps
I
erroneously) rather to be rigorous than gentle.
sometimes thought of standing my trial; for, al-
A VOYAGE TO LILLIPUT.
19
bed, being forced to lie on the ground, wrapped up
in my coverlet.
fuscu;
CHAPTER VIII.
and after some difficulties returns safe to his
native country.
though I could not deny the facts alleged in the
several articles, yet I hoped they would admit of
some extenuation. But, having in my life perused
many state-trials, which I ever observed to terminate
as the judges thought fit to direct, I durst not rely The author, by a lucky accident, finds means to leave Ble-
on so dangerous a decision, in so critical a juncture,
Once I was
and against such powerful enemies.
strongly bent upon resistance; for, while I had
liberty, the whole strength of that empire could
hardly subdue me, and I might
might easily with stones
pelt the metropolis to pieces; but I soon rejected
that project with horror, by remembering the oath I
had made to the emperor, the favours I received
from him, and the high title of nardac he conferred
Neither had I so soon learned the grati
tude of courtiers, to persuade myself that his ma
jesty's present severities acquitted me of all past
obligations.
upon me.
At last I fixed upon a resolution for which it is
probable I may incur some censure, and not un-
justly; for I confess I owe the preserving of my
eyes, and consequently my liberty, to my own great
rashness and want of experience; because, if I had
then known the nature of princes and ministers,
which I have since observed in many other courts,
and their methods of treating criminals less obnoxi-
ous than myself, I should, with great alacrity and
readiness, have submitted to so easy a punishment.
But, hurried on by the precipitancy of youth, and
having his imperial majesty's licence to pay my at-
tendance upon the emperor of Blefuscu, I took this
opportunity, before the three days were elapsed, to
send a letter to my friend the secretary, signifying
my
resolution of setting out that morning for Ble-
fuscu, pursuant to the leave I had got; and, without
waiting for an answer, I went to that side of the
island where our fleet lay. I seized a large man-of-
war, tied a cable to the prow, and, lifting up the an-
chors, I stripped myself, put my clothes (together
with my coverlet, which I carried under my arm)
into the vessel, and, drawing it after me, between
wading and swimming, arrived at the royal port of
Blefuscu, where the people had long expected me:
they lent me two guides to direct me to the capital
city, which is of the same name. I held them in
my hands, till I came within two hundred yards
of the gate, and desired them "to signify my arrival
to one of the secretaries, and let him know I there
waited his majesty's command." I had an answer
in about an hour, "that his majesty, attended by
the royal family and great officers of the court, was
coming out to receive me." I advanced a hundred
yards. The emperor and his train alighted from
their horses, the empress and ladies from their
coaches, and I did not perceive they were in any
fright or concern. I lay on the ground to kiss his
majesty's and the empress's hands. I told his ma-
jesty "that I was come, according to my promise,
and with the licence of the emperor my master, to
have the honour of seeing so mighty a monarch, and
to offer him any service in my power, consistent
with my duty to my own prince;" not mentioning
a word of my disgrace, because I had hitherto no
regular information of it, and might suppose myself
wholly ignorant of any such design: neither could I
reasonably conceive that the emperor would discover
the secret while I was out of his power; wherein,
however, it soon appeared I was deceived.
I shall not trouble the reader with the particular
account of my reception at this court, which was
suitable to the generosity of so great a prince; nor
of the difficulties I was in for want of a house and
Alluding to the proceedings against Oxford, Bolingbroke,
and Atterbury.
|
THREE days after my arrival, walking out of curio-
sity to the north-east coast of the island, I observed,
about half a league off in the sea, somewhat that
looked like a boat overturned. I pulled off my
shoes and stockings, and wading two or three hun-
dred yards, I found the object to approach nearer
by force of the tide
by force of the tide; and then plainly saw it to be a
real boat, which I supposed might by some tempest
have been driven from a ship; whereupon I returned
immediately towards the city, and desired his im-
perial majesty to lend me twenty of the tallest ves-
sels he had left, after the loss of his fleet, and three
thousand seamen, under the command of his vice-
admiral. This fleet sailed round, while I went back
the shortest way to the coast, where I first discovered
the boat. I found the tide had driven it still nearer.
The seamen were all provided with cordage, which
I had beforehand twisted to a sufficient stength.
When the ships came up I stripped myself, and
waded till I came within a hundred yards of the
boat, after which I was forced to swim till I got up
to it. The seamen threw me the end of the cord,
which I fastened to a hole in the fore-part of the
boat, and the other end to a man-of-war; but I
found all my labour to little purpose; for, being out
of my depth, I was not able to work.
In this neces-
sity, I was forced to swim behind, and push the boat
forward, as often as I could, with one of my hands;
and the tide favouring me, I advanced so far that I
could just hold up my chin and feel the ground. I
rested two or three minutes, and then gave the boat
another shove, and so on, till the sea was no higher
than my arm-pits; and now the most laborious part
being over, I took out my other cables, which were
stowed in one of the ships, and fastened them first
to the boat, and then to nine of the vessels which
attended me; the wind being favourable, the seamen
towed and I shoved, until we arrived within forty
yards of the shore; and, waiting till the tide was out,
I got dry to the boat, and by the assistance of two
thousand men, with ropes and engines, I made a
shift to turn it on its bottom, and found it was but
little damaged.
I shall not trouble the reader with the difficulties
I was under, by the help of certain paddles, which
cost me ten days making, to get my boat to the royal
port of Belfuscu, where a mighty concourse of peo-
ple appeared upon my arrival, full of wonder at the
sight of so prodigious a vessel. I told the emperor
"that my good fortune had thrown this boat in my
way, to carry me to some place whence I might re-
turn into my native country; and begged his majesty's
orders for getting materials to fit it up, together with
his licence to depart;" which, after some kind ex-
postulations, he was pleased to grant.
I did very much wonder, in all this time, not to
have heard of any express relating to me from our
emperor to the court of Blefuscu. But I was after-
ward given privately to understand that his imperial
majesty, never imagining I had the least notice of
his designs, believed I was only gone to Belfuscu in
performance of my promise, according to the licence
he had given me, which was well known at our
court, and would return in a few days, when the
ceremony was ended. But he was at last in pain at
my long absence; and, after consulting with tae
treasurer and the rest of that cabal, a person of
C 2
20
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
quality was despatched with the copy of the articles
against me. This envoy had instructions to repre-
sent to the monarch of Belfuscu "the great lenity
of his master, who was content to punish me no fur-
ther than with the loss of mine eyes; that I had
fled from justice; and if I did not return in two
hours I should be deprived of my title of nardac,
and declared a traitor." The envoy further added,
"that in order to maintain the peace and amity be-
tween both empires, his master expected that his
brother of Blefuscu would give orders to have me
sent back to Lilliput, bound hand and foot, to be
punished as a traitor."
The emperor of Blefuscu, having taken three days
to consult, returned an answer consisting of many
civilities and excuses. He said "that, as for send-
ing me bound, his brother knew it was impossible;
that, although I had deprived him of his fleet, yet he
owed great obligations to me for many good offices
I had done him in making the peace. That, how-
ever, both their majesties would soon be made easy;
for I had found a prodigious vessel on the shore, able
to carry me on the sea, which he had given orders
to fit up, with my own assistance and direction;
and he hoped, in a few weeks, both empires would
be freed from so insupportable an incumbrance."
With this answer the envoy returned to Lilliput;
and the monarch of Blefuscu related to me all that
had passed; offering me, at the same time, (but un-
der the scrictest confidence,) his gracious protection,
if I would continue in his service; wherein although
I believed him sincere, yet I resolved never more to
put any confidence in princes or ministers, where I
could possibly avoid it; and therefore, with all due
acknowledgments for his favourable intentions, I hum-
bly begged to be excused. I told him "that, since
fortune, whether good or evil, had thrown a vessel
in my way, I was resolved to venture myself on the
ocean, rather than be an occasion of difference be-
tween two such mighty monarchs." Neither did I
find the emperor at all displeased; and I discovered,
by a certain accident, that he was very glad of my
resolution, and so were most of his ministers.
These considerations moved me to hasten my de-
parture somewhat sooner than I intended; to which
the court, impatient to have me gone, very readily
contributed. Five hundred workmen were employed
to make two sails to my boat, according to my di-
rections, by quilting thirteen folds of their strongest
linen together. I was at the pains of making ropes
and cables, by twisting ten, twenty, or thirty, of the
thickest and strongest of theirs. A great stone that
I happened to find, after a long search, by the sea-
shore, served me for an anchor. I had the tallow
of three hundred cows, for greasing my boat, and
other uses. I was at incredible pains in cutting
down some of the largest timber-trees for oars and
masts, wherein I was, however, much assisted by his
majesty's ship-carpenters, who helped me in smooth-
ing them after I had done the rough work.
In about a month, when all was prepared, I sent
to receive his majesty's commands, and to take my
leave. The emperor and royal family came out of
the palace; I lay down on my face to kiss his hand,
which he very graciously gave me; so did the
empress and young princes of the blood.
His
majesty presented me with fifty purses of two hun-
dred sprugs a-piece, together with his picture at full
length, which I put immediately into one. of my
gloves, to keep it from being hurt. The ceremonies
at my departure were too many to trouble the reader
with at this time.
I stored the boat with the carcases of an hundred
oxen and three hundred sheep, with bread and
drink proportionable, and as much meat ready
dressed as four hundred cooks could provide. I
took with me six cows and two bulls alive, with as
many ewes and rams, intending to carry them into
my own country, and propagate the breed. And to
feed them on board, I had a good bundle of hay
and a bag of corn. I would gladly have taken a
dozen of the natives, but this was a thing the emperor
would by no means permit, and, besides a diligent
search into my pockets, his majesty engaged my
honour "not to carry away any of his subjects, al-
though with their own consent and desire."
роз-
Having thus prepared all things as well as I was
able, I set sail on the twenty-fourth day of Septem-
ber, 1701, at six in the morning; and when I had
gone about four leagues to the northward, the wind
being at south-east, at six in the evening I descried
a small island, about half a league to the north-west.
I advanced forward, and cast anchor on the lee-side.
of the island, which seemed to be uninhabited. [
then took some refreshment, and went to my rest.
I slept well, and, as I conjecture, at least six hourɛ,
for I found the day broke in two hours after 1 awaked.
It was a clear night. I eat my breakfast before the
sun was up; and heaving anchor, the wind being
favourable, I steered the same course that I had
done the day before, wherein I was directed by my
pocket compass. My intention was to reach, if pos-
sible, one of those islands which I had reason to
believe lay to the north-east of Van Diemen's Land.
I discovered nothing all that day; but upon the
next, about three in the afternoon, when I had, by
my computation, made twenty-four leagues from
Blefuscu, I descried a sail steering to the south-east ;
my course was due east. I hailed her, but could
get no answer; yet I found I gained upon her, for
the wind slackened. I made all the sail I could,
and in half an hour she spied me, then hung out her
ancient and discharged a gun. It is not easy to
express the joy I was in upon the unexpected hope
of once more seeing my beloved country and the
dcar pledges I left in it. The ship slackened her
sails, and I came up with her between five and six
in the evening, September 26th; but my heart
leapt within me to see her English colours. I put
my cows and sheep into my coat-pockets, and got
on board with all my little cargo of provisions.
The vessel was an English merchantman, return-
ing from Japan by the North and South Seas; the
captain, Mr. John Biddel of Deptford, a very civil
man and an excellent sailor. We were now in the
latitude of 30 degrees south; there were about fifty
men in the ship; and here I met an old comrade of
mine, one Peter Williams, who gave me a good
character to the captain. This gentleman treated
me with kindness, and desired I would let him
know what place I came from last, and whither I
was bound; which I did in a few words, but he
thought I was raving, and that the dangers I had
undergone had disturbed my head; whereupon I
took my black cattle and sheep out of my pocket,
which, after great astonishment, clearly convinced
him of my veracity. I then showed him the gold
given me by the emperor of Blefuscu, together with
his majesty's picture at full length, and some other
rarities of that country. I gave him two purses of
two hundred sprugs each, and promised, when we
arrived in England, to make him a present of a cow
and a sheep big with young.
I shall not trouble the reader with a particular
account of this voyage, which was very prosperous
for the most part. We arrived in the Downs on
the 13th of April, 1702. I had only one misfor-
tune, that the rats on board carried away one of my
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
21
↑
sheep; I found her bones in a hole, picked clean
from the flesh. The rest of my cattle I got safe
astiore, and set them a grazing in a bowling-green
at Greenwich, where the fineness of the grass made
them feed very heartily, though I had always feared
the contrary; neither could I possibly have preserved
them in so long a voyage, if the captain had not al-
lowed me some of his best biscuit, which, rubbed to
powder, and mingled with water, was their con-
stant food. The short time I continued in England
I made a considerable profit by showing my cattle
to many persons of quality and others; and before
I began my second voyage I sold them for six hun-
dred pounds. Since my last return I find the
breed is considerably increased, especially the sheep,
which I hope will prove much to the advantage of the
woollen manufacture, by the fineness of the fleeces.
I stayed but two months with my wife and family;
for my insatiable desire of seeing foreign countries
would suffer me to continue no longer. I left fif-
|
teen hundred pounds with my wife, and fixed her
in a good house at Redriff. My remaining stock I
carried with me, part in money and part in goods,
in hopes to improve my fortunes. My eldest uncle
John had left me an estate in land, near Epping, of
about thirty pounds a year; and I had a long lease
of the Black Bull in Fetter-lane, which yielded me
as much more; so that I was not in any danger of
leaving my family upon the parish. My son Johnny,
named so after his uncle, was at the grammar-
school, and a towardly child. My daughter Betty
school, and a towardly child.
(who is now well married, and has children) was
then at her needle-work. I took my leave of my
wife, and boy and girl, with tears on both sides,
and went on board the Adventure, a merchant-ship
of three hundred tons, bound for Surat, captain
John Nicholas, of Liverpool, commander. But my
account of this voyage must be referred to the
second part of my travels.
PART THE SECOND.
A VOYAGE TO BROBDING NAG.
CHAPTER 1.
A great storm described, the long-boat sent to fetch water,
the author goes with it to discover the country. He is left
on shore, is seized by one of the natives, and carried to a
farmer's house. His reception, with several accidents that
happened there. A description of the inhabitants.
HAVING been condemned by nature and fortune to
an active and restless life, in two months after my
return I again left my native country, and took
shipping in the Downs on the 20th day of June,
1702, in the Adventure, captain John Nicholas, a
Cornishman, commander, bound for Surat. We
had a very prosperous gale till we arrived at the
Cape of Good Hope, where we landed for fresh
water; but discovering a leak we unshipped our
goods, and wintered there; for the captain falling
sick of an ague, we could not leave the Cape till the
end of March. We then set sail, and had a good
voyage till we passed the Straits of Madagascar;
but having got northward of that island, and to
about five degrees south latitude, the winds, which
in those seas are observed to blow a constant equal
gale between the north and west, from the begin-
ning of December to the beginning of May, on the
19th of April began to blow with much greater vio-
lence, and more westerly than usual, continuing so
for twenty days together: during which time we
were driven a little to the east of the Molucca Is-
lands, and about three degrees northward of the line,
as our captain found by an observation he took the
2nd of May, at which time the wind ceased, and it
was a perfect calm, whereat I was not a little re-
joiced. But he, being a man well experienced in
the navigation of those seas, bid us all prepare
against a storm, which accordingly happened the day
following for the southern wind, called the southern
monsoon, began to set in.
:
Finding it was likely to overblow, [what follows is
a happy parody of the sea-terms in old voyages] we
took in our sprit-sail, and stood by to hand the fore-
sail; but making foul weather, we looked the guns
were all fast, and handed the mizen. The ship lay
very broad off, so we thought it better spooning before
the sea than trying or hulling. We reefed the fore-
sail, and set him, and hauled aft the foresheet; the
nelm was hard a-weather. The ship wore bravely.
We belayed the fore downhaul; but the sail was
split, and we hauled down the yard, and got the
sail into the ship, and unbound all the things clear
of it. It was a very fierce storm; the sea broke
strange and dangerous. We hauled off upon the
laniard of the whipstaff, and helped the man at the
helm. We could not get down our topmast, but
let all stand, because she scudded before the sea
very well, and we knew that the topmast being
aloft the ship was the wholesomer, and made better
way through the sea, seeing we had sea-room.
When the storm was over, we set foresail and main-
sail, and brought the ship to. Then we set the
mizen, main-topsail, and the fore-topsail.
course was east-north-east, the wind was at south-
west. We got the starboard tacks aboard, we cast
off our weather-braces and lifts; we set-in the lee-
braces, and hauled forward by the weather-bow-
lings, and hauled them tight, and belayed them, and
hauled over the mizen tack to windward, and kept
her full and by as near as she would lie.
Our
During this storm, which was followed by a
strong wind west-south-west, we were carried, by
my computation, about five hundred leagues to the
east, so that the oldest sailor on board could not tell
in what part of the world we were. Our provisions
held out well, our ship was stanch, and our crew
all in good health; but we lay in the utmost distress
for water. We thought it best to hold on the same
course, rather than turn more northerly, which might
have brought us to the north-west part of Great
Tartary, and into the Frozen Sea.
On the 16th day of June, 1703, a boy on the top-
mast discovered land. On the 17th we came in
full view of a great island, or continent, (for we
knew not whether), on the south side whereof was
a small neck of land jutting out into the sea, and a
creek too shallow to hold a ship of above one hun-
dred tons. We cast anchor within a league of this
creek, and our captain sent a dozen of his men well
armed in the long-boat, with vessels for water, if
any could be found. I desired his leave to go with
them, that I might see the country, and make what
discoveries I could. When we came to land we
saw no river or spring, nor any sign of inhabitants.
Our men therefore wandered on the shore to find
out some fresh water near the sea, and I walked
alone about a mile on the other side, where I ob-
served the country all barren and rocky. I now be
gan to be weary, and, seeing nothing to entertain
27
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
}
my curiosity, I returned gently down towards the
creek; and the sea being full in my view, I saw our
men already got into the boat, and rowing for life to
the ship. I was going to holla after them, although
it had been to little purpose, when I observed a
huge creature walking after them in the sea, as fast
as he could; he waded not much deeper than his
knees, and took prodigious strides but our men
had the start of him half a league, and, the sea
thereabouts being full of sharp pointed rocks, the
monster was not able to overtake the boat. This I
was afterwards told, for I durst not stay to see the
issue of the adventure; but ran as fast as I could
the way I first went, and then climbed up a steep
hill, which gave me some prospect of the country.
I found it fully cultivated; but that which first sur-
prised me was the length of the grass, which, in
those grounds that seemed to be kept for hay, was
about twenty feet high.
I fell into a high road, for so I took it to be,
though it served to the inhabitants only as a footpath
through a field of barley. Here I walked on for some
time, but could see little on either side, it being now
near harvest, and the corn rising at least forty feet.
I was an hour walking to the end of this field, which
was fenced in with a hedge of at least one hundred
and twenty feet high, and the trees so lofty that I
could make no computation of their altitude. There
was a stile to pass from this field into the next. It
had four steps, and a stone to cross over when you
came to the uppermost. It was impossible for me
to climb this stile, because every step was six feet
high, and the upper stone about twenty. I was
endeavouring to find some gap in the hedge, when I
discovered one of the inhabitants in the next field,
advancing towards the stile, of the same size with
him whom I saw in the sea pursuing our boat.
He
appeared as tall as an ordinary spire-steeple, and
took about ten yards at every stride, as near as I
could guess.
I was struck with the utmost fear and
astonishment, and ran to hide myself in the corn,
whence I saw him at the top of the stile, looking
back into the next field on the right hand, and heard
him call in a voice many degrees louder than a
speaking-trumpet; but the noise was so high in the
air, that at first I certainly thought it was thunder.
Whereupon seven monsters, like himself, came to-
wards him with reaping hooks in their hands, each
hook about the largeness of six scythes. These
people were not so well clad as the first, whose
servants or labourers they seemed to be; for, upon
some words he spoke, they went to reap the corn in
the field where I lay. I kept from them at as great
a distance as I could, but was forced to move with
extreme difficulty, for the stalks of the corn were
sometimes not above a foot distant, so that I could
hardly squeeze my body betwixt them. However,
I made a shift to go forward, till I came to a part of
the field where the corn had been laid by the rain
and wind. Here it was impossible for me to advance
a step, for the stalks were so interwoven that I could
not creep through, and the beards of the fallen ears
so strong and pointed that they pierced through my
clothes into my flesh. At the same time I heard
the reapers not above a hundred yards behind me.
Being quite dispirited with toil, and wholly over-
come by grief and despair, I lay down between two
ridges, and heartily wished I might there end my
days. I bemoaned my desolate widow and fatherless
children. I lamented my own folly and wilfulness,
in attempting a second voyage, against the advice of
all my friends and relations. In this terrible agita-
tion of mind, I could not forbear thinking of Lilliput,
whose inhabitants looked upon me as the greatest
prodigy that ever appeared in the world; where I
was able to draw an imperial fleet in my hand, and
perform those other actions which will be recorded
for ever in the chronicles of that empire, while pos-
terity shall hardly believe them, although attested by
millions. I reflected what a mortification it must
prove to me to appear as inconsiderable in this
nation as one single Lilliputian would be among us.
But this I conceived was to be the least of my mis-
fortunes; for, as human creatures are observed to be
more savage and cruel in proportion to their bulk,
what could I expect but to be a morsel in the mouth
of the first among these enormous barbarians that
should happen to seize me? Undoubtedly philoso-
phers are in the right when they tell us that nothing
is great or little otherwise than by comparison.
It might have pleased fortune to have let the Lilli-
putians find some nation where the people were as
diminutive with respect to them as they were to me.
And who knows but that even this prodigious race.
of mortals might be equally overmatched in some
distant part of the world, whereof we have yet no
discovery?
Scared and confounded as I was, I could not for-
bear going on with these reflections, when one of
the reapers, approaching within ten yards of the ridge
where I lay, made me apprehend that with the next
step I should be squashed to death under his foot, or
cut in two with his reaping-hook. And therefore,
when he was again about to move, I screamed as
loud as fear could make me: whereupon the huge
creature trod short, and looking round about under
him for some time, at last espied me as I lay on the
ground. He considered a while, with the caution
of one who endeavours to lay hold on a small dan-
animal in such a manner that it shall not be
gerous
able either to scratch or to bite him, as I myself have
At
sometimes done with a weasel in England.
length he ventured to take me behind, by the middle,
between his fore-finger and thumb, and brought me
within three yards of his eyes, that he might behold
my shape more perfectly. I guessed his meaning,
and my good fortune gave me so much presence of
mind, that I resolved not to struggle in the least as
he held me in the air above sixty feet from the ground,
although he grievously pinched my sides, for fear I
should slip through his fingers. All I ventured was
to raise mine eyes toward the sun, and place my
hands together in a supplicating posture, and to
speak some words in an humble, melancholy tone,
suitable to the condition I then was in: for I
prehendeded every moment that he would dash me
against the ground, as we usually do any little hate-
ful animal, which we have a mind to destroy. But
my good star would have it that he appeared pleased
with my voice and gestures, and began to look upon
me as a curiosity, much wondering to hear me pro-
nounce articulate words, although he could not un-
derstand them. In the mean time, I was not able to
forbear groaning and shedding tears, and turning
my head towards my sides; letting him know, as
well as I could, how cruelly I was hurt by the pressure
of his thumb and finger. He seemed to apprehend
my meaning; for lifting up the lappet of his coat, he
put me gently into it, and immediately ran along
with me to his master, who was a substantial farmer,
and the same person I had first seen in the field.
ap-
The farmer, having (as I suppose by their talk)
received such an account of me as his servant could
give him, took a piece of a small straw, about the size
of a walking staff, and therewith lifted up the lappets
of my coat; which, it seems, he thought to be some
kind of covering that nature had given me.
biew my hairs aside to take a better view of my face,
He
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
23
He called his hinds about him, and asked them, as I
afterwards learned, "Whether they had ever seen
in the fields any little creature that resembled me?"
He then placed me softly on the ground upon all
four, but I got immediately up, and walked slowly
backward and forward, to let those people see I had
no intent to run away. They all sat down in a
circle about me, the better to observe my motions.
I pulled off my hat, and made a low bow towards
the farmer. I fell on my knees, and lifted up my
hands and eyes, and spoke several words as loud as
I could: I took a purse of gold out of my pocket,
and humbly presented it to him. He received it on
the palm of his hand, then applied it close to his
eye to see what it was, and afterwards turned it
several times with the point of a pin, (which he took
out of his sleeve,) but could make nothing of it.
Whereupon I made a sign that he should place his
hand on the ground. I then took the purse, and
opening it poured all the gold into his palm. There
were six Spanish pieces of four pistoles each, besides
twenty or thirty smaller coins. I saw him wet the
tip of his little finger upon his tongue, and take up
one of my largest pieces, and then another; but he
seemed to be wholly ignorant what they were.
He
made me a sign to put them again into my purse,
and the purse again into my pocket, which, after
offering it to him several times, I thought it best
to do.
The farmer, by this time, was convinced I must
be a rational creature. He spoke often to me; but
the sound of his voice pierced my ears like that of a
water-mill, yet his words were articulate enough. I
answered as loud as I could in several languages,
and he often laid his ear within two yards of me;
but all in vain, for we were wholly unintelligible to
each other. He then sent his servants to their work,
and taking his handkerchief out of his pocket, he
doubled and spread it on his left hand, which he
placed flat on the ground, with the palm upward,
making me a sign to step into it, as I could easily
do, for it was not above a foot in thickness. I
thought it my part to obey; and, for fear of falling,
and, for fear of falling,
laid myself at full length upon the handkerchief,
with the remainder of which he lapped me up to the
head for further security, and in this manner
carried me home to his house. There he called his
wife, and showed me to her; but she screamed and
ran back, as women in England do at the sight of a
toad or a spider. However, when she had awhile
seen my behaviour, and how well I observed the
signs her husband made, she was soon reconciled,
and by degrees grew extremely tender of me.
It was about twelve at noon, and a servant brought
in dinner. It was only one substantial dish of meat,
(fit for the plain condition of a husbandman), in a
dish of about four-and-twenty feet diameter. The
company were, the farmer and his wife, three chil-
dren, and an old grandmother. When they were
sat down, the farmer placed me at some distance
from him on the table, which was thirty feet high
from the floor. I was in a terrible fright, and kept
as far as I could from the edge, for fear of falling. The
wife minced a bit of meat, then crumbled some
bread on a trencher, and placed it before me. I
made her a low bow, took out my knife and fork,
and fell to eat, which gave them exceeding delight.
The mistress sent her maid for a small dram cup
which held about two gallons, and filled it with drink;
I took up the vessel with much difficulty in both
hands, and in a most respectful manner drank to her
ladyship's health, expressing the words as loud as I
could in English, which made the company laugh so
heartily, that I was almost deafened with the noise.
|
This liquor tasted like a small cider, and was not
unpleasant. Then the master made me a sign to
come to his trencher side; but as I walked on the
table, being in great surprise all the time, as the in-
1
dulgent reader will easily conceive and excuse,
happened to stumble against a crust, and fell flat on
my face, but received no hurt. I got up immediately,
and observing the good people to be in much con-
cern, I took my hat, (which I held under my arm
out of good manners,) and waving it over my head,
made three huzzas, to show I had got no mischief by
my fall. But advancing forward towards my master
(as I shall henceforth call him), his youngest son,
who sat next to him, an arch boy of about ten years
old, took me up by the legs, and held me so high in
the air, that I trembled every limb; but his father
snatched me from him, and at the same time gave
him such a box on the left ear as would have felled
an European troop of horse to the earth, ordering him
to be taken from the table. But being afraid the
boy might owe me a spite, and well remembering
how mischievous all children among us naturally are
to sparrows, rabbits, young kittens, and puppy-degs,
I fell on my knees, and, pointing to the boy, made
my master to understand, as well as I could, that I
desired his son might be pardoned. The father
complied, and the lad took his seat again, whereupon
I went to him and kissed his hand, which my master
took, and made him stroke me gently with it.
In the midst of dinner, my mistress's favourite cat
leaped into her lap. I heard a noise behind me like
that of a dozen stocking-weavers at work; and turn-
ing my head I found it proceeded from the purring of
that animal, who seemed to be three times larger than
an ox, as I computed by the view of her head and one
of her paws, while her mistress was feeding and strok-
ing her. The fierceness of this creature's countenance
altogether discomposed me; though I stood at the far-
ther end of the table, about fifty feet off; and, although
my mistress held her fast, for fear she might give a
spring, and seize me in her talons. But it happened
there was no danger; for the cat took not the least
notice of me when my master placed me within three
yards of her. And, as I have been always told, and
found true by experience in my travels, that flying
or discovering fear before a fierce animal is a certain
way to make it pursue or attack you, so I resolved,
in this dangerous juncture, to show no manner of
concern. I walked with intrepidity five or six times
before the very head of the cat, and came within
half a yard of her; whereupon she drew herself
back, as if she were more afraid of me. I had less
apprehension concerning the dogs, whereof three or
four came into the room, as it is usual in farmer's
houses: one of which was a mastiff, equal in bulk
to four elephants, and a greyhound, somewhat taller
than the mastiff, but not so large.
When dinner was almost done, the nurse came in
with a child of a year old in her arms, who imme-
diately spied me, and began a squall that you might
have heard from London-bridge to Chelsea, after the
usual oratory of infants, to get me for a plaything.
The mother, out of pure indulgence, took me up,
and put me towards the child, who presently seized
by the middle, and got my head into his mouth,
where I roared so loud that the urchin was frighted,
and let me drop, and I should infallibly have broke
my neck, if the mother had not held her apron under
The nurse, to quiet her babe, made use of a
rattle, which was a kind of hollow vessel filled with
great stones, and fastened by a cable to the child's
waist but all in vain, so that she was forced to
apply the last remedy by giving it suck. I must
confess no object ever disgusted me so much as the
me.
24
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
sight of her monstrous breast, which I cannot tell
what to compare with, so as to give the curious
reader an idea of its bulk, shape, and colour. It
stood prominent six feet, and could not be less than
sixteen in circumference. The nipple was about
half the bigness of my head, and the hue, both of
that and the dug, so varied with spots, pimples, and
freckles, that nothing could appear more nauseous:
for I had a near sight of her, she sitting down, the
more conveniently to give suck, and I standing on
the table. This made me reflect upon the fair skins
of our English ladies, who appear so beautiful to
us only because they are of our own size, and their
defects not to be seen but through a magnifying glass;
where we find by experiment that the smoothest
and whitest skins look rough, and coarse, and ill-
coloured.
I remember, when I was at Lilliput, the complex-
ions of those diminutive people appeared to me the
fairest in the world; and talking upon this subject
with a person of learning there, who was an intimate
friend of mine, he said that my face appeared much
fairer and smoother when he looked on me from the
ground than it did upon a nearer view when I took
him up in my hand and brought him close, which he
confessed was at first a very shocking sight. He said,
"he could discover great holes in my skin; that the
stumps of my beard were ten times stronger than the
bristles of a boar, and my complexion made up of
several colours altogether disagreeable;" although I
must beg leave to say for myself that I am as fair as
most of my sex and country, and very little sunburnt
by all my travels. On the other side, discoursing of
the ladies in that emperor's court, he used to tell me,
"one had freckles, another too wide a mouth, a
third too large a nose;" nothing of which I was able
to distinguish. I confess, this reflection was obvious
enough; which, however, I could not forbear, lest
the reader might think those vast creatures were
actually deformed: for I must do them the justice
to say they are a comely race of people; and parti-
cularly the features of my master's countenance,
although he were but a farmer, when I beheld him
from the height of sixty feet, appeared very well
proportioned.
When dinner was done my master went out to
his labourers, and, as I could discover by his voice
and gestures, gave his wife a strict charge to take
care of me. I was very much tired, and disposed to
sleep, which my mistress perceiving, she put me on
her own bed, and covered me with a clean white
handkerchief, but larger and coarser than the main-
sail of a man-of-war.
I slept about two hours, and dreamt I was at home
with my wife and children, which aggravated my
sorrows when I awaked and found myself alone in
a vast room, between two and three hundred feet
wide, and above two hundred high, lying in a bed
twenty yards wide. My mistress was gone about her
household affairs, and had locked me in. The bed
was eight yards from the floor. Some natural neces-
sities required me to get down; I durst not presume
to call; and if I had, it would have been in vain,
with such a voice as mine, at so great a distance
as from the room where I lay to the kitchen where
the family kept. While I was under these circum-
stances, two rats crept up the curtains, and ran
smelling backwards and forwards on the bed. One
of them came up almost to my face, whereupon I
rose in a fright, and drew out my hanger to defend
myself. These horrible animals had the boldness to
attack me on both sides, and one of them held his
forefcet at my collar; but I had the good fortune to
rip up his belly, before he could do me any mischief,
He fell down at my feet; and the other, seeing the
fate of his comrade, made his escape, but not with-
out one good wound on the back, which I gave hin
as he fled, and made the blood run trickling from
him. After this exploit, I walked gently to and fr
on the bed, to recover my breath and loss of spirits
These creatures were of the size of a large mastiff,
but infinitely more nimble and fierce; so that, if I had
taken off my belt before I went to sleep, I must have
infallibly been torn to pieces and devoured. I mea-
sured the tail of the dead rat, and found it to be two
yards long, wanting an inch; but it went against my
stomach to drag the carcass off the bed, where it lay
still bleeding; I observed it had yet some life, but
with a strong slash across the neck, I thoroughly
despatched it.
up
Soon after my mistress came into the room, who,
seeing me all bloody, ran and took me up in her
hand. I pointed to the dead rat, smiling and mak-
ing other signs to show I was not hurt ; whereat she
was extremely rejoiced, calling the maid to take
the dead rat with a pair of tongs, and throw it out
of the window. Then she set me on a table,
where I showed her my hanger all bloody, and, wip-
ing it on the lappet of my coat, returned it to the
scabbard. I was pressed to do more than one thing
which another could not do for me, and therefore
endeavoured to make my mistress understand, that
I desired to be set down on the floor; which, after
she had done, my bashfulness would not suffer me
to express myself further than by pointing to the
door and bowing several times. The good woman,
with much difficulty, at last perceived what I would
be at, and, taking me up again in her hand, walked
into the garden, where she set me down. I went
on one side about two hundred yards, and beckon-
ing to her not to look or to follow me, I hid myself
between two leaves of sorrel, and there discharged
the necessities of nature.
I hope the gentle reader will excuse me for dwell-
ing on these and the like particulars, which, however
insignificant they may appear to grovelling vulgar
minds, yet will certainly help a philosopher to en-
large his thoughts and imagination, and apply them
to the benefit of public as well as private life, which
was my sole design in presenting this and other ac-
counts of my travels to the world: wherein I have
been chiefly studious of truth, without affecting any
ornaments of learning or of style. But the whole
scene of this voyage made so strong an impression
on my mind, and is so deeply fixed in my memory,
that, in committing it to paper, I did not omit one
material circumstance: however, upon a strict re-
view, I blotted out several passages of less moment,
which were in my first copy, for fear of being cen-
sured as tedious and trifling, whereof travellers are
often, perhaps not without justice, accused.
CHAPTER II.
A description of the farmer's daughter. The author carried to
a market-town, and then to the metropolis. The particulars
of his journey.
My mistress had a daughter of nine years old, a
child of towardly parts for her age, very dexterous at
her needle, and skilful in dressing her baby. Her
mother and she contrived to fit up the baby's cradle
for me against night; the cradle was put into a
small drawer of a cabinet, and the drawer placed
upon a hanging shelf for fear of the rats.
This was
my bed all the time I staid with those people, though
made more convenient by degrees, as I began to
learn their language and make my wants known.
This young girl was so handy, that, after I had once
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
24
or twice pulled off my clothes before her, she was
able to dress and undress me, though I never gave
her that trouble when she would let me do either
myself. She made me seven shirts, and some other
linen, of as fine cloth as could be got, which indeed
was coarser than sackcloth; and these she con-
stantly washed for me with her own hands. She
was likewise my schoolmistress, to teach me the
language when I pointed to anything she told ine
the name of it in her own tongue, so that in a few
days I was able to call for whatever I had a mind
to. She was very good-natured, and not above
forty feet high, being little for her age. She gave
me the name of Grildrig, which the family took up,
and afterwards the whole kingdom. The word im-
ports what the Latins call nanunculus, the Italians
homunceletino, and the English mannikin. To her
I chiefly owe my preservation in that country; we
never parted while I was there; I called her my
Glumdalclitch, or little nurse; and should be guilty
of great ingratitude if I omitted this honourable
mention of her care and affection towards me, which
I heartily wish it lay in my power to requite as she
deserves, instead of being the innocent but unhappy
instrument of her disgrace, as I have too much reason
to fear.
public spectacle to the meanest of the people. She
said her papa and mamma had promised that Grild-
rig should be hers; but now she found they meant
to serve her as they did last year, when they pre-
| tended to give her a lamb, and yet, as soon as it
was fat, sold it to a butcher. For my own part, 1
may truly affirm that I was less concerned than iny
nurse. I had a strong hope, which never left me,
that I should one day recover my liberty; and, as
to the ignominy of being carried about for a monster,
I considered myself to be a perfect stranger in the
country, and that such a misfortune could never be
charged upon me as a reproach if ever I should re
turn to England, since the king of Great Britain
himself, in my condition, must have undergone the
same distress.
My master, pursuant to the advice of his friend,
carried me in a box the next market-day to the
neighbouring town, and took along with him his
little daughter, my nurse, upon a pillion behind
him.
The box was close on every side, with a little
door for me to go in and out, aud a few gimlet-
holes to let in air. The girl had been so careful as
to put the quilt of her baby's bed into it for me
to lie down on. However, I was terribly shaken
and discomposed in this journey, though it were
but of half an hour; for the horse went about forty
feet at every step, and trotted so high that the
agitation was equal to the rising and falling of a
ship in a great storm, but much more frequent. Our
journey was somewhat farther than from London
to St. Alban's. My master alighted at an inn
which he used to frequent; and, after consulting a
while with the innkeeper, and making some neces-
sary preparations, he hired the grultrud, or crier, to
give notice through the town of a strange creature
to be seen at the sign of the Green Eagle, not so big
as a splacnuck (an animal in that country very finely
the body resembling a human creature, could speak
several words, and perform a hundred diverting
tricks.
I
It now began to be known and talked of in the
neighbourhood that my master had found a strange.
animal in the field, about the bigness of a splacnuck,
but exactly shaped in every part like a human crea-
ture, which it likewise imitated in all its actions,
seemed to speak in a little language of its own, had
already learned several words of theirs, went erect
upon two legs, was tame and gentle, would come
when it was called, do whatever it was bid, had the
finest limbs in the world, and a complexion fairer
than a nobleman's daughter of three years old.
Another farmer, who lived hard by, and was a par-
ticular friend of my master, came on a visit on pur-shaped, about six feet long), and in every part of
pose to inquire into the truth of this story. I was
immediately produced and placed upon a table,
where I walked as I was commanded, drew my
hanger, put it up again, made my reverence to
my master's guest, asked him, in his own language,
how he did, and told him he was welcome, just as
my
little nurse had instructed me. This man, who
was old and dim-sighted, put on his spectacles to
behold me better, at which I could not forbear
laughing very heartily, for his eyes appeared like
the full moon shining into a chamber at two win-
dows. Our people, who discovered the cause of my
mirth, bore me company in laughing, at which the
old fellow was fool enough to be angry and out of
countenance. He had the character of a great
miser; and, to my misfortune, he well deserved it,
by the cursed advice he gave my master to show
me as a sight upon a market-day in the next town,
which was half an hour's riding, about two-and-
twenty miles from our house. I guessed there was
some mischief contriving when I observed my
master and his friend whispering long together,
sometimes pointing at me; and my fears made me
fancy that I overheard and understood some of their
words. But the next morning Glumdalelitch, my
little nurse, told me the whole matter, which she
had cunningly picked out from her mother. The
poor girl laid me on her bosom, and fell a-weeping
with shame and grief. She apprehended some mis-
chief would happen to me from rude vulgar folks,
who might squeeze me to death or break one of
my limbs by taking me in their hands. She had
also observed how modest I was in my nature, how
nicely I regarded my honour, and what an indignity
1 should conceive it to be exposed for money as a
|
I was placed upon a table in the largest room of
the inn, which might be near three hundred feet
square. My little nurse stood on a low stool close
to the table, to take care of me and direct what I
should do. My master, to avoid a crowd, would
suffer only thirty people at a time to see me.
walked about on the table as the girl commanded;
she asked me questions as far as she knew my un-
derstanding of the language reached, and I answered
them as loud as I could. I turned about several
times to the company, paid my humble respects,
said they were welcome, and used some other speeches
I had been taught. I took up a thimble filled with
liquor, which Glumdalclitch had given me for a cup,
and drank their health. I drew out my hanger, and
flourished with it after the manner of fencers in
England. My nurse gave me a part of a straw,
which I exercised as a pike, having learnt the art
in my youth. I was that day shown to twelve sets
of company, and as often forced to act over again
the same fopperies, till I was half dead with weari-
ness and vexation; for those who had seen me made
such wonderful reports that the people were ready
to break down the doors to come in. My master,
for his own interest, would not suffer any one to
touch me except my nurse; and to prevent danger
benches were set round the table at such a distance
as to put me out of everybody's reach. However,
an unlucky school-boy aimed a hazel-nut directly
at my head, which very narrowly missed me, other-
wise it came with so much violence that it would
have infallibly knocked out my brains, for it was
26
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
Į
almost as large as a small pumpion; but I had the
satisfaction to see the young rogue well beaten and
turned out of the room.
It
My master gave public notice that he would show
me again the next market-day; and in the mean-
time he prepared a more convenient vehicle for me,
which he had reason enough to do; for I was so
tired with my first journey, and with entertaining
company for eight hours together, that I could
hardly stand upon my legs or speak a word,
was at least three days before I recovered my
strength; and that I might have no rest at home all
the neighbouring gentlemen, from a hundred miles
round, hearing of my fame, came to see me at my
master's own house. There could be no fewer than
thirty persons, with their wives and children (for
the country is very populous); and my master de-
manded the rate of a full room whenever he showed
me at home, although it were only to a single
family; so that, for some time, I had but little ease
every day of the week (except Wednesday, which is
their Sabbath), although I were not carried to the
town.
My master, finding how profitable I was likely to
be, resolved to carry me to the most considerable
cities of the kingdom. Having therefore provided
himself with all things necessary for a long journey,
and settled his affairs at home, he took leave of his
wife; and, upon the 17th of August, 1703, about
two months after my arrival, we set out for the
metropolis, situate near the middle of that empire,
and about three thousand miles distance from our
house. My master made his daughter Glumdalelitch
ride behind him. She carried me on her lap, in a
box tied about her waist. The girl had lined it on
all sides with the softest cloth she could get, well
quilted underneath, furnished it with her baby's
bed, provided me with linen and other necessarics,
and made everything as convenient as she could.
We had no other company but a boy of the house,
who rode after us with the luggage.
My master's design was to show me in all the
towns by the way, and to step out of the road, for
fifty or a hundred miles, to any village or person of
quality's house where he might expect custom. We
made easy journeys, of not above seven or eight
score miles a-day, for Glumdalclitch, on purpose to
spare me, complained she was tired with the trotting
of the horse. She often took me out of my box, at
my own desire, to give me air and show me the
country, but always held me fast by a leading-string.
We passed over five or six rivers, many degrees
broader and deeper than the Nile or the Ganges;
and there was hardly a rivulet so small as the Thames
at London-bridge. We were ten weeks in our jour-
ney, and I was shown in eighteen large towns, be-
sides many villages and private families.
On the 26th day of October we arrived at the
metropolis, called in their language Lorbrulgrud, or
Pride of the Universe. My master took a lodging
in the principal street of the city, not far from the
royal palace, and put out bills in the usual form,
containing an exact description of my person and
parts. He hired a large room between three and
four hundred feet wide. He provided a table sixty
feet in diameter, upon which I was to act my part,
and pallisadoed it round three feet from the edge,
and as many high, to prevent my falling over.
was shown ten times a-day, to the wonder and satis-
faction of all people. I could now speak the lan-
guage tolerably well, and perfectly understood every
word that was spoken to me. Besides, I had learnt
their alphabet, and could make a shift to explain a
sentence here and there; for Glumdalelitch had
I
|
been my instructor while we were at home, and at
leisure hours during our journey. She carried a
little book in her pocket not much larger than a
Sanson's Atlas ; it was a common treatise for the
use of young girls, giving a short account of their
religion: out of this she taught me my letters, and
interpreted the words.
A
CHAPTER III.
The author is sent for to court. The queen buys him of his
master the farmer, and presents him to the king. He dis-
putes with his majesty's great scholars. An apartment at
court provided for the author. He is in high favour with
the queen. He stands up for the honour of his own country.
His quarrels with the queen's dwarf.
THE frequent labours I underwent every day made
in a few weeks a very considerable change in my
health the more my master got by me the more
I had quite lost my stomach,
insatiable he grew.
and was almost reduced to a skeleton. The farmer
observed it, and concluding I must soon die, resolved
to make as good a hand of me as he could. While
he was thus reasoning and resolving with himself,
a sardral, or gentleman-usher, came from court,
commanding my master to carry me immediately
thither for the diversion of the queen and her ladies.
Some of the latter had already been to see me, and
reported strange things of my beauty, behaviour,
and good sense. Her majesty, and those who at-
tended her, were beyond measure delighted with my
demeanour. I fell on my knees, and begged the
honour of kissing her imperial foot; but this graci-
ous princess held out her little finger towards me,
after I was set on a table, which I embraced in both
my arms, and put the tip of it with the utmost
respect to my lip. She made me some general
questions about my country and my travels, which I
answered as distinctly and in as few words as I
could. She asked, "Whether I would be content
to live at court?" I bowed down to the board of
the table, and humbly answered, "That I was my
master's slave; but, if I were at my own disposal, I
should be proud to devote my life to her majesty's
service." She then asked my master, "Whether he
was willing to sell me at a good price?" He, who
apprehended I could not live a month, was ready
enough to part with me, and demanded a thousand
pieces of gold, which were ordered him on the spot,
each piece being about the bigness of eight hundred
moidores but allowing for the proportion of all
things between that country and Europe, and the
high price of gold among them, was hardly so great
a sum as a thousand guineas would be in England.
I then said to the queen, "Since I was now her
majesty's most humble creature and vassal, I must
beg the favour that Glumdalclitch, who had always
tended me with so much care and kindness, and un-
derstood to do it so well, might be admitted into
her service, and continue to be my nurse and in-
structor."
Her majesty agreed to my petition, and easily got
the farmer's consent, who was glad enough to have
his daughter preferred at court, and the poor girl
herself was not able to hide her joy. My late mas-
ter withdrew,
ter withdrew, bidding me farewell, and saying he
had left me in a good service; to which I replied
not a word, only making him a slight bow.
The queen observed my coldness; and, when the
farmer was gone out of the apartment, asked me the
reason. I made bold to tell her majesty "That I
owed no other obligation to my late master than his
not dashing out the brains of a poor harmless crea-
ture, found by chance in his field: which obligation
was amply recompensed by the gain he had made
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
27
In showing me through half the kingdom, and the
price he had now sold me for. That the life I 1
since led was laborious enough to kill an animal of
ten times my strength. That my health was much
impaired by the continual drudgery of entertaining
the rabble every hour of the day; and that, if my
master had not thought my life in danger, her ma-
jesty would not have got so cheap a bargain. But
as I was out of all fear of being ill treated, under
the protection of so great and good an empress, the
ornament of nature, the darling of the world, the
delight of her subjects, the phoenix of the creation ;
so I hoped my late master's apprehensions would
appear to be groundless; for I already found my
spirits revive by the influence of her most august
presence."
This was the sum of my speech, delivered with
great improprieties and hesitation. The latter part
was altogether framed in the style peculiar to that
people, whereof I learned some phrases from Glum-
dalclitch while she was carrying me to court.
The queen, giving great allowance for my defec-
tiveness in speaking, was, however, surprised at so
much wit and good sense in so diminutive an ani-
mal. She took me in her own hand and carried
me to the king, who was then retired to his cabinet.
His majesty, a prince of much gravity and austere
countenance, not well observing my shape at first
view, asked the queen, after a cold manner," How
long it was since she grew fond of a splacnuck"
for such, it seems, he took me to be, as I lay upon
my breast in her majesty's right hand. But this
princess, who has an infinite deal of wit and humour,
set me gently on my feet upon the scrutoire, and
commanded me to give his majesty an account of my-
self, which I did in a very few words: and Glum-
dalclitch, who attended at the cabinet door, and
could not endure I should be out of her sight, being
admitted, confirmed all that had passed from my
arrival at her father's house.
could not imagine how I should be able to support
myself, unless I fed upon snails and other insects,
which they offered, by many learned arguments, to
evince that I could not possibly do. One of these
virtuosi seemed to think that I might be an embryo,
or abortive birth. But this opinion was rejected by
the other two, who observed my limbs to be perfect
and finished; and that I had lived several years, as
it was manifest from my beard, the stumps whereof
they plainly discovered through a magnifying-glass ;
they would not allow me to be a dwarf, because my
littleness was beyond all degrees of comparison; for
the queen's favourite dwarf, the smallest ever known
in that kingdom, was near thirty feet high. After
much debate, they concluded unanimously that I was
only relplum scalcath, which is interpreted literally
lusus naturæ; a determination exactly agreeable to
the modern philosophy of Europe, whose professors,
disdaining the old evasion of occult causes, whereby
the followers of Aristotle endeavoured in vain to
disguise their ignorance, have invented this wonder-
ful solution of all difficulties, to the unspeakable
advancement of human knowledge.
After this decisive conclusion I entreated to be
heard a word or two. I applied myself to the king,
and assured his majesty "that I came from a coun-
try which abounded with several millions of both
sexes, and of my own stature; where the animals,
trees, and houses were all in proportion, and where,
by consequence, I might be as able to defend myself
and to find sustenance as any of his majesty's sub-
jects could do here; which I took for a full answer
to those gentlemen's arguments." To this they
only replied with a smile of contempt, saying "that
the farmer had instructed me very well in my les-
The king, who had a much better under-
standing, dismissing his learned men, sent for
the farmer, who, by good fortune, was not yet
gone out of town. Having, therefore, first ex-
amined him privately, and then confronted him
with me and the young girl, his majesty began
to think that what we told him might possibly be
true. He desired the queen to order that a parti-
cular care should be taken of me; and was of opi-
son."'*
office of tending me, because he observed we had a
great affection for each other. A convenient apart-
ment was provided for her at court; she had a sort
of governess appointed to take care of her education,
a maid to dress her, and two other servants for
menial offices; but the care of me was wholly ap-
The king, although he be as learned a person as any
in his dominions, had been educated in the study of
philosophy, and particularly in mathematics; yet
when he observed my shape exactly, and saw me
walk erect, before I began to speak, conceived Inion that Glumdalelitch should still continue in her
might be a piece of clock-work (which is in that
country arrived to a very great perfection) contrived
by some ingenious artist. But when he heard my
voice, and found what I delivered to be regular
and rational, he could not conceal his astonishment.
He was by no means satisfied with the relation I
gave him of the manner I came into his kingdom,propriated to herself. The queen commanded her
but thought it a story concerted between Glumdal-
clitch and her father, who had taught me a set of
words to make me sell at a better price. Upon this
imagination, he put several other questions to me,
and still received rational answers; no otherwise
defective than by a foreign accent, and an imperfect
knowledge in the language, with some rustic phrases
which I had learned at the farmer's house, and did
not suit the polite style of a court.
His majesty sent for three great scholars who were
then in their weekly waiting, according to the cus-
tom in that country. These gentlemen, after they
had awhile examined my shape with much nicety,
were of different opinions concerning me. They all
agreed that I could not be produced according to the
regular laws of nature, because I was not framed with
a capacity of preserving my life, either by swiftness, or
climbing of trees, or digging holes in the earth.
They observed by my teeth, which they viewed with
great exactness, that I was a carnivorous animal
yet, most quadrupeds being an over-match for me,
and field-mice, with some others, too nimble, they
;
|
own cabinet-maker to contrive a box, that might
serve me for a bed-chamber, after the model that
Glumdalelitch and I should agree upon. This man
was a most ingenious artist, and, according to my
direction, in three weeks, finished for me a wooden
chamber of sixteen feet square, and twelve high, with
sash-windows, a door, and two closets, like a London
bed-chamber. The board that made the ceiling was
to be lifted up and down by two hinges, to put in a bed
ready furnished by her majesty's upholsterer, which
Glumdalelitch took out every day to air, made it
with her own hands, and, letting it down at night,
locked up the roof over me. A nice workman, who
was famous for little curiosities, undertook to make
me two chairs, with backs and frames, of a substance
not unlike ivory, and two tables, with a cabinet to
to put my things in. The room was quilted on all
sides, as well as the floor and the ceiling, to prevent
any accident from the carelessness of those who
carried me, and to break the force of a jolt, when I
* Levelled against all who reject facts for which they canno
ace ›.nt.
28
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
{
went in a coach. I desired a lock for my door, to
prevent rats and mice from coming in. The smith,
after several attempts, made the smallest that ever
was seen among them, for I have known a larger at
the gate of a gentleman's house in England. 1 made
a shift to keep the key in a pocket of my own, fearing
Glumdalelitch might lose it. The queen likewise
ordered the thinnest silks that could be gotten, to
make me clothes, not much thicker than an English
blanket, very
cumbersome till I was accustomed to
them. They were after the fashion of the kingdom,
partly resembling the Persian, and partly the Chinese,
and are a very grave and decent habit.
The queen became so fond of my company, that she
could not dine without me. I had a table placed upon
the same at which her majesty eat, just at her left
elbow, and a chair to sit on. Glumdalclitch stood
on a stool on the floor near my table, to assist and
take care of me. I had an entire set of silver dishes
and plates, and other necessaries, which, in propor-
tion to those of the queen, were not much bigger
than what I have seen in a London toy-shop, for the
furniture of a baby-house: these my little nurse kept
in her pocket in a silver box, and gave me at meals
as I wanted them, always cleaning them herelf. No
person dined with the queen but the two princesses
royal, the elder sixteen years old, and the younger
at that time thirteen and a month. Her majesty
used to put a bit of meat upon one of my dishes, out
of which I carved for myself, and her diversion was
to see me eat in miniature; for the queen (who had
indeed but a weak stomach) took up at one mouth-
ful as much as a dozen English farmers could eat at
a meal, which to me was, for some time, a very nau-
seous sight. She would craunch the wing of a lark,
bones and all, between her teeth, although it were
nine times as large as that of a full-grown turkey;
and put a bit of bread in her mouth as big as two
twelvepenny loaves. She drank out of a golden
cup, above a hogshead at a draught. Her knives
were twice as long as a scythe, set straight upon the
handle. The spoons, forks, and other instruments,
were all in the same proportion. I remember when
Glumdalclitch carried me, out of curiosity, to see
some of the tables at court, where ten or a dozen of
those enormous knives and forks were lifted up to-
gether, I thought I had never, till then, beheld so
terrible a sight.
It is the custom that every Wednesday (which,
as I have observed, is their sabbath) the king and
queen, with the royal issue of both sexes, dine toge-
ther in the apartment of his majesty, to whom I was
now become a great favourite; and at these times,
my little chair and table were placed at his left hand,
before one of the salt-cellars. This prince took a
pleasure in conversing with me, inquiring into the
manners, religion, laws, government, and learning
of Europe; wherein I gave him the best account I
was able. His apprehension was so clear, and his
judgment so exact, that he made very wise reflections
and observations upon all I said. But I confess
that, after I had been a little too copious in talking
of my own beloved country, of our trade, and wars by
sea and land, of our schisms in religion, and parties
in the state, the prejudices of his education prevailed
so far, that he could not forbear taking me up in his
right hand, and stroking me gently with the other,
after a hearty fit of laughing, asked me "Whether
I was a Whig or Tory ?" Then turning to his first
minister, who waited behind him with a white staff,
near as tall as the mainmast of the Royal Sovereign,
he observed, "How contemptible a thing was human
grandeur, which could be mimicked by such dimi-
nutive insects as I! and yet," says he, "I darc en-
gage, these creatures have their titles and distinc
tions of honour; they contrive little nests and bur-
rows, that they call houses and cities; they make a
figure in dress and equipage; they love, they fight,
they dispute, they cheat, they betray!" And thus
he continued on, while my colour came and went
several times, with indignation, to hear our noble
country, the mistress of arts and arms, the scourge
of France, the arbitress of Europe, the seat of virtue,
piety, honour, and truth, the pride and envy of the
world, so contemptuously treated.
But as I was not in a condition to resent injuries,
so, upon mature thoughts, I began to doubt whether
I was injured or no. For, after having been ac-
customed several months to the sight and converse
of this people, and observed every object upon which
I cast mine eyes to be of proportionable magnitude,
the horror I had at first conceived from their bulk
and aspect was so far worn off, that, if I had then
beheld a company of English lords and ladies in their
finery and birthday clothes, acting their several parts
in the most courtly manner of strutting, and bowing,
and prating; to say the truth, I should have been
strongly tempted to laugh as much at them as the king
and his grandees did at me.
and his grandees did at me. Neither, indeed, could
I forbear smiling at myself, when the queen used to
place me upon her hand towards a looking-glass, by
which both our persons appeared before me in full
view together; and there could be nothing more ri-
diculous than the comparison: so that I really began
to imagine myself dwindled many degrees below my
usual size.
Nothing angered and mortified me so much as the
queen's dwarf; who, being of the lowest stature that
was ever in that country (for I verily think he was
not full thirty feet high), became so insolent at see-
ing a creature so much beneath him, that he would
always affect to swagger and look big as he passed
by me in the queen's antechamber, while I was
standing on some table talking with the lords or
ladies of the court, and he seldom failed of a smart
word or two upon my littleness; against which I could
only revenge myself by calling him brother, challeng-
ing him to wrestle, and such repartees as are usually
in the mouths of court pages. One day, at dinner,
this malicious little cub was so nettled with some-
thing I had said to him, that, raising himself upon
the frame of her majesty's chair, he took me up by
the middle, as I was sitting down, not thinking any
harm, and let me drop into a large silver bowl of
cream, and then ran away as fast as he could. I
fell over head and ears, and, if I had not been a
good swimmer, it might have gone very hard with
me; for Glumdalclitch in that instant happened to
be at the other end of the room, and the queen was
in such a fright that she wanted presence of mind
to assist me. But my little nurse ran to my relief,
and took me out, after I had swallowed above a
quart of cream. I was put to bed however, I re-
ceived no other damage than the loss of a suit of
clothes, which was utterly spoiled. The dwarf was
soundly whipped, and, as a further punishment,
forced to drink up the bowl of cream into which he
had thrown me: neither was he ever restored to
favour; for soon after the queen bestowed him on a
lady of high quality, so that I saw him no mure, to
very great satisfaction; for I could not tell to what
extremity such a malicious urchin might have carried
his resentment.
my
He had before served me a scurvy trick, which se
the queen a-laughing, although at the same time she
was heartily vexed, and would have immediately
cashiered him, if I had not been so generous as to
intercede. Her majesty had taken a marrow-bong
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
29
upon her plate, and, after knocking out the marrow,
placed the bone again in the dish erect, as it stood
before; the dwarf, watching his opportunity while
Glumdalclitch was gone to the sideboard, mounted
the stool that she stood on to take care of me at
meals, took me up in both hands, and squeezing my
legs together, wedged them into the marrow-boue
above my waist, where I stuck for some time, and
made a very ridiculous figure. I believe it was near
a minute before any one knew what was become of
But as
me; for I thought it below me to cry out.
princes seldom get their meat hot, my legs were not
scalded, only my stockings and breeches in a sad
condition. The dwarf, at my entreaty, had no other
punishment than a sound whipping.
I was frequently rallied by the queen upon account
of my fearfulness; and she used to ask me whether
the people of my country were as great cowards as
myself? The occasion was this: the kingdom is
much pestered with flies in summer; and these
odious insects, each of them as big as a Dunstable
lark, hardly gave me any rest while I sat at dinner,
with their continual humming and buzzing about
mine ears. They would sometimes alight upon my vic-
tuals, and leave their loathsome excrement or spawn
behind, which to me was very visible, though not
to the natives of that country, whose large optics
were not so acute as mine in viewing smaller ob-
jects. Sometimes they would fix upon my nose or
forehead, where they stung me to the quick, smell-
ing very offensively; and I could easily trace that
viscous matter, which, our naturalists tell us, enables
those creatures to walk with their feet upwards upon
a ceiling. I had much ado to defend myself against
these detestable animals, and could not forbear
starting when they came on my face. It was the
common practice of the dwarf to catch a number of
those insects in his hand, as schoolboys do among
us, and let them out suddenly under my nose, on
purpose to frighten me and divert the queen. My
remedy was to cut them in pieces with my knife, as
they flew in the air, wherein my dexterity was much
admired.
I remember, one morning, when Glumdalclitch
had set me in a box upon a window, as she usually
did in fair days to give me air (for I durst not ven-
ture to let the box be hung on a nail out of the win-
dow, as we do with cages in England), after I had
lifted up one of my sashes, and sat down at my table
to eat a piece of sweet cake for my breakfast, above
twenty wasps, allured by the smell, came flying into
the room, humming louder than the drones of as
many bagpipes. Some of them seized my cake, and
carried it piecemeal away: others flew about my
head and face, confounding me with the noise, and
putting me in the utmost terror of their stings.
However, I had the courage to rise and draw my
hanger, and attack them in the air. I despatched
four of them, but the rest got away, and I presently
shut my window. These insects were as large as
partridges; I took out their stings, found them an
inch and a half long, and as sharp as needles.
carefully preserved them all; and having since shown
them, with some other curiosities, in several parts of
Europe, upon my return to England I gave three of
them to Gresham College, and kept the fourth for
myself.
CHAPTER IV.
I
not above two thousand miles round Lorbrulgrud
the metropolis, for the queen, whom I always at-
tended, never went further when she accompanied
the king in his progresses, and there stayed till his
majesty returned from viewing his frontiers. The
whole extent of this prince's dominions reaches abcut
six thousand miles in length, and from three to five
in breadth whence I cannot but conclude that our
geographers of Europe are in a great error, by sup-
posing nothing but sea between Japan and Califor-
nia; for it was ever my opinion that there must be
a balance of earth to counterpoise the great conti-
nent of Tartary; and, therefore, they ought to cor-
rect their maps and charts, by joining this vast tract
of land to the north-west parts of America, wherein
I shall be ready to lend them my assistance.
On
The kingdom is a peninsula terminated to the
north-east by a ridge of mountains thirty miles high,
which are altogether impassable, by reason of the
volcanoes upon the tops: neither do the most learned
know what sort of mortals inhabit beyond those
mountains, or whether they be inhabited at all.
the three other sides it is bounded by the ocean.
There is not one seaport in the whole kingdom: and
those parts of the coasts into which the rivers issue
are so full of pointed rocks, and the sea generally so
rough, that there is no venturing with the smallest
of their boats; so that these people are wholly ex-
cluded from any commerce with the rest of the world.
But the large rivers are full of vessels, and abound
with excellent fish; for they seldom get any from
the sea, because the sea-fish are of the same size
with those in Europe, and consequently not worth
catching; whereby it is manifest that nature, in the
production of plants and animals of so extraordinary
a bulk, is wholly confined to this continent, of which
I leave the reasons to be determined by philosophers.
However, now and then they take a whale that hap-
pens to be dashed against the rocks, which the com-
mon people feed on heartily. These whales I have
known so large, that a man could hardly carry one
upon his shoulders; and sometimes, for curiosity,
they are brought in hampers to Lorbrulgrud: I saw
one of them in a dish at the king's table, which
passed for a rarity, but I did not observe he was
fond of it; for I think, indeed, the bigness disgusted
him, although I have seen one somewhat larger in
Greenland.
The country is well inhabited, for it contains fifty-
one cities, near a hundred walled towns, and a great
number of villages.
number of villages. To satisfy my curious reader,
it
may be sufficient to describe Lorbrulgrud. This
city stands upon almost two equal parts, on each
side the river that passes through. It contains above
eighty thousand houses, and about six hundred
thousand inhabitants. It is in length three glom-
glungs (which make about fifty-four English miles),
and two and a half in breadth; as I measured it
myself in the royal map, made by the king's order,
which was laid on the ground on purpose for me,
and extended a hundred feet: I paced the diameter
and circumference several times barefoot, and, com-
puting by the scale, measured it pretty exactly.
The king's palace is no regular edifice, but a heap
of building, about seven miles round: the chief rooms
are generally two hundred and forty feet high, and
broad and long in proportion. A coach was allowed
to Glumdalelitch and me, wherein her governess
frequently took her out to see the town, or go among
the shops; and I was always of the party, carried in
my box: although the girl, at my own desire, would
often take me out, and hold me in her hand that
I Now intend to give the reader a short description | I might more conveniently view the houses and the
of this country, as far as I travelled in it, which was ) people as we passed along the streets. I reckoned
The country described. A proposal for correcting modern maps.
The king's palace, and some account of the métropolis. The
author's way of travelling. The chief temple described.
30
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
our coach to be about a square of Westminster-hall, I
but not altogether so high; however, I cannot be
very exact. One day the governess ordered our
coachman to stop at several shops, where the beggars,
watching their opportunity, crowded to the sides of
the coach, and gave me the most horrible spectacles
that ever a European eye beheld. There was a
woman with a cancer in her breast, swelled to a
monstrous size, full of holes, in two or three of which
I could have easily crept and covered my whole
body. There was a fellow with a wen in his neck
larger than five woolpacks; and another with a
couple of wooden legs, each about twenty feet high.
But the most hateful sight of all was the lice crawl-
ing on their clothes. I could see distinctly the limbs
of these vermin with my naked eye much better than
those of an European louse through a microscope,
and their snouts, with which they routed like swine.
They were the first I had ever beheld, and I should
have been curious enough to dissect one of them, if
I had had proper instruments, which I unluckily left
behind me in the ship, although, indeed, the sight
was so nauseous that it perfectly turned my stomach.
Besides the large box in which I was usually car-
ried, the queen ordered a smaller one to be made for
me, of about twelve feet square and ten high, for the
convenience of travelling, because the other was
somewhat too large for Glumdalclitch's lap, and cum-
bersome in the coach; it was made by the same
artist, whom I directed in the whole contrivance.
This travelling-closet was an exact square, with a
window in the middle of three of the squares, and
each window was latticed with iron wire on the out-
side, to prevent accidents in long journeys. On the
fourth side, which had no window, two strong
staples were fixed, through which the person that
carried me, when I had a mind to be on horse-
back, put a leathern belt and buckled it about his
waist. This was always the office of some grave
trusty servant in whom I could confide, whether I
attended the king and queen in their progresses, or
were disposed to see the gardens, or pay a visit to
some great lady or minister of state in the court,
when Glumdalclitch happened to be out of order,
for I soon began to be known and esteemed among
the greatest officers; I suppose more upon account
of their majesties' favour than any merit of my
own. In journeys when I was weary of the coach
a servant on horseback would buckle on my box
and place it upon a cushion before him, and there
I had a full prospect of the country on three sides.
from my three windows. I had in this closet a
field-bed and a hammock hung from the ceiling,
two chairs and a table neatly screwed to the floor
to prevent being tossed about by the agitation of
the horse or the coach; and having been long used
to sea-voyages, those motions, although sometimes
very violent, did not much discompose me.
Whenever I had a mind to see the town, it was
always in my travelling closet; which Glumdalelitch
held in her lap in a kind of open sedan, after the
fashion of the country, borne by four men and at-
tended by two others in the queen's livery. The
people, who had often heard of me, were very
curious to crowd about the sedan, and the girl was
complaisant enough to make the bearers stop and
to take me in her hand that I might be more conve-
niently seen.
I was very desirous to see the chief temple, and
particularly the tower belonging to it, which is
reckoned the highest in the kingdom. Accordingly
one day my nurse carried me thither, but I may
truly say I came back disappointed; for the height
is not above three thousand feet, reckoning from the
ground to the highest pinnacle top; which, allowing
for the difference between the size of those people
and us in Europe, is no great matter for admiration,
nor at all equal in proportion (if I rightly remember)
to Salisbury steeple. But not to detract from a
nation to which during my life I shall acknowledge
myself extremely obliged, it must be allowed that,
whatever this famous tower wants in height, it is
amply made up in beauty and strength. For the
walls are near a hundred fect thick, built of hewn
stone, whereof each is about forty feet square and
adorned on all sides with statues of gods and empe-
rors cut in marble, larger than the life, placed in
their several niches; I measured a little finger which
had fallen down from one of these statues, and lay
unperceived among some rubbish, and found it ex-
actly four feet and an inch in length. Glumdalclitch
wrapped it up in her handkerchief, and carried it
home in her pocket, to keep among other trinkets,
of which the girl was very fond, as children at her
age usually are.
The king's kitchen is indeed a noble building,
vaulted at top, and about six hundred feet high.
The great oven is not so wide, by ten paces, as the
cupola at St. Paul's; for I measured the latter on
But if I should describe
purpose after my return.
the kitchen-grate, the prodigious pots and kettles,
the joints of meat turning on the spits, with many
other particulars, perhaps I should be hardly be-
lieved; at least a severe critic would be apt to think
I enlarged a little, as travellers are often suspected
to do. To avoid which censure, I fear I have run
too much into the other extreme; and that, if this
treatise should happen to be translated into the lan-
guage of Brobdingnag (which is the general name
of that kingdom), and transmitted thither, the king
and his people would have reason to complain that
I had done them an injury by a false and diminutive
representation.
His majesty seldom keeps above six hundred
horses in his stables: they are generally from fifty-
four to sixty feet high. But when he
But when he goes abroad
on solemn days he is attended for state by a militia
guard of five hundred horse, which indeed I thought
was the most splendid sight that could be ever be-
held, till I saw part of his army in battalia, whereof
I shall find another occasion to speak.
if
CHAPTER V.
Several adventures that happened to the author. The execu
tion of a criminal. The author shows his skill in navigation.
I SHOULD have lived happy enough in that country
my littleness had not exposed me to several ridicu-
lous and troublesome accidents; some of which I
shall venture to relate. Glumdalclitch often carried
me into the gardens of the court in my smaller box,
and would sometimes take me out of it, and hold me
in her hand, or set me down to walk. I remember,
before the dwarf left the queen, he followed us one
day into those gardens, and my nurse having set me
down, he and I being close together near some dwarf
apple-trees, I must need show my wit by a silly allu-
sion between him and the trees, which happens to
hold in their language as it does in ours.
upon the malicious rogue, watching his opportunity
when I was walking under one of them, shook it
directly over my head, by which a dozen apples,
each of them near as large as a Bristol barrel, came
tumbling about my cars; one of them hit me on the
back as I chanced to stoop, and knocked me down
flat on my face: but I received no other hurt, and
the dwarf was pardoned at my desire because I had
given the provocation.
Where-
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
91
Another day Glumdalclitch left me on a smooth
grass plot to divert myself, while she walked at some
distance with her governess. In the mean time,
there suddenly fell such a violent shower of hail,
that I was immediately by the force of it struck to
the ground; and when I was down the hailstones
gave me such cruel bangs all over the body, as if I
had been pelted with tennis-balls: however, I made
a shift to creep on all four and shelter myself by
lying flat on my face, on the lee-side of a border of
lemon-thyme, but so bruised from head to foot
that I could not go abroad in ten days. Neither is
this at all to be wondered at, because, nature in that
country observing the same proportion through all
her operations, a hailstone is near eighteen hundred
times as large as one in Europe; which I can assert
upon experience, having been so curious to weigh
and measure them.
But a more dangerous accident happened to me in
the same garden, when my little nurse, believing she
had put me in a secure place (which I often en-
treated her to do, that I might enjoy my own
thoughts), and having left my box at home to avoid
the trouble of carrying it, went to another part of
the garden with her governess and some ladies of
her acquaintance. While she was absent and out
of hearing, a small white spaniel belonging to one of
the chief gardeners, having got by accident into the
garden, happened to range near the place where I
lay the dog followed the scent, came directly up,
and taking me in his mouth ran straight to his mas-
ter wagging his tail, and set me gently on the
ground. By good fortune he had been so well
taught, that I was carried between his teeth without
the least hurt, or even tearing my clothes. But the
poor gardener, who knew me well, and had a great
kindness for me, was in a terrible fright: he gently
took me up in both his hands and asked me how I
did? but I was so amazed and out of breath that I
could not speak a word. In a few minutes I came
to myself, and he carried me safe to my little nurse,
who by this time had returned to the place where
she left me, and was in cruel agonies when I did not
appear, nor answer when she called. She severely
reprimanded the gardener on account of his dog.
But the thing was hushed up and never known at
court, for the girl was afraid of the queen's anger;
and truly, as to myself, I thought it would not
be for my reputation that such a story should go
about.
This accident absolutely determined Glumdal-
clitch never to trust me abroad for the future out of
her sight. I had been long afraid of this resolution,
and therefore concealed from her some little unlucky
adventures that happened in those times when I
was left by myself. Once a kite hovering over the
garden made a stoop at me, and if I had not resolutely
drawn my hanger and run under a thick espalier, he
would have certainly carried me away in his talons.
Another time, walking to the top of a fresh mole-
hill, I fell to my neck in the hole through which
that animal had east up the earth, and coined some
lie not worth remembering to excuse myself for
spoiling my clothes. I likewise broke my right
shin against the shell of a snail which I happened
to stumble over, as I was walking alone and think-
ing on poor England.
I cannot tell whether I were more pleased or
mortified to observe in those solitary walks that the
smaller birds did not appear to be at all afraid of
me, but would hop about within a yard's distance,
looking for worms and other food with as much in-
difference and security as if no creature at all were
near them. I remember a thrush had the confi-
dence to snatch out of my hand with his bill a
piece of cake that Glumdalclitch had just given me
for my breakfast. When I attempted to catch any
of these birds they would boldly turn against me,
endeavouring to peck my fingers, which I durst not
venture within their reach; and then they would
hop back unconcerned to hunt for worms or snails,
as they did before. But one day I took a thick
cudgel, and threw it with all my strength so luckily
at a linnet, that I knocked him down, and seizing
him by the neck with both my hands, ran with him
in triumph to my nurse. However, the bird, who
had only been stunned, recovering himself, gave me
so many boxes with his wings on both sides of my
head and body, though I held him at arm's length,
and was out of the reach of his claws, that I was
But I was
twenty times thinking to let him go.
soon relieved by one of our servants, who wrung off
the bird's neck, and I had him next day for dinner
This linnet, as near as I
by the queen's command.
can remember, seemed to be somewhat larger than
an English swan.
The maids of honour often invited Glumdalclitch
to their apartments, and desired she would bring mɩ
along with her, on purpose to have the pleasure of
seeing and touching me. They would often strip
me naked from top to toe, and lay me at full length
in their bosoms, wherewith I was much disgusted,
because, to say the truth, a very offensive smell
came from their skins, which I do not mention or
intend to the disadvantage of those excellent ladies,
for whom I have all manner of respect; but I con-
ceive that my sense was more acute in proportion
to my littleness, and that those illustrious persons
were no more disagreeable to their lovers, or to each
other, than people of the same quality are with us in
England. And after all, I found their natural smell
was much more supportable than when they used
perfumes, under which I immediately swooned
away. I cannot forget that an intimate friend of
mine in Lilliput took the freedom in a warm day,
when I had used a good deal of exercise, to com-
plain of a strong smell about me, although I am as
little faulty that way as most of my sex; but I sup-
pose his faculty of smelling was as nice with regard
to me as mine was to that of this people. Upon
this point I cannot forbear doing justice to the
queen my mistress, and Glumdalelitch my nurse,
whose persons were as sweet as those of any lady in
England.
That which gave me most uneasiness among these
maids of honour (when my nurse carried me to visit
them was, to see them use me without any manner
of ceremony, like a creature who had no sort of
consequence, for they would strip themselves to the
skin and put on their smocks in my presence, while
I was placed on their toilet directly before their
naked bodies, which I am sure to me was very far
from being a tempting sight, or from giving me any
other emotions than those of horror and disgust;
their skins appeared so coarse and uneven, so va-
riously coloured when I saw them near, with a
mole here and there as broad as a trencher, and
hairs hanging from it thicker than packthreads, to
say nothing further concerning the rest of their per-
sons. Neither did they at all scruple, while I was
by, to discharge what they had drank, to the quan-
tity of at least two hogsheads, in a vessel that held
above three tuns. The handsomest among these
maids of honour, a pleasant frolicsome girl of six-
teen, would sometimes set me astride upon one of
her nipples, with many other tricks wherein the
reader will excuse me for not being over particular.
But I was so much displeased, that I entreated
82
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
Glumdalclitch to contrive some excuse for not seeing
that young lady any more.
One day a young gentleman, who was nephew to
my nurse's governess, came and pressed them both
to see an execution. It was of a man who had
murdered one of that gentleman's intimate acquaint-
ance. Glumdalclitch was prevailed on to be of the
company, very much against her inclination, for she
was naturally tender-hearted: and as for myself,
although I abhorred such kind of spectacles, yet my
curiosity tempted me to see something that I thought
must be extraordinary. The malefactor was fixed
on a chair upon a scaffold erected for that purpose,
and his head cut off at one blow, with a sword of
about forty feet long. The veins and arteries
spouted up such a prodigious quantity of blood, and
so high in the air, that the great jet-d'cau at Ver-
sailles was not equal for the time it lasted; and the
head, when it fell on the scaffold floor, gave such a
bounce as made me start, although I were at least
half an English mile distant.
The queen, who often used to hear me talk of my
sea-voyages, and took all occasions to divert me
when I was melancholy, asked me whether I un-
derstood how to handle a sail or an oar, and whe-
ther a little exercise of rowing might not be conve-
nient for my health? I answered that I understood
both very well; for although my proper employment
had been to be surgeon or doctor to the ship, yet
often, upon a pinch, I was forced to work like a
common mariner. But I could not see how this
could be done in their country, where the smallest
wherry was equal to a first-rate man-of-war among
us; and such a boat as I could manage would never
live in any of their rivers. Her majesty said, "If
I would contrive a boat her own joiner should make
it, and she would provide a place for me to sail in."
The fellow was an ingenious workman, and by my
instructions, in ten days, finished a pleasure-boat,
with all its tackling, able conveniently to hold eight
Europeans. When it was finished, the queen was
so delighted that she ran with it in her lap to the
king, who ordered it to be put into a cistern full of
water, with me in it, by way of trial, where I could
not manage my two sculls, or little oars, for want
of room.
gentlewoman's stomacher; the head of the pin
passed between my shirt and the waistband of my
breeches, and thus I was held by the middle in the
air till Glumdalclitch ran to my relief.
Another time one of the servants, whose office it
was to fill my trough every third day with fresh
water, was so careless as to let a huge frog (not
perceiving it) slip out of his pail. The frog lay
concealed till I was put into my boat, but then,
seeing a resting-place, climbed up, and made it lean
so much on one side that I was forced to balance it
with all my weight on the other, to prevent over-
turning. When the frog was got in it hopped at
once half the length of the boat, and then over my
head, backward and forward, daubing my face and
clothes with its odious slime. The largeness of its
features made it appear the most deformed animal
that can be conceived. However, I desired Glum-
dalclitch to let me deal with it alone. I banged it
a good while with one of my sculls, and at last
forced it to leap out of the boat.
But the greatest danger I ever underwent in
that kingdom was from a monkey, who belonged to
one of the clerks of the kitchen. Glumdalclitch
had locked me up in her closet while she went
The weather
somewhere upon business or a visit.
:
being very warm, the closet-window was left open,
as well as the windows and the door of my bigger
box, in which I usually lived, because of its large-
ness and conveniency. As I sat quietly meditating
at my table I heard something bounce in at the
closet-window, and skip about from one side to the
other whereat, although I was much alarmed, yet
I ventured to look out, but not stirring from my
seat; and then I saw this frolicsome animal frisking
and leaping up and down, till at last he came to my
box, which he seemed to view with great pleasure
and curiosity, peeping in at the door and every
window. I retreated to the father corner of my
room or box; but the monkey, looking in at every
side, put me into such a fright that I wanted pre-
sence of mind to conceal myself under the bed, as I
might easily have done. After some time spent in
peeping, grinning, and chattering, he at last espied
me; and reaching one of his paws in at the door as
a cat does when she plays with a mouse, although I
often shifted place to avoid him, he at length seized
the lappet of my coat (which being made of that
country silk was very thick and strong), and dragged
me out. He took me up in his right fore-foot, and
held me as a nurse does a child she is going to
suckle, just as I have seen the same sort of creature
do with a kitten in Europe; and when I offered to
struggle he squeezed me so hard that I thought it
I have good reason to
more prudent to submit.
believe that he took me for a young one of his own
species, by his often stroking my face very gently
with his other paw.
In these diversions he was
interrupted by a noise at the closet-door, as if some-
body were opening it; whereupon he suddenly
leaped up to the window at which he had come iù,
and thence upon the leads and gutters, walking
upon three legs, and holding me in the fourth ull
he clambered up to a roof that was next to ours. I
heard Glumdalelitch give a shriek at the moment he
In this exercise I once met an accident which
was carrying me out. The poor girl was almost
had like to have cost me my life; for, one of the distracted; that quarter of the palace was all in an
the servants ran for ladders; the monkey
uproar;
pages having put my boat into the trough, the go-
verness who attended Glumdalclitch very officiously was seen by hundreds in the court, sitting upon the
lifted me up to place me in the boat; but I hap-ridge of a building, holding me like a baby in one
pened to slip through her fingers, and should infal-
libly have fallen down forty feet upon the floor, if,
by the luckiest chance in the world, I had not been
stopped by a corking-pin that stuck in the good
But the queen had before contrived an-
other project. She ordered the joiner to make a
wooden trough of three hundred feet long, fifty
broad, and eight deep, which, being well pitched to
prevent leaking, was placed on the floor, along the
wall, in an outer room of the palace. It had a cock
near the bottom to let out the water when it began
to grow stale; and two servants could easily fill it
in half an hour. Here I often used to row for my
own diversion, as well as that of the queen and her
ladies, who thought themselves well entertained
with my skill and agility. Sometimes I would put
up my sail, and then my business was only to steer,
while the ladies gave me a gale with their fans;
and, when they were weary, some of their pages
would blow my sail forward with their breath, while
I showed my art by steering starboard or larboard
as I pleased. When I had done, Glumdalclitch
always carried back my boat into her closet, and
hung it on a nail to dry.
of his fore-paws, and feeding me with the other, by
cramming into my mouth some victuals he had
squeezed out of the bag on one side of his chaps,
and patting me when I would not eat; whereat
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
32
many of the rabble below could not forbear laugh-
ing; neither do I think they justly ought to be
blamed, for without question the sight we ridicu-
lous enough to everybody but myself. Some of the
people threw up stones, hoping to drive the monkey
down; but this was strictly forbidden, or else, very
probably, my brains had been dashed out.
The ladders were now applied, and mounted by
several men; which the monkey observing, and
finding himself almost encompassed, not being able
to make speed enough with his three legs, let me
drop on a ridge tile, and made his escape. Here I
sat for some time, five hundred yards from the
ground, expecting every moment to be blown down
by the wind, or to fall by my own giddiness, and
come tumbling over and over from the ridge to the
eaves; but an honest lad, one of my nurse's foot-
men, climbed up, and, putting me into his breeches-
pocket, brought me down safe.
I was almost choked with the filthy stuff the
monkey had crammed down my throat; but my
dear little nurse picked it out of my mouth with a
small needle, and then I fell a-vomiting, which gave
me great relief. Yet I was so weak and bruised in
the sides with the squeezes given me by this odious
animal, that I was forced to keep my bed a fortnight.
The king, queen, and all the court, sent every day
to enquire after my health; and her majesty made
me several visits during my sickness. The monkey
was killed, and an order made that no such animal
should be kept about the palace.
When I attended the king after my recovery, to
return him thanks for his favours, he was pleased to
rally me a good deal upon this adventure. He
asked me,
"what my thoughts and speculations
were while I lay in the monkey's paw; how I liked
the victuals he gave me; his manner of feeding;
and whether the fresh air on the roof had sharpened
my stomach ?”
He desired to know "what I would
have done upon such an occasion in my own coun-
I told his majesty, "that in Europe we had
try?",
no monkeys except such as were brought for curio-
sities from other places, and so small that I could
deal with a dozen of them together if they presumed
to attack me. And as for that monstrous animal
with whom I was so lately engaged (it was indeed
as large as an elephant), if my fears had suffered
me to think so far as to make use of my hanger
(looking fiercely, and clapping my hand upon the
hilt as I spoke), when he poked his paw into my
chamber, perhaps I should have given him such a
wound as would have made him glad to withdraw it
with more haste than he put it in." This I delivered
in a firm tone, like a person who was jealous lest his
courage should be called in question. However,
my speech produced nothing else beside a loud
laughter, which all the respect due to his majesty
from those about him could not make them contain.
This made me reflect how vain an attempt it is for
a man to endeavour to do himself honour among
those who are out of all degree of equality or com-
parison with him. And yet I have seen the moral
of my own behaviour very frequent in England
since my return; where a little contemptible varlet,
without the least title to birth, person, wit, or com-
mon sense, shall presume to look with importance,
and put himself upon a foot with the greatest per-
sons of the kingdom.
I was every day furnishing the court with some
ridiculous story; and Glumdalelitch, although she
loved me to excess, yet was arch enough to inform
the queen whenever I committed any folly that she
thought would be diverting to her majesty. The
girl, who had been out of order, was carried by her
VOL. I.
|
governess to take the air about an hour's distancə,
or thirty miles from town. They alighted out of
the coach near a small footpath in a field, aud
Gludalelitch, setting down my travelling box, I
went out of it to walk. There was a cowdung in
the path, and I must need try my activity by at-
tempting to leap over it. I took a run, but unfor-
tunately jumped short, and found myself just in the
middle, up to my knees. I waded through with
some difficulty, and one of the footmen wiped me
as clean as he could with his handkerchief, for I
was filthily bemired; and my nurse confined me to
my box till we returned home, where the queen
was soon informed of what had passed, and the
footmen spread it about the court, so that all the
mirth for some days was at my expense.
CHAPTER VI.
Several contrivances of the author to please the king and
queen. He shows his skill in music. The king inquires
into the state of England, which the author relates to him.
The king's observations thereon.
I USED to attend the king's levee once or twice
a-week, and had often seen him under the barber's
hand, which, indeed, was at first very terrible to
behold; for the razor was almost twice as long as
an ordinary scythe. His majesty, according to the
custom of the country, was only shaved twice
a-week. I once prevailed on the barber to give me
some of the suds or lather, out of which I picked
forty or fifty of the strongest stumps of hair. I then
took a piece of fine wood, and cut it like the back
of a comb, making several holes in it, at equal dis-
tances, with as small a needle as I could get from
Glumdalclitch. I fixed in the stumps so artificially,
scraping and sloping them with my knife toward
which
the points, that I made a very tolerable comb,
was a seasonable supply, my own being so much
broken in the teeth that it was almost useless; nei-
ther did I know any artist in that country so nice
and exact as would undertake to make me another.
And this puts me in mind of an amusement
wherein I spent many of my leisure hours. I de-
sired the queen's woman to save for me the comb-
ings of her majesty's hair, whereof in time I got a
good quantity; and consulting with my friend the
cabinet-maker, who had received general orders to
do little jobs for me, I directed him to make two
chair-frames, no larger than those I had in my box,
and to bore little holes with a fine awl round those
parts where I designed the backs and seats; through
these holes I wove the strongest hairs I could pick
out, just after the manner of cane chairs in Eng-
land. When they were finished I made a present
of them to her majesty, who kept them in her ca-
binet, and used to show them for curiosities, as in-
deed they were the wonder of every one that beheld
them. The queen would have me sit upon one of
these chairs, but I absolutely refused to obey her,
protesting I would rather die a thousand deaths
than place a dishonourable part of my body on
those precious hairs that once adorned her majesty's
head. Of these hairs (as I had always a mechanical
genius) I likewise made a neat little purse, about
five feet long, with her majesty's name deciphered
in gold letters, which I gave to Glumdalelitch by
the queen's consent. To say the truth, it was more
for show than use, being not of strength to bear the
weight of the larger coins, and therefore she kept no-
thing in it but some little toys that girls are fond of.
The king, who delighted in music, had frequent
concerts at court, to which I was sometimes carried,
and set in my box on a table to hear them: but the
noise was so great that I could hardly distinguish
n
34
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
reign, besides our plantations in America. I dwelt
long upon the fertility of our soil, and the tempera.
ture of our climate. I then spoke at large upon the
constitution of an English parliament; partly made
up of an illustrious body, called the House of Peers
the tunes. I am confident that all the drums and
trumpets of a royal army, beating and sounding to-
gether just at your ears, could not equal it. My prac-
tice was to have my box removed from the place where
the performers sat, as far as I could, then to shut the
doors and windows of it, and draw the window-cur-persons of the noblest blood, and of the most
tains; after which I found their music not disagreeable.
ancient and ample patrimonies. I described that
extraordinary care always taken of their education
in arts and arms, to qualify them for being coun-
sellors both to the king and kingdom; to have a
share in the legislature; to be members of the highest
court of judicature, whence there can be no ap-
peal; and to be champions always ready for the de-
I had learned in my youth to play a little upon
the spinet. Glumdalclitch kept one in her cham-
ber, and a master attended twice a-week to teach
her: I called it a spinet, because it somewhat re-
sembled that instrument, and was played upon in
the same manner. A fancy came into my head that
I would entertain the king and queen with an Eng-fence of their prince and country, by their valour,
lish tune upon this instrument. But this appeared
extremely difficult: for the spinet was nearly sixty
feet long, each key being almost a foot wide, so that
with my arms extended I could not reach to above
five keys, and to press them down required a good
smart stroke with my fist, which would be too great
a labour and to no purpose. The method I con-
trived was this: I prepared two round sticks about
the bigness of common cudgels; they were thicker at
one end than the other, and I covered the thicker
ends with pieces of a mouse's skin, that by rapping
on them I might neither damage the tops of the keys
nor interrupt the sound. Before the spinet a bench
was placed, about four feet below the keys, and I
was put upon the bench. I ran sideling upon it,
that way and this, as fast as I could, banging the
proper keys with my two sticks, and made a shift to
play a jig to the great satisfaction of both their ma-
jesties, but it was the most violent exercise I ever
underwent and yet I could not strike above sixteen
keys, nor consequently play the bass and treble toge-
ther as other artists do; which was a great disadvan-
tage to my performance.
The king, who as I before observed, was a prince of
excellent understanding, would frequently order that
I should be brought in my box, and set upon the table
in his closet: he would then command me to bring
one of my chairs out of the box, and sit down
within three yards distance upon the top of the
cabinet, which brought me almost to a level with
his face. In this manner I had several conversa-
tions with him. J one day took the freedom to tell
his majesty "that the contempt he discovered to-
wards Europe, and the rest of the world, did not
seem answerable to those excellent qualities of mind
that he was master of: that reason did not extend
itself with the bulk of the body; on the contrary,
we observed in our country that the tallest persons
were usually the least provided with it; that among
other animals, bees and ants had the reputation of
more industry, art, and sagacity, than many of the
larger kinds; and that, as inconsiderable as he took
me to be, I hoped I might live to do his majesty
some signal service." The king heard me with atten-
tion, and began to conceive a much better opinion
of me than he had ever before. He desired "I
would give him as exact un account of the government
of England as I possibly could; because, as foud as
princes commonly are of their own customs, (for
so he conjectured of other monarchs by my former
discourses,) he should be glad to hear of anything
that might deserve imitation."
Imagine with thyself, courteous reader, how often
I then wished for the tongue of Demosthenes or
Cicero, that might have enabled me to celebrate the
praise of my own dear native country, in a style
equal to its merits and felicity.
I began my discourse by informing his majesty
that our dominions consisted of two islands, which
composed three mighty kingdoms, under one sove-
conduct, and fidelity. That these were the orna-
ment and bulwark of the kingdom, worthy followers
of their most renowned ancestors, whose honour
had been the reward of their virtue, from which
their posterity were never once known to dege-
nerate. To these were joined several holy persons,
as part of that assembly, under the title of bishops;
whose peculiar business it is to take care of reli-
gion, and of those who instruct the people therein.
These were searched and sought out through the
whole nation, by the prince and his wisest coun-
sellors, among such of the priesthood as were most
deservedly distinguished by the sanctity of their
lives, and the depth of their erudition; who were in-
deed the spiritual fathers of the clergy and the people.
That the other part of the parliament consisted of
an assembly, called the House of Commons, who
were all principal gentlemen. freely picked aud
culled out by the people themselves, for their great
abilities and love of their country, to represent the
wisdom of the whole nation. And that these two
bodies made up the most august assembly in Eu-
rope; to whom, in conjunction with the prince, the
whole legislature is committed.
I then descended to the courts of justice; over
which the judges, those venerable sages and inter-
preters of the law, presided, for determining the dis-
puted rights and properties of men, as well as for
the punishment of vice and protection of innocence.
I mentioned the prudent management of our trea-
sury; the valour and achievements of our forces by
sea and land. I computed the number of our
people, by reckoning how many millions there might
be of each religious sect or political party among
I did not omit even our sports and pastimes,
or any other particular which I thought might
redound to the honour of my country. And I
finished all with a brief historical account of affairs
and events in England for about a hundred years
past.
us.
This conversation was not ended under five
audiences, each of several hours; and the king
heard the whole with great attention, frequently
taking notes of what I spoke, as well as memoran-
dums of what questions he intended to ask me.
When I had put an end to these long discourses
his majesty, in a sixth audience, consulting his
notes, proposed many doubts, queries, and objec-
tions upon every article. He asked, "What methods
were used to cultivate the minds and bodies of our
young nobility, and in what kind of business they
commonly spent the first and teachable part of their
lives? What course was taken to supply that as-
sembly, when any noble family became extinct?
What qualifications were necessary in those who
are to be created new lords: whether the humour of
the prince, a sum of money to a court lady, or a
prime minister, or a design of strengthening a party
opposite to the public interest, ever happened to be
motives in those advancements ? What share of
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
35
knowledge these lords had in the laws of their
country, and how they came by it, so as to enable
them to decide the properties of their fellow-sub-
jects in the last resort? Whether they were al-
ways so free from avarice, partialities, or want, that
a bribe, or some other sinister view, could have no
place among them? Whether those holy lords I
spoke of were always promoted to that rank upon
account of their knowledge in religious matters and
the sanctity of their lives; had never been com-
pliers with the times, while they were common
priests; or slavish prostitute chaplains to some noble-
men, whose opinions they continued servilely to
follow, after they were admitted into that assembly?"
He then desired to know, "What arts were prac-
tised in electing those whom I called commoners:
whether a stranger, with a strong purse, might not
influence the vulgar voters to choose him before
their own landlord, or the most considerable gentle-
man in the neighbourhood? How it came to pass,
that people were so violently bent upon getting into
this assembly, which I allowed to be a great trouble
and expense, often to the ruin of their families,
without any salary or pension; because this ap-
peared such an exalted strain of virtue and public
spirit, that his majesty seemed to doubt it might
possibly not be always sincere ?" And he desired
He
to know," Whether such zealous gentlemen could
have any views of refunding themselves for the charges
and trouble they were at, by sacrificing the public
good to the designs of a weak and vicious prince
in conjunction with a corrupted ministry?”
multiplied his questions, and sifted me thoroughly
upon every part of this head, proposing numberles
inquiries and objections, which I think it not pru-
dent or convenient to repeat.
Upon what I said in relation to our courts of jus-
tice, his majesty desired to be satisfied in several
points and this I was the better able to do, having
been formerly almost ruined by a long suit in
Chancery, which was decreed for me with costs.
He asked, "What time was usually spent in deter-
mining between right and wrong, and what degree
of expense? Whether advocates and orators had
liberty to plead in causes manifestly known to be
unjust, vexatious, or oppressive? Whether party,"
in religion or politics, were observed to be of any
weight in the scale of justice? Whether those
pleading orators were persons educated in the gene-
ral knowledge of equity, or only in provincial,
national, and other local customs? Whether they
or their judges had any part in penning those laws,
which they assumed the liberty of interpreting and
glossing upon at their pleasure? Whether they had
ever, at different times, pleaded for and against the
same cause, and cited precedents to prove contrary
opinions? Whether they were a rich or a poor cor-
poration?
Whether they received any pecuniary
reward for pleading or delivering their opinions?
And particularly whether they were ever admitted
as members in the lower senate ?"
He fell next upon the management of our trea-
sury, and said, “He thought my memory had failed
me, because I computed our taxes at about five or
six millions a-year, and when I came to mention
the issues, he found they sometimes amounted to
more than double; for the notes he had taken were
very particular in this point, because he hoped, as
he told me, that the knowledge of our conduct
might be useful to him, and he could not be de-
ceived in his calculations. But, if what I told him
were true he was still at a loss how a kingdom
could run out of its estate, like a private person."
He asked me,
"Who were our creditors, and where
|
we found money to pay them?" He wondered to
hear me talk of such chargeable and expensive wars ;
"That certainly we must be a quarrelsome people,
or live among very bad neighbours, and that our
generals must needs be richer than our kings." He
asked, "What business we had out of our own
islands, unless upon the score of trade or treaty, or
to defend the coasts with our fleet ?" Above all, he
was amazed to hear me talk of a mercenary stand-
ing army, in the midst of peace and among a free
people. He said, "If we were governed by our
own consent, in the persons of our representatives,
he could not imagine of whom we were afraid, or
against whom we were to fight; and would hear my
opinion, whether a private man's house might not
better be defended by himself, his children, and
family, than by half a dozen rascals, picked up at a
venture in the streets for small wages, who might get
a hundred times more by cutting their throats?”
He laughed at my “odd kind of arithmetic," as
he was pleased to call it, "in reckoning the num-
bers of our people by a computation drawn from the
several sects among us in religion and politics."
He said, "He knew no reason why those who enter-
tain opinions prejudicial to the public should be
obliged to change, or should not be obliged to con-
ceal them. And as it was tyranny in any govern
ment to require the first, so it was weakness not to
enforce the second; for a man may be allowed to
keep poisons in his closet, but not to vend them
about for cordials."
He observed, "That among the diversions of our
nobility and gentry I had mentioned gaming: he
desired to know, at what age this entertainment
was usually taken up, and when it was laid down;
how much of their time it employed; whether it ever
went so high as to affect their fortunes; whether
mean, vicious people, by their dexterity in that art,
might not arrive at great riches, and sometimes
keep our very nobles in dependence, as well as
habituate them to vile companions; wholly take
them from the improvement of their minds, and
force them, by the losses they sustained, to learn
and practise that infamous dexterity upon others."
He was perfectly astonished with the historical
account I gave him of our affairs during the last
century; protesting, "It was only a heap of conspi-
racies, rebellions, murders, massacres, revolutions,
banishments, the very worst effects that avarice
faction, hypocrisy, perfidiousness, cruelty, rage,
madness, hatred, envy, lust, malice, and ambition,
could produce."
His majesty, in another audience, was at the pains
to recapitulate the sum of all I had spoken; com-
pared the questions he made with the answers I had
given: then taking me into his hands, and stroking
me gently, delivered himself in these words, which
I shall never forget, nor the manner he spoke them
in: "My little friend Grildrig, you have made a
most admirable panegyric upon your country; you
have clearly proved, that ignorance, idleness, and
vice, are the proper ingredients for qualifying a le-
gislator; that laws are best explained, interpreted,
and applied, by those whose interest and abilities lie
in perverting, confounding, and eluding them. I
observe among you some lines of an institution,
which, in its original, might have been tolerable, but
these half erased, and the rest wholly blurred and
blotted by corruptions. It does not appear, from all
you have said, how any one perfection is required,
toward the procurement of any one station among
you; much less, that men are ennobled on account
of their virtue: that priests are advanced for their
piety or learning: soldiers, for their conduct or
D 2
36
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
valour; judges, for their integrity; senators, for the
love of their country; or counsellors, for their wisdom.
As for yourself," continued the king, "who have spent
the greatest part of your life in travelling, I am well
disposed to hope you may hitherto have escaped many
vices of your country. But by what I have gathered
But by what I have gathered
from your own relation, and the answers I have with
much pains wringed and extorted from you, I cannot
but conclude the bulk of your natives to be the most
pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature
ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.”
CHAPTER VII.
The author's love of his country. He makes a proposal of much
advantage to the king, which is rejected. The king's great
ignorance in politics. The learning of that country very im-
perfect and confined. The laws and military affairs, and
parties in the state.
NOTHING but an extreme love of truth could have
hindered me from concealing this part of my story.
It was in vain to discover my resentments, which
were always turned into ridicule; and I was forced
to rest with patience, while my noble and beloved
country was so injuriously treated. I am as heartily
sorry as any of my readers can possibly be, that such
an occasion was given: but this prince happened to
be so curious and inquisitive upon every particular,
that it could not consist either with gratitude or
good manners, to refuse giving him what satisfaction I
was able. Yet thus much I may be allowed to say in
my own vindication, that I artfully eluded many of
his questions, and gave to every point a more favour-
able turn, by many degrees, than the strictness of
truth would allow; for I have always borne that
audable partiality to my own country, which Dio-
nysius Halicarnassensis, with so much justice, re-
commends to an historian: I would hide the frail-
ties and deformities of my political mother, and place
her virtues and beauties in the most advantageous
light. This was my sincere endeavour, in those
many discourses I had with that monarch, although
it unfortunately failed of success.
But great allowances should be given to a king
who lives wholly secluded from the rest of the world,
and must therefore be altogether unacquainted with
the manners and customs that prevail in other na-
tions: the want of which knowledge will ever pro-
duce many prejudices, and a certain narrowness of
thinking, from which we, and the politer countries of
Europe are wholly exempted. And it would be hard
indeed, if so remote a prince's notions of virtue and
vice were to be offered as a standard for all mankind.
To confirm what I have now said, and further to
show the miserable effects of a confined education, I
shall here insert a passage which will hardly obtain
belief. In hopes to ingratiate myself further into his
majesty's favour, I told him of "an invention, dis-
covered between three and four hundred years ago,
to make a certain powder, into a heap of which
the smallest spark of fire falling would kindle the
whole in a moment, although it were as big as a
mountain, and make it all fly up in the air together,
with a noise and agitation greater than thunder.
That a proper quantity of this powder, rammed into
a hollow tube of brass or iron, according to its big-
ness, would drive a ball of iron or lead with such
violence and speed, as nothing was able to sustain
its force. That the largest balls thus discharged
would not only destroy whole ranks of an army at
once, but batter the strongest walls to the ground,
sink down ships with a thousand men in each, to
the bottom of the sea; and when linked together by
a chain, would cut through masts and rigging, divide
hundreds of bodies in the middle, and lay all waste
before them. That we often put this powder into
large, hollow balls of iron, and discharged them by
an engine into some city we were besieging, which
would rip up
would rip up the pavements, tear the houses to pieces,
burst, and throw splinters on every side, dashing
out the brains of all who came near. That I knew
the ingredients very well, which were cheap and
common; I understood the manner of compounding
them, and could direct his workmen how to make
those tubes, of a size proportionable to all other
things in his majesty's kingdom, and the largest
need not be above a hundred feet long; twenty or
thirty of which tubes, charged with the proper quan-
tity of powder and balls, would batter down the walls
of the strongest town in his dominions in a few hours,
or destroy the whole metropolis, if ever it should
pretend to dispute his absolute commands. This I
humbly offered to his majesty, as a small tribute of
acknowledgment, in return of so many marks that I
had received of his royal favour and protection."
The king was struck with horror at the description
I had given of those terrible engines, and the pro.
posal I had made. "He was amazed, how so impo-
tent and grovelling an insect as I," (these were his
expressions), "could entertain such inhuman ideas,
and in so familiar a manner, as to appear wholly
unmoved at all the scenes of blood and desolation
which I had painted, as the common effects of those
destructive machines; whereof," he said, "some evil
genius, enemy to mankind, must have been the first
contriver. As for himself, he protested, that although
few things delighted him so much as new discoveries
in art or in nature, yet he would rather lose half his
kingdom than be privy to such a secret; which he
commanded me, as I valued my life, never to men-
tion any more.”
A strange effect of narrow principles and views!
that a prince, possessed of every quality which pro-
cures veneration, love, and esteem; of strong parts,
great wisdom, and profound learning, eudued with
admirable talents, and almost adored by his subjects,
should, from a nice, unnecessary scruple, whereof in
Europe, we can have no conception, let slip an op-
portunity put into his hands, that would have made
him absolute master of the lives, the liberties, and
the fortunes of his people! Neither do I say this
with the least intention to detract from the many
virtues of that excellent king, whose character I am
sensible will on this account be very much lessened
in the opinion of an English reader; but I take this
defect among them to have risen from their ignorance,
by not having hitherto reduced politics into a science,
as the more acute wits of Europe have done. For
I remember very well in a discourse one day with
the king when I happened to say, "there were se-
veral thousand books among us written upon the art
of government," it gave him (directly contrary to
my intention) a very mean opinion of our under-
standings. He professed both to abominate and de-
spise all mystery, refinement, and intrigue, either in
a prince or a minister. He could not tell what I
meant by secrets of state, where an enemy, or some
rival nation, were not in the case. He confined the
knowledge of governing within very narrow bounds,
to common sense and reason, to justice and lenity,
to the speedy determination of civil and criminal
causes; with some other obvious topics, which are
not worth considering. And he gave it for his opin-
ion, "That whoever could make two ears of corn, or
two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground
where only one grew before, would deserve better of
mankind, and do more essential service to his country,
than the whole race of politicians put together."
The learning of this people is very defective, con-
sisting only in morality, history, poetry, and mathe-
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
37
But
matics, wherein they must be allowed to excel.
the last of these is wholly applied to what may be
useful in life, to the improvement of agriculture,
and all mechanical arts, so that, among us, it would
be little esteemed. And as to ideas, entities, ab-
stractions, and transcendentals, I could never drive
the least conception into their heads.
No law of that country must exceed in words the
■umber of letters in their alphabet, which consists
only of two-and-twenty. But indeed few of them
extend even to that length. They are expressed in
the most plain and simple terms, wherein those peo-
ple are not mercurial enough to discover above one
interpretation; and to write a comment upon any
law is a capital crime. As to the decision of civil
As to the decision of civil
causes, or proceedings against criminals, their pre-
cedents are so few, that they have little reason to
boast of any extraordinary skill in either.
They have had the art of printing, as well as the
Chinese, time out of mind: but their libraries are
not very large; for that of the king, which is reck-
oned the largest, does not amount to above a thou-
sand volumes, placed in a gallery of twelve hundred
feet long, whence I had liberty to borrow what books
I pleased. The queen's joiner had contrived, in
one of Glumdalclitch's rooms, a kind of wooden
machine, five-and-twenty feet high, formed like a
standing ladder; the steps were each fifty feet long.
It was indeed a moveable pair of stairs, the lowest
end placed at ten feet distance from the wall of the
chamber. The book I had a mind to read was put
up leaning against the wall; I first mounted to the
upper step of the ladder, and turning my face towards
the book, began at the top of the page, and so walk-
ing to the right and left about eight or ten paces,
according to the length of the lines, till I had gotten
a little below the level of mine eyes, and then de-
scending gradually till I came to the bottom; after
which I mounted again, and began the other page
in the same manner, and so turned over the leaf,
which I could easily do with both my hands, for it
was as thick and stiff as pasteboard, and in the largest
folios not above eighteen or twenty feet long.
Their style is clear, masculine, and smooth, but
not florid; for they avoid nothing more than multi-
plying unnecessary words, or using various expres-
sions. I have perused many of their books, especi-
ally those in history and morality. Among the rest
I was much diverted with a little old treatise, which
always lay in Glumdalelitch's bed-chamber, and be-
longed to her governess, a grave elderly gentlewoman,
who dealt in writings of morality and devotion. The
book treats of the weakness of human kind, and is
in little esteem, except among the women and the
vulgar. However, I was curious to see what an
author of that country could say upon such a subject.
This writer went through all the usual topics of
European moralists, showing how diminutive, con-
temptible, and helpless an animal was man in his
own nature; how unable to defend himself from
inclemencies of the air, or the fury of wild beasts:
how much he was excelled by one creature in
strength, by another in speed, by a third in foresight,
by a fourth in industry.' He added that nature
was degenerated in these latter declining ages of the
world, and could now produce only small abortive
births, in comparison of those in ancient times."
He said, "it was very reasonable to think, not
only that the species of men were originally
much larger, but also that there must have been
giants in former ages; which, as it is asserted
by history and tradition, so it has been confirmed
by huge bones and skulls, casually dug up in
several parts of the kingdom, far exceeding the
ill
common dwindled race of men in our days." He
argued, "that the very laws of nature absolutely
required we should have been made, in the begin-
ning, of a size more large and robust; not so liable
to destruction from every little accident, of a tile
falling from a house, or a stone cast from the hand
of a boy, or being drowned in a little brook." From
this way of reasoning, the author drew several moral
applications, useful in the conduct of life, but need-
less here to repeat. For my own part, I could not
avoid reflecting how universally this talent was spread,
of drawing lectures in morality, or indeed rather
matter of discontent and repining, from the quarrels
we raise with nature. And I believe, upon a strict
inquiry, those quarrels might be shown as
grounded among us as they are among that people.*
As to their military affairs, they boast that the
king's army consists of a hundred and seventy-six
thousand foot, and thirty-two thousand horse: if
that may be called an army, which is made up of
tradesmen in the several cities and farmers in the
country, whose commanders are only the nobility
and gentry, without pay or reward. They are in-
deed perfect enough in their exercises and under very
good discipline, wherein I saw no great merit: for
how should it be otherwise, where every farmer is
under the command of his own landlord, and every
citizen under that of the principal men in his own
city, chosen after the manner of Venice, by ballot?
I have often seen the militia of Lorbrulgrud
drawn out to exercise in a great field near the city,
of twenty miles square. They were in all not above
twenty-five thousand foot and six thousand horse;
but it was impossible for me to compute their num-
ber, considering the space of ground they took up.
A cavalier mounted on a large steed might be about
ninety feet high. I have seen this whole body of
horse upon a word of command draw their swords
at once and brandish them in the air. Imagination
can figure nothing so grand, so surprising, and so
astonishing! It looked as if ten thousand flashes of
lightning were darting at the same time from every
quarter of the sky.
I was curious to know how this prince, to whose
dominions there is no access from any other country
came to think of armies, or to teach his people the
practice of military discipline. But I was soon in-
formed, both by conversation and reading their
histories; for in the course of many ages, they have
been troubled with the same disease to which the
whole race of mankind is subject: the nobility often
contending for power, the people for liberty, and the
king for absolute dominion.
king for absolute dominion. All which, however
happily tempered by the laws of that kingdom, have
been sometimes violated by each of the three parties,
and have more than once occasioned civil wars; the
last whereof was happily put an end to by this
prince's grandfather, in a general composition; and
the militia, then settled with common consent, has
been ever since kept in the strictest duty.
CHAPTER VIII.
The king and queen make a progress to the frontiers. The
author atteuds them. The manner in which he leaves the
country very particularly related. He returns to England.
I HAD always a strong impulse that I should some
time recover my liberty, though it was impossible to
conjecture by what means, or to form any project
with the least hope of succeeding. The ship in
which I sailed was the first ever known to be driven
within sight of that coast, and the king had given
strict orders, "that if at any time another appeared,
it should be taken ashore, and with all its crew and
* The author's zeal to justify Providence here is shown.
38
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
passengers brought in a tumbril to Lorbrulgrud.” |
He was strongly bent to get me a woman of my own
size, by whom I might propagate the breed; but I
think I should rather have died than undergone the
disgrace of leaving a posterity to be kept in cages,
like tame canary birds, and perhaps in time, sold
about the kingdom to persons of quality for curiosi-
ties. I was indeed treated with much kindness; I
was the favourite of a great king and queen, and the
delight of the whole court; but it was upon such a
foot as ill became the dignity of humankind. I
could never forget those domestic pledges I had left
behind me. I wanted to be among people with
whom I could converse upon even terms, and walk
about the streets and fields without being afraid of
being trod to death like a frog or a young puppy.
But my deliverance came sooner than I expected,
and in a manner not very common; the whole story
and circumstances of which I shall faithfully relate.
I had now been two years in this country; and
about the beginning of the third, Glumdalelitch and
I attended the king and queen in a progress to the
south coast of the kingdom. I was carried as usual
in my travelling box, which as I have already de-
scribed was a very convenient closet, of twelve feet
wide. And I had ordered a hammock to be fixed,
by silken ropes, from the four corners at the top, to
break the jolts when a servant carried me before
him on horseback, as I sometimes desired; and
would often sleep in my hammock, while we were
upon the road. On the roof of my closet, not
directly over the middle of the hammock, I ordered
the joiner to cut out a hole of a foot square, to give
me air in hot weather, as I slept: which hole I shut
at pleasure with a board that drew backward and
forward through a groove.
I
When we came to our journey's end, the king
thought proper to pass a few days at a palace he has
near Flanflasnic, a city within eighteen English
miles of the sea-side. Glumdalclitch and I were
much fatigued: I had gotten a small cold, but the
poor girl was so ill as to be confined to her chamber.
I longed to see the ocean, which must be the only
scene of my escape, if ever it should happen.
pretended to be worse than I really was, and desired
leave to take the fresh air of the sea, with a page I
was very fond of, and who had been sometimes
trusted with me. I shall never forget with what
unwillingness Glumdalclitch consented, nor the
strict charge she gave the pago to be careful of me,
bursting at the same time into a flood of tears, as if
she had some foreboding of what was to happen.
The boy took me out in my box, about half an hour's
walk from the palace, towards the rocks on the sea-
shore. I ordered him to set me down, and lifting
up one of the sashes, cast many a wistful melancholy
look towards the sea. I found myself not very well,
and told the page that I had a mind to take a nap in
my hammock, which I hoped would do me good. I
got in, and the boy shut the window close down to
keep out the cold. I soon fell asleep, and all I can
conjecture is, that while I slept, the page thinking
no danger could happen, went among the rocks to
look for birds' eggs, having before observed him from
my window searching about and picking up one or
two in the clefts. Be that as it will, I found myself
suddenly awakened with a violent pull upon the ring,
which was fastened at the top of my box for the
conveniency of carriage. I felt my box raised very
high in the air, and then borne forward with pro-
digious speed. The first jolt had like to have shaken
me out of my hammock, but afterwards the motion
was easy enough. I called out several times, as
loud as I could raise my voice, but all to no purpose
I looked towards my windows and could see nothing
but the clouds and sky. I heard a noise just over
my head, like the clapping of wings, and then began
to perceive the woful condition I was in; that some
eagle had got the ring of my box in his beak, with
an intent to let it full on a rock, like a tortoise in
a shell, and then pick out my body and devour it;
for the sagacity and smell of this bird enabled
him to discover his quarry at a great distance,
though better concealed than I could be within a
two-inch board.
In a little time, I observed the noise and flutter
of wings to increase very fast, and my box was toss-
ed up and down like a sign in a windy day. I
heard several bangs or buffets, as I thought given to
the eagle, (for such I am certain it must have been
that held the ring of my box in his beak,) and then,
all on a sudden, felt myself falling perpendicularly
down, for above a minute, but with such incredible
swiftness that I almost lost my breath. My fall was
stopped by a terrible squash that sounded louder to
my cars than the cataract of Niagara ;* after which I
was quite in the dark for another minute, and then
my box began to rise so high, that I could see light
from the tops of the windows. I now perceived I
was fallen into the sea. My box by the weight of
my body, the goods that were in, and the broad
plates of iron fixed for strength at the four corners
of the top and bottom, floated about five feet deep
in water. I did then, and do now suppose, that the
eagle who flew away with my box was pursued by
two or three others, and forced to let me drop,
while he defended himself against the rest, who
hoped to share in the prey. The plates of iron fast-
ened at the bottom of the box (for those were the
strongest) preserved the balance while it fell, and
hindered it from being broken on the surface of the
water. Every joint of it was well grooved; and the
door did not move on hinges, but up and down like
a sash, which kept my closet so tight, that very little
water came in. I got with much difficulty out of
my hammock, having first ventured to draw back
the slip board on the roof already mentioned, con-
trived on purpose to let in air, for want of which I
found myself almost stifled.
A
How often did I then wish myself with my dear
Glumdalclitch, from whom one single hour had so
far divided me! And I may say with truth, that in
the midst of my own misfortunes, I could not for-
bear lamenting my poor nurse, the grief she would
suffer for my loss, the displeasure of the queen, and
the ruin of her fortune.
the ruin of her fortune. Perhaps many travellers
have not been under greater difficulties and dis-
tress than I was at this juncture, expecting every
moment to see my box dashed to pieces, or at least
overset by the first violent blast, or rising wave.
breach in one single pane of glass would have been
immediate death: nor could anything have preserved
the windows, but the strong lattice wires placed on
the outside, against accidents in travelling. I saw
the water ooze in at several crannies, although the
leaks were not considerable, and I endeavoured to
stop them as well as I could. I was not able to lift
up the roof of my closet, which otherwise I certainly
should have done, and sat on the top of it; where I
might at least preserve myself some hours longer,
than by being shut up (as I may call it) in the hold.
Or, if I escaped these dangers for a day or two,
what could I expect but a miserable death of cold
and hunger? I was for four hours under these cir-
cumstances, expecting, and indeed wishing, every
moment to be my last.
The height of which is 1371 feet; and it is said to have besp
heard 45 miles.
!
1
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
39
I have already told the reader that there were two
strong staples fixed upon that side of my box which
had no window, and into which the servant who
used to carry me on horseback would put a leathern
belt, and buckle it about his waist. Being in this
disconsolate state, I heard, or at least thought I
heard, some kind of grating noise on that side of my
box where the staples were fixed; and soon after I
began to fancy that the box was pulled or towed
along the sea; for I now and then felt a sort of
tugging, which made the waves rise near the tops of
my windows, leaving me almost in the dark. This
gave me some faint hopes of relief, although I was
not able to imagine how it could be brought about.
I ventured to unscrew one of my chairs, which were
always fastened to the floor; and having made a
hard shift to screw it down again, directly under the
slipping-board that I had lately opened, I mounted
on the chair, and putting my mouth as near as I
could to the hole, I called for help in a loud voice,
and in all the languages I understood. I then fast-
ened my handkerchief to a stick I usually carried,
and thrusting it up the hole, waved it several times
in the air, that if any boat or ship were near, the
seamen might conjecture some unhappy mortal to
be shut up in the box.
ever.
I found no effect from all I could do, but plainly
perceived my closet to be moved along; and in the
space of an hour, or better, that side of the box
where the staples were, and had no windows, struck
against something that was hard. I apprehended it
to be a rock, and found myself tossed more than
I plainly heard a noise upon the cover of my
closet, like that of a cable, and the grating of it as
it passed through the ring. I then found myself
hoisted up by degrees, at least three feet higher than
I was before. Whereupon I again thrust up my
stick and handkerchief calling for help till I was
almost hoarse. In return to which, I heard a great
shout repeated three times, giving me such trans-
ports of joy as are not to be conceived but by those
who feel them. I now heard a trampling over my
head, and somebody calling through the hole with a
loud voice, in the English tongue, "If there be any
body below, let them speak." I answered, "I was
an Englishman, drawn by ill fortune into the great-
est calamity that ever any creature underwent, and
begged by all that was moving to be delivered out of
the dungeon I was in." The voice replied, "I was
safe, for my box was fastened to their ship; and the
carpenter should immediately come and saw a hole
in the cover, large enough to pull me out."
I an-
swered "that was needless, and would take up too
much time; for there was no more to be done, but
let one of the crew put his finger into the ring, and
take the box out of the sea into the ship, and so into
the captain's cabin." Some of them upon hearing
me talk so wildly, thought I was mad; others laugh-
ed; for indeed it never came into my head that I
was now got among people of my own stature and
strength. The carpenter came, and in a few
minutes sawed a passage about four feet square, then
let down a small ladder, upon which I mounted,
and thence was taken into the ship in a very weak
condition.
The sailors were all in amazement, and asked me
a thousand questions, which I had no inclination to
answer. I was equally confounded at the sight of so
many pigmies, for such I took them to be, after
having so long accustomed mine eyes to the mon-
strous objects I had left. But the captain, Mr.
Thomas Wilcocks, an honest worthy Shropshire man,
observing I was ready to faint, took me into his
cabin, gave me a cordial to comfort me, and made
me turn in upon his own bed, advising me to take a
little rest, of which I had great need. Before 1
went to sleep I gave him to understand that I had
some valuable furniture in my box, too good to be
lost; a fine hammock; a handsome field-bed, two
chairs. a table, and a cabinet. That my closet was
hung on all sides, or rather quilted with silk and
cotton that if he would let one of the crew bring
up my closet into his cabin, I would open it there
before him and show him my goods. The captain
hearing me utter these absurdities, concluded I was
raving: however (I suppose to pacify me) he pro-
mised to give order as I desired, and going upon
deck, sent some of his men down into my closet,
whence (as I afterwards found), they drew up all
my goods, and stripped off the quilting; but the
chairs, cabinet, and bedstead, being screwed to the
floor, were much damaged by the ignorance of the
seamen, who tore them up by force. Then they
knocked off some of the boards for the use of the
ship, and when they got all they had a mind for, let
the hull drop into the sea, which by reason of many
breaches made in the bottom and sides, sunk to
rights. And indeed I was glad not to have been a
spectator of the havock they made, because I am
confident it would have sensibly touched me, by
bringing former passages into my mind, which I
would rather have forgot.
I slept some hours, but perpetually disturbed
with dreams of the place I had left, and the dangers
I had escaped. However, upon waking I found my-
self much recovered. It was now about eight
o'clock at night, and the captain ordered supper
immediately, thinking I had already fasted too long.
He entertained me with great kindness, observing
me not to look wildly, or talk inconsistently; and
when we were left alone, desired I would give him a
relation of my travels, and by what accident I came
to be set adrift in that monstrous wooden chest.
He said, "That about twelve o'clock at noon, as he
was looking through his glass he spied it at a distance,
and thought it was a sail, which he had a mind to
make, being not much out of his course, in hopes of
buying some biscuit, his own beginning to fall short.
That, upon coming nearer, and finding his error, he
sent out his long boat to discover what it was; that
his men came back in a fright, swearing they had
seen a swimming house. That he laughed at their
folly, and went himself in the boat, ordering his meL
to take a strong cable along with them, That the
weather being calm, he rowed round me severa
times, observed my windows, and wire lattices tha
defended them. That he discovered two staples
upon one side, which was all of boards, without any
passage for light. He then commanded his men to
row up to that side, and fastening a cable to one of
the staples, ordered them to tow my chest, as they
called it, towards the ship. When it was there, he
gave directions to fasten another cable to the ring
fixed in the cover, and to raise up my chest with
pulleys, which all the sailors were not able to do
abore two or three feet. He said they saw my
stick and handkerchief thrust out of the hole, and
concluded that some unhappy man must be shut up
in the cavity." I asked, "Whether he or the crew
had seen any prodigious birds in the air, about the
time he first discovered me?" To which he answered,
"That discoursing this matter with the sailors while
I was asleep, one of them said, he had observed
three eagles flying towards the north, but remarked
nothing of their being larger than the usual size;”
which I suppose must be imputed to the great height
they were at; and he could not guess the reason of
my question. I then asked the captain, "How far
he reckoned we might be from land?" He said, "By
the best computation he could make, we were at
40
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
least a hundred leagues." I assured him "That he
must be mistaken by almost half, for I had not left
the country whence I came above two hours before.
I dropped into the sea." Whereupon he began again
to think that my brain was disturbed, of which he
gave me a hint, and advised me to go to bed in a
cabin he had provided. I assured him "I was
well refreshed with his good entertainment and
company, and as much in my senses as ever I was
in my life." He then grew serious, and desired to
ask me freely "Whether I were not troubled in my
mind by the consciousness of some enormous crime,
for which I was punished, at the command of some
prince, by exposing me in that chest; as great cri-
minals in other countries have been forced to sea in
a leaky vessel without provisions: for, although he
should be sorry to have taken so ill a man into his
ship, yet he would engage his word to set me safe
ashore in the first port where we arrived." He
added "that his suspicions were much increased,
by some very absurd speeches I had delivered at first
to his sailors, and afterwards to himself in relation
to my closet or chest, as well as by my odd looks
and behaviour while I was at supper."
their own vanity or interest, or the diversion of ig
norant readers; that my story could contain little
beside common events, without those ornamental
descriptions of strange plants, trees, birds, and other
animals; or, of the barbarous customs and idolatry
of savage people, with which most writers abound.
However, I thanked him for his good opinion, and
promised to take the matter into my thoughts."
He said, "He wondered at one thing very much,
which was, to hear me speak so loud;" asking me,
"Whether the king or queen of that country were
thick of hearing?" I told him, "It was what I had
been used to for above two years past, and that I
admired as much at the voices of him and his men,
who seemed to me only to whisper, and yet I could
hear them well enough. But when I spoke in that
country it was like a man talking in the streets to
another looking out from the top of a steeple, un-
less when I was placed on a table, or held in any
person's hand.” I told him "I had likewise ob-
served another thing, that when I first got into the
ship, and the sailors stood all about me, I thought
they were the most little contemptible creatures I
had ever beheld." For indeed while I was in that
prince's country, I could never endure to look in a
I begged his patience to hear me tell my story,
which I faithfully did from the last time I left Eng-glass after mine eyes had been accustomed to such
land to the moment he first discovered me.
And as
truth always forces its way into rational minds, so
this honest, worthy gentleman, who had some tinc-
ture of learning, and very good sense, was imme-
diately convinced of my candour and veracity. But
further, to confirm all I have said, I entreated him
to give order that my cabinet should be brought, of
which I had the key in my pocket; for he had
already informed me how the seamen disposed of
my closet. I opened it in his own presence, and
showed him the small collection of rarities I made
in the country from which I had been so strangely
delivered. There was the comb I had contrived out
of the stumps of the king's beard, and another of
the same materials, but fixed into the paring of her
majesty's thumb-nail, which served for the back.
There was a collection of needles and pins from a foot
to half-a-yard long; four wasps' stings like joiners'
tacks; some combings of the queen's hair; a gold ring,
which one day she made me a present of in a most
obliging manner, taking it from her little finger and
throwing it over my head like a collar. I desired
the captain would please to accept this ring in return
of his civilities, which he absolutely refused. I
showed him a corn that I had cut off, with my own
hand, from a maid of honour's toe; it was about the
bigness of a Kentish pippin, and grown so hard,
that when I returned to England I got it hollowed
into a cup, and set in silver. Lastly, I desired him
to see the breeches I had then on, which were made
of a mouse's skin.
I could force nothing on him but a footman's
tooth, which I observed him to examine with great
curiosity, and found he had a fancy for it. He re-
ceived it with abundance of thanks, more than such
a trifle could deserve. It was drawn by an unskilful
surgeon in a mistake from one of Glumdalclitch's
men, who was afflicted with the toothach, but it was
as sound as any in his head. I got it cleaned, and
put it into my cabinet. It was about a foot long,
and four inches in diameter.
The captain was very well satisfied with this plain
relation I had given him, and said, "He hoped,
when we returned to England, I would oblige the
world by putting it on paper and making it public."
My answer was, "That I thought we were already
overstocked with books of travels: that nothing could
now pass which was not extraordinary; wherein I
doubted some authors less consulted truth than
prodigious objects, because the comparison gave me
so despicable a conceit of myself. The captain said,
"That while we were at supper he observed me to
look at everything with a sort of wonder, and that
I often seemed hardly able to contain my laughter,
which he knew not well how to take, but imputed it
to some disorder in my brain." I answered, "It
was very true; and I wondered how I could forbear,
when I saw his dishes of the size of a silver three-
pence, a leg of pork hardly a mouthful, a cup not so
big as a nut-shell
big as a nut-shell;" and so I went on describing the
rest of his household-stuff and provisions, after the
same manner. For although the queen had ordered
a little equipage of all things necessary for me while
I was in her service, yet my ideas were wholly taken
up with what I saw on every side of me, and I
winked at my own littleness, as people do at their
own faults. The captain understood my raillery
very well, and merrily replied with the old English
proverb, "That he doubted mine eyes were bigger
than my belly, for he did not observe my stomach so
good, although I had fasted all day;" and continuing
in his mirth, protested "he would have gladly given
a hundred pounds, to have seen my closet in the
eagle's bill, and afterwards in its fall from so great
a height into the sea; which would certainly have
been a most astonishing object, worthy to have the
description of it transmitted to future ages:" and
the comparison of Phaeton was so obvious, that he
could not forbear applying it, although I did not
much admire the conceit.
The captain having been at Tonquin, was, in his
return to England, driven north-eastward to the
latitude of 44 degrees, and longitude of 143. But
meeting a trade-wind two days after I came on board
him, we sailed southward a long time, and coasting
New Holland,
New Holland, kept our course west-south-west,
and then south-south-west, till we doubled the Cape
of Good Hope. Our voyage was very prosperous,
but I shall not trouble the reader with a journal of
it. The captain called in at one or two ports, and
sent in his long-boat for provisions and fresh water;
but I never went out of the ship till we came into the
Downs, which was on the third day of June, 1706,
about nine months after my escape. I offered to leave
my goods in security for payment of my freight; but
the captain protested he would not receive one far-
thing. We took a kind leave of each other, and I made
him promise he would come to see me at my house iu
A VOYAGE TO BROBDINGNAG.
41
Redriff. I hired a horse and guide for five shillings,
which I borrowed of the captain.
As I was on the road, observing the littleness of
the houses, the trees, the cattle, and the people, I
began to think myself in Lilliput. I was afraid of
trampling on every traveller I met, and often called
aloud to have them stand out of the way, so that I
had like to have gotten one or two broken heads for
my impertinence.
When I came to my own house, for which I was
forced to inquire, one of the servants opening the
door, I bent down to go in, (like a goose under a
gate), for fear of striking my head. My wife ran
out to embrace, but I stooped lower than her knees,
thinking she could otherwise never be able to reach
my mouth. My daughter kneeled to ask my blessing,
but I could not see her till she arose, having been so
long used to stand with my head and eyes erect to
above sixty feet; and then I went to take ner up
with one hand by the waist. I looked down upon
the servants, and one or two friends who were in
the house, as if they had been pigmies and I a gianț
I told my wife "She had been too thrifty, for I
found she had starved herself and her daughter to
nothing." In short, I behaved myself so unaccount-
ably that they were all of the captain's opinion.
when he first saw me, and concluded I had lost my
wits. This I mention as an instance of the great
power of habit and prejudice.
In a little time I and my family and friends came
to a right understanding; but my wife protested
"I should never go to sea any more;" although my
evil destiny so ordered, that she had not power
to hinder me, as the reader may know hereafter. In
the mean time, I here conclude the second part of
my unfortunate voyages.
PART THE THIRD.
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, BALNIBARBI, LUGGNAGG, GLUBBDUBDRIB, AND JAPAN.*
CHAPTER I.
The author sets out on his third voyage. Is taken by pirates.
The malice of a Dutchman. His arrival at an island. He
is received into Laputa.
I HAD not been at home above ten days when cap-
tain William Robinson, a Cornish man, commander
of the Hopewell, a stout ship of three hundred tons,
came to my house. I had formerly been surgeon of
another ship, where he was master and a fourth part
owner, in a voyage to the Levant. He had always
treated me more like a brother than an inferior oth-
cer; and hearing of my arrival made me a visit, as
I apprehended, only out of friendship, for nothing
passed more than what is usual after long absences.
But repeating his visits often, expressing his joy to
find me in good health, asking, "Whether I were
now settled for life?" adding, "That he intended a
voyage to the East Indies in two months;" at last
he plainly invited me, though with some apologies,
to be surgeon of the ship; "That I should have
another surgeon under me, beside our two mates;
that my salary should be double to the usual pay;
and that, having experienced my knowledge in sea
affairs to be at least equal to his, he would enter
into any engagement to follow my advice, as much
as if I had shared in the command.”
He said so many other obliging things, and I knew
him to be so honest a man, that I could not reject
his proposal; the thirst I had of seeing the world,
notwithstanding my past misfortunes, continuing as
violent as ever. The only difficulty that remained
was to persuade my wife, whose consent, however,
I at last obtained, by the prospect of advantage she
proposed to her children.
We set out the 5th day of August, 1706, and ar-
rived at Fort St. George the 11th of April, 1707.
We stayed there three weeks to refresh our crew,
many of whom were sick. From thence we went
to Tonquin, where the captain resolved to continue
some time, because many of the goods he intended
to buy were not ready, nor could he expect to be
despatched in several months. Therefore, in hopes
to defray some of the charges he must be at, he
bought a sloop, loaded it with several sorts of goods,
Swift has borrowed hints, in his Voyage to Laputa, from a
work by Dr. Francis Godwin, bishop of Landaff, called "The
Man in the Moon, or a Discourse of a Voyage thither; by Do
mingo Gonsales.
"
wherewith the Tonquinese usually trade to the
neighbouring islands, and putting fourteen men on
board, whereof three were of the country, he appoint-
ed me master of the sloop, and gave me power to
traffic, while he transacted his affairs at Tonquin.
We had not sailed above three days when, a great
storm arising, we were driven five days to the north-
north-east, and then to the east; after which we
had fair weather, but still with a pretty strong gale
from the west. Upon the tenth day we were chased
by two pirates, who soon overtook us for my sloop
was so deep laden that she sailed very slow; neither
were we in a condition to defend ourselves.
;
We were boarded about the same time by both
the pirates, who entered furiously at the head of
their men; but, finding us all prostrate upon our
faces, (for so I gave order,) they pinioned us with
strong ropes, and, setting a guard upon us, went to
search the sloop.
I observed among them a Dutchman, who seemed
to be of some authority, though he was not com-
mander of either ship. He knew us by our coun-
tenances to be Englishmen, and, jabbering to us
in his own language, swore we should be tied back
to back and thrown into the sea. I spoke Dutch
tolerably well: I told him who we were, and begged
him, in consideration of our being Christians and
Protestants, of neighbouring countries in strict alli-
ance, that he would move the captains to take some
pity on us. This infamed his rage; he repeated
his threatenings, and, turning to his companions,
spoke with great vehemence in the Japanese lan-
guage, as I suppose, often using the word Christianos.
The largest of the two pirate ships was com-
manded by a Japanese captain, who spoke a little
Dutch, but very imperfectly. He came up to me,
and, after several questions, which I answered in
"We should not die."
great humility, he said
I
made the captain a very low bow, and then turning
to the Dutchman said, "I was sorry to find more
mercy in a heathen than in a brother Christian."
But I had soon reason to repent those foolish words;
for that malicious reprobate, having often endea-
might be thrown into the sea, (which they would
voured in vain to persuade both the captains that I
not yield to after the promise made me that I should
not die,) however, prevailed so far, as to have a
punishment inflicted on me worse, in all human ap.
42
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
pearance, than death itself. My men were sent by
an equal division into both the pirate ships, and my
sloop new manned. As to myself, it was determin-
ed that I should be set adrift in a small canoe, with
paddles and a sail, and four days' provisions; which
last the Japanese captain was so kind to double out
of his own stores, and would permit no man to
search me. I got down into the canoe, while the
Dutchman, standing upon the deck, loaded me with
all the curses and injurious terms his language could
afford.
About an hour before we saw the pirates I had
taken an observation, and found we were in the
latitude of 46 N. and longitude of 183. When I
was at some distance from the pirates, I discovered
by my pocket glass several islands to the south-east.
I set up my sail, the wind being fair, with a design
to reach the nearest of those islands, which I made
a shift to do in about three hours. It was all rocky;
however I got many birds' eggs; and, striking fire,
I kindled some heath and dry sea-weed, by which I
roasted my eggs. I ate no other supper, being re-
solved to spare my provisions as much as I could.
I passed the night under the shelter of a rock, strew-
ing some heath under me, and slept pretty well.
The next day I sailed to another island, and
thence to a third and fourth, sometimes using my
sail and sometimes my paddles. But not to trouble
But not to trouble
the reader with a particular account of my distresses,
let it suffice, that on the fifth day I arrived at the
last island in my sight, which lay south-south-east to
the former.
This island was at a greater distance than I ex-
pected, and I did not reach it in less than five hours.
I encompassed it almost round before I could find a
convenient place to land in; which was a small
creek, about three times the wideness of my canoe.
I found the island to be all rocky, only a little inter-
mingled with tufts of grass and sweet-smelling
herbs. I took out my small provisions, and after
having refreshed myself I secured the remainder in
a cave, whereof there were great numbers. I ga-
thered plenty of eggs upon the rocks, and got a
quantity of dry sea-weed and parched grass, which I
designed to kindle the next day, and roast my eggs
as well as I could; for I had about me my flint, steel,
match, and burning-glass. I lay all night in the cave
where I had lodged my provisions. My bed was the
same dry grass and sea-weed which I intended for
fuel. I slept very little, for the disquiets of my
mind prevailed over my weariness, and kept me
awake. I considered how impossible it was to pre-
serve my life in so desolate a place, and how miser-
able my end must be; yet found myself so listless
and desponding, that I had not the heart to rise ;
and before I could get spirits enough to creep out of
I walked a
my cave the day was far advanced.
while among the rocks: the sky was perfectly clear,
and the sun so hot that I was forced to turn my
face from it; when, all on a sudden, it became ob-
scure, as I thought, in a manner very different from
what happens by the interposition of a cloud.
turned back, and perceived a vast opaque body be-
tween me and the sun, moving forwards towards the
island it seemed to be about two miles high, and
hid the sun six or seven minutes, but I did not ob-
serve the air to be much colder, or the sky more
darkened, than if I had stood under the shade of a
mountain. As it approached nearer over the place
where I was, it appeared to be a firm substance, the
bottom flat, smooth, and shining very bright, from
the reflection of the sea below. I stood upon a
height about two hundred yards from the shore, and
saw this vast body descending almost to a parallel
I
I
with me, at less than an English mile aistance.
took out my pocket-perspective, and could plainly
discover numbers of people moving up and down the
sides of it, which appeared to be sloping; but what
those people were doing I was not able to distin-
guish.
The natural love of life gave me some inward mo-
tion of joy, and I was ready to entertain a hope, that
this adventure might, some way or other, help to de-
liver me from the desolate place and condition I was
in. But, at the same time, the reader can hardly
conceive my astonishment to behold an island in the
air, inhabited by men, who were able (as it should
seem) to rise or sink, or put it in progressive motion,
as they pleased. But not being at that time in a
| disposition to philosophise upon this phenomenon I
rather chose to observe what course the island would
take, because it seemed for a while to stand still.
Yet, soon after, it advanced nearer, and I could see
the sides of it encompassed with several gradations
of galleries, and stairs, at certain intervals, to descend
from one to the other. In the lowest gallery I be-
held some people fishing with loug angling rods,
and others looking on. I waved my cap (for my hat
was long since worn out) and my handkerchief to-
wards the island; and upon its nearer approach I
called and shouted with the utmost strength of
my
voice; and then looking circumspectly, I beheld a
crowd gather to that side which was most in my
view. I found,
I found, by their pointing towards me and to
each other, that they plainly discovered me, although
they made no return to my shouting. But I could
see four or five men running in great haste up the
stairs, to the top of the island, who then disappear-
ed. I happened rightly to conjecture that these
were sent for orders to some person in authority,
upon this occasion.
The number of people increased, and in less than
half an hour the island was moved and raised in such
a manner, that the lowest gallery appeared in a pa-
rallel of less than a hundred yards' distance from the
height where I stood. I then put myself into the
most supplicating postures, and spoke in the hum-
blest accent, but received no answer. Those who
stood nearest over against me seemed to be persons
of distinction, as I supposed by their habit. They
conferred earnestly with each other, looking often
upon me. At length one of them called out in a
clear, polite, smooth dialect, not unlike in sound to
the Italian; and, therefore, I returned an answer in
that language, hoping, at least, that the cadence
might be more agreeable to his ears. Although nei-
ther of us understood the other, yet my meaning
was easily known, for the people saw the distress I
was in.
They made signs for me to come down from the
rock and go towards the shore, which I accordingly
did; and the flying island being raised to a conve-
nient height, the verge directly over me, a chain
was let down from the lowest gallery, with a seat
fastened to the bottom, to which I fixed myself and
was drawn up by pulleys.
CHAPTER II.
The humours and dispositions of the Laputians described. An
account of their learning. Of the king and his court. The
Author's reception there. The inhabitants subject to fear
and disquietudes. An account of the women.
Ar my alighting, I was surrounded with a crowd of
people, but those who stood nearest seemed to be
of better quality. They beheld me with all the
marks and circumstances of wonder; neither indeed
was I much in their debt, having never till then
seen a race of mortals so singular in their shapes,
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA. &c.
43
habits, and countenances. Their heads were all
reclined, either to the right or the left; one of their
eyes turned inward, and the other directly up to the
zenith. Their outward garments were adorned
with the figures of suns, moons, and stars. inter-
woven with those of fiddles, flutes, harps, trumpets,
guitars, harpsichords and many other instruments of
music unknown to us in Europe. I observed here
and there many in the habit of servants, with a
blown bladder fastened like a flail to the end of a
stick, which they carried in their hands. In each
bladder was a small quantity of dried pease, or little
pebbles, as I was afterwards informed. With these
bladders they now and then flapped the mouths and
ears of those who stood near them, of which prac-
tice I could not then conceive the meaning. It
seems the minds of these people are so taken up
with intense speculations, that they neither can
speak nor attend to the discourses of others, without
being roused by some external taction upon the or-
gans of speech and hearing; for which reason, those
persons who are able to afford it, always keep a
Happer (the original is climenole,) in their family, as
one of their domestics, nor ever walk abroad on
make visits without him. And the business of this
officer is, when two, three, or more persons are in
company, gently to strike with his bladder the
mouth of him who is to speak, and the right ear of
him or them to whom the speaker addresses him-
self. This flapper is likewise employed diligently
to attend his master in his walks, and upon occasion
to give him a soft flap on his eyes, because he is
always so wrapped up in cogitation, that he is in
manifest danger of falling down every precipice, and
bouncing his head against every post; and in the
streets of justling others or being justled himself
into the kennel.
It was necessary to give the reader this informa-
tion, without which he would be at the same loss
with me to understand the proceedings of these peo-
ple, as they conducted me up the stairs to the top of
the island, and from thence to the royal palace.
While we were ascending they forgot several times
what they were about, and left me to myself till
their memories were again roused by their flappers;
for they appeared altogether unmoved by the sight
of my foreign habit and countenance, and by the
shouts of the vulgar, whose thoughts and minds
were more disengaged.
At last we entered the palace and proceeded into
the chamber of presence, where I saw the king
seated on his throne, attended on each side by per-
sons of prime quality. Before the throne was a
large table filled with globes and spheres and ma-
thematical instruments of all kinds. His majesty
took not the least notice of us, although our entrance
was not without sufficient noise, by the coucourse
of all persons belonging to the court. But he was
then deep in a problem, and we attended at least an
hour before he could solve it. There stood by him
on each side a young page with flaps in their hands,
and when they saw he was at leisure, one of them
gently struck his mouth, and the other his right
ear; at which he startled like one awaked on the
sudden, and looking towards me and the company I
was in, recollected the occasion of our coming,
whereof he had been informed before. He spoke
some words, whereupon immediately a young man
with a flap came up to my side, and flapped me
gently on the right ear; but I made signs as well as
I could that I had no occasion for such an instru-
ment; which as I afterwards found, gave his ma-
jesty and the whole court a very mean opinion of
my understanding. The king as far as I could con-
1
:
|
jecture asked me several questions. ana I addressed
myself to him in all the languages I had. When it
was found I could neither understand nor be under-
stood, I was conducted by his order to an apartment
in his palace, (this prince being distinguished above
all his predecessors for his hospitality to strangers,)
where two servants were appointed to attend me.
My dinner was brought, and four persons of quality
whom I remembered to have seen very near the
king's person, did me the honour to dine with me.
We had two courses of three dishes each. In the
first course there was a shoulder of mutton cut into
an equilateral triangle, a piece of beef into a rhom-
boides, and a pudding into a cycloid. The second
course was two ducks trussed up in the form of
fiddles, sausages and puddings resembling flutes and
hautboys, and a breast of veal in the shape of a
harp. The servants cut our bread into cones, cy-
linders, parallelograms, and several other mathema-
tical figures.
While we were at dinner, I made bold to ask the
names of several things in their language, and those
noble persons by the assistance of their flappers de-
lighted to give me answers, hoping to raise my ad-
miration of their great abilities if I could be brought
to converse with them. I was soon able to call for
bread or drink or whatever else I wanted.
After dinner my company withdrew, and a person
was sent to me by the king's order attended by a
flapper. He brought with him pen, ink, and paper,
and three or four books, giving me to understand
by signs that he was sent to teach me the language.
We sat together four hours, in which time I wrote
down a great number of words in columns, with the
translations over against them; I likewise made a
shift to learn several short sentences. For my tutor
would order one of my servants to fetch something,
to turn about, to make a bow, to sit, or to stand or
walk, and the like. Then I took down the sentence
in writing. He showed me also in one of his books
the figures of the sun, moon and stars, the zodiac,
the tropics and polar circles, together with the de-
nominations of many planes and solids. He gave
me the names and descriptions of all the musical
instruments, and the general terms of art in playing
on each of them. After he had left me, I placed all
words with their interpretation in alphabetical
order. And thus in a few days by the help of a
very faithful memory I got some insight into their
language.
my
The word which I interpret the flying or floating
island, is in the original Laputa, whereof I could
never learn the true etymology. Lap, in the old
obsolete language signifies high; and untuh, a gó-
vernor; from which they say by corruption was de-
rived Laputa, from Lapuntuh. But I do not ap-
prove of this derivation, which seems to be a little
strained. I ventured to offer to the learned among
them a conjecture of my own that Laputa was quasi
lap outed; lap signifying properly the dancing of the
sun-beams in the sea, and outed, a wing; which
however I shall not obtrude, but submit to the judi-
cious reader.
Those to whom the king had entrusted me ob-
serving how ill I was clad, ordered a tailor to come
next morning and take measure for a suit of clothes.
This operator did his office after a different manner
from those of his trade in Europe. He first took my
altitude by a quadrant, and then with rule and com-
passes described the dimensions and outlines of my
whole body; all which he entered upon paper, and in
six days brought my clothes, very ill made, and quite
out of shape, by happening to mistake a figure in
the calculation. But my comfort was that I ob-
44
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
served such accidents very frequent and little re-
garded.
During my confinement for want of clothes, and
by an indisposition that held me some days longer,
I much enlarged my dictionary; and when I went
next to court was able to understand many things
the king spoke, and to return him some kind of
answers. His majesty had given orders that the
island should move north-east and by east to the
vertical point over Lagado, the metropolis of the
whole kingdom below upon the firm earth. It was
about ninety leagues distant, and our voyage lasted
four days and a half. I was not in the least sen-
sible of the progressive motion made in the air by
the island. On the second morning about eleven
o'clock, the king himself in person, attended by his
nobility, courtiers and officers, having prepared all
their musical instruments, played on them for three
hours without intermission, so that I was quite
stunned with the noise; neither could I possibly
guess the meaning till my tutor informed me.
said that the people of their island had their ears
adapted to hear the music of the spheres, which
always played at certain periods, and the court was
now prepared to bear their part in whatever in-
strument they most excelled.”
He
In our journey towards Lagado, the capital city,
his majesty ordered that the island should stop over
certain towns and villages, from whence he might
receive the petitions of his subjects. And to this
purpose several packthreads were let down with
small weights at the bottom. On these packthreads
the people strung their petitions, which mounted up
directly like the scraps of paper fastened by school-
boys at the end of the string that holds their kite.
Sometimes we received wine and victuals from be-
low, which were drawn up by pulleys.
The knowledge I had in mathematics gave me
great assistance in acquiring their phraseology,
which depended much upon that science and mu-
sic ; and in the latter I was not unskilled. Their
ideas are perpetually conversant in lines and figures.
If they would for example praise the beauty of a
woman or any other animal, they describe it by
rhombs, circles, parallelograms, ellipses and other
geometrical terms, or by words of art drawn from
music, needless here to repeat. I observed in the
king's kitchen all sorts of mathematical and musical
instruments, after the figures of which they cut up
the joints that were served to his majesty's table.
Their houses are very ill built, the walls bevel
without one right angle in any apartment, and this
defect arises from the contempt they bear to practi-
cal geometry, which they despise as vulgar and
mechanic; those instructions they give being too
refined for the intellects of their workmen, which
occasions perpetual mistakes. And although they
are dexterous enough upon a piece of paper, in the
management of the rule, the pencil and the divider,
yet in the common actions and behaviour of life I
have not seen a more clumsy, awkward and unhandy
people, nor so slow and perplexed in their concep-
tions upon all other subjects except those of mathe-
matics and music. They are very bad reasoners,
and vehemently given to opposition, unless when
they happen to be of the right opinion, which is
seldom their case. Imagination, fancy, and inven-
tion they are wholly strangers to, nor have any
words in their language by which those ideas can
be expressed, the whole compass of their thoughts
and mind being shut up within the two foremen-
tioned sciences.
Most of them, and especially those who deal in
the astronomical part, have great faith in judicial
|
astrology, although they are as named to own it pub-
licly. But what I chiefly admired and thought
altogether unaccountable, was the strong disposition
I observed in them towards news and politics, per-
petually inquiring into public affairs, giving their
judgments in matters of state, and passionately dis-
puting every inch of a party opinion. I have indeed
observed the same disposition among most of the
mathematicians I have known in Europe, although
I could never discover the least analogy between the
two sciences; unless those people suppose that be-
cause the smallest circle has as many degrees as the
largest, therefore the regulation and management of
the world require no more abilities than the hand-
ling and turning of a globe: but I rather take th's
quality to spring from a very common infirmity of
human nature, inclining us to be most curious and
conceited in matters where we have least concern,
and for which we are least adapted by study or
nature.
These people are under continual disquietudes,
never enjoying a minute's peace of mind; and their
disturbances proceed from causes which very little
affect the rest of mortals. Their apprehensions
arise from several changes they dread in the celestial
bodies. For instance, that the earth by the conti-
nual approaches of the sun towards it must in
course of time be absorbed or swallowed up. That
the face of the sun will by degrees be encrusted with
its own effluvia, and give no more light to the world.
That the earth very narrowly escaped a brush from
the tail of the last comet, which would have infalli-
bly reduced it to ashes; and that the next, which
they have calculated for one-and-thirty years hence,
will probably destroy us. For, if in its perihelion
it should approach within a certain degree of the
sun, (as by their calculations they have reason to
dread,) it will receive a degree of heat ten thousand
times more intense than that of red-hot glowing
iron, and in its absence from the sun carry a blazing
tail ten hundred thousand and fourteen miles long;
through which if the earth should pass at the dis-
tance of one hundred thousand miles from the nu-
cleus or main body of the comet, it must in its pas-
sage be set on fire and reduced to ashes. That the
sun daily spending its rays without any nutriment
to supply them, will at last be wholly consumed
and annihilated; which must be attended with the
destruction of this earth, and of all the planets
that receive their light from it.
They are so perpetually alarmed with the appre-
hensions of these, and the like impending dangers,
that they can neither sleep quietly in their beds, nor
have any relish for the common pleasures and
amusements of life. When they meet an acquaint-
ance in the morning, the first question is about the
sun's health, how he looked at his setting and
rising, and what hopes they have to avoid the stroke
of the approaching comet. This conversation they
are apt to run into with the same temper that boys
discover in delighting to hear terrible stories of
spirits and hobgoblins, which they greedily listen to
and dare not go to bed for fear.
The women of the island have abundance of viva-
city; they contemn their husbands, and are exceed-
ingly fond of strangers, whereof there is always a
considerable number from the continent below, at-
tending at court either upon affairs of the several
towns and corporations, or their own particular
occasions, but are much despised, because they
want the same endowments. Among these the
ladies choose their gallants; but the vexation is,
that they act with too much ease and security; for
the husband is always so wrapt in speculation, that
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c
45
the mistress and lover may proceed to the greatest
familiarities before his face, if he be but provided
with paper and implements, and without his flapper
at his side.
basins the water is continually exhaled by the sun
in the day-time, which effectually prevents their
overflowing. Besides, as it is in the power of the
monarch to raise the island above the region of
clouds and vapours, he can prevent the falling of
dews and rain whenever he pleases; for the hign-
est clouds cannot rise above two miles, as naturalists
agree, at least they were never known to do so in
that country.
At the centre of the island there is a chasm,
about fifty yards in diameter, whence the astrono-
mers descend into a large dome, which is therefore
called flandona gagnole, or the astronomer's cave,
situated at the depth of a hundred yards beneath
surface of the adamant. In this cave are
the upper
twenty lamps continually burning, which, from the
reflection of the adamant, cast a strong light into
every part. The place is stored with great variety
of sextants, quadrants, telescopes, astrolabes, and
other astronomical instruments. But the greatest
curiosity upon which the fate of the island depends,
is a loadstone of a prodigious size, in shape resemb-
It is in length six yards,
The wives and daughters lament their confine-
ment to the island, although I think it the most
delicious spot of ground in the world; and although
they live here in the greatest plenty and inagnifi-
cence, and are allowed to do whatever they please,
they long to see the world, and take the diversions
of the metropolis, which they are not allowed to do
without a particular licence from the king; and this
is not easy to be obtained, because the people of
quality have found by frequent experience, how
hard it is to persuade their women to return from
below. I was told that a great court lady who had
several children, is married to the prime minister,
the richest subject in the kingdom, a very graceful
person, extremely fond of her, and lives in the finest
palace of the island; went down to Lagado on the
pretence of health, there hid herself for several
months, till the king sent a warrant to search for
her and she was found in an obscure eating house, ling a weaver's shuttle.
:
all in rags, having pawned her clothes to maintain
an old deformed footman, who beat her every day,
and in whose company she was taken much against
her will. And although her husband received her
with all possible hindness, and without the least re-
proach, she soon after contrived to steal down again
with all her jewels to the same gallant, and has not
been heard of since.
This may perhaps pass with the reader rather for
an European or English story, than for one of a
country so remote. But he may please to consider,
that the caprices of womankind are not limited by
climate or nation, and that they are much more
any
uniform than can be easily imagined.
In about a month's time I had made a tolerable
proficiency in their language, and was able to an-
swer most of the king's questions, when I had the
honour to attend him. His majesty discovered not
the least curiosity to inquire into the laws, govern-
ment, history, religion, or manners of the countries
where I had been; but confined his questions to the
state of mathematics, and received the account I
gave him with great contempt and indifference,
though often roused by his flapper on each side.
CHAPTER III.
A phenomenon solved by modern philosophy and astronomy.
The
The Laputians' great improvements in the latter.
king's method of suppressing Insurrections.
I DESIRED leave of this prince to see the curiosities
of the island, which he was graciously pleased to
I chiefly
grant, and ordered my tutor to attend me.
wanted to know, to what cause, in art or nature, it
owed its several motions, whereof I will now give a
philosophical account to the reader.
It
The flying or floating island is exactly circular, its
diameter 7837 yards, or about four miles and a half,
and consequently contains ten thousand acres.
The bottom, or
is three hundred yards thick.
under-surface, which appears to those who view it
below, is one even regular plate of adamant, shoot-
ing up to the height of about two hundred yards.
Above it lie the several minerals in their usual
order, and over all is a coat of rich mould, ten or
twelve feet deep. The declivity of the upper surface,
from the circumference to the centre, is the natural
cause why all the dews and rains which fall upon
the island are conveyed in small rivulets toward
the middle, where they are emptied into four large
basins, each of about half-a-mile in circuit, and two
hundred yards distant from the centre. From these
and in the thickest part at least three yards over.
This magnet is sustained by a very strong axle of
adamant passing through its middle, upon which it
plays and is poised so exactly, that the weakest
hand can turn it. It is hooped round with a hollow
cylinder of adamant, four feet deep, as many thick,
and twelve yards in diameter, placed horizontally,
and supported by eight adamantine feet, each six
yards high. In the middle of the concave side there
is a groove twelve inches deep, in which the ex-
tremities of the axle are lodged, and turned round
as there is occasion.
The stone cannot be moved from its place by any
force, because the hoop and its feet are one con-
tinued piece with that body of adamant which con-
stitutes the bottom of the island.
By means of this loadstone the island is made to
rise and fall, and move from one place to another;
for with respect to that part of the earth over
which the monarch presides, the stone is endued at
one of its sides with an attractive power, and at the
other with a repulsive. Upon placing the magnet
erect, with its attracting end towards the earth, the
island descends; but when the repelling extremity
points downwards the island mounts directly up-
wards. When the position of the stone is oblique,
the motion of the island is so too; for in this mag-
net the forces always act in lines parallel to its
direction.
By this oblique motion the island is conveyed to
different parts of the monarch's dominions. To ex-
plain the manner of its progress, let 1 B represent a
line drawn across the dominions of Balnibarbi, let
the line c d represent the loadstone, of which let d
be the repelling end, and c the attracting end, the
island being over C: let the stone be placed in
position e d, with its repelling end downwards;
then the island will be driven upwards obliquely to-
wards D. When it is arrived at D, let the stone be
turned upon its axle till its attracting end points
towards E, and then the island will be carried ob-
liquely towards E; where, if the stone be again
turned upon its axle, till it stands in the position
E F, with its repelling point downwards, the island
will rise obliquely towards F, where, by directing
the attracting end towards G, the island may be
carried to G, and from G to H, by turning the stone
so as to make its repelling extremity point directly
downward. And thus, by changing the situation of
downward.
the stone as often as there is occasion, the island is
made to rise and fall by turns in an oblique direc-
49
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
tion, and by those alternate risings and fallings
(the obliquity being not considerable) is conveyed
from one part of the dominions to the other.
"But it must be observed that this island cannot
move beyond the extent of the dominions below,
nor can it rise above the height of four miles. For
which the astronomers (who have written large
systems concerning the stone) assign the following
reason; that the magnetic virtue does not extend
beyond the distance of four miles, and that the
mineral which acts upon the stone in the bowels of
the earth, and in the sea about six leagues distant
from the shore, is not diffused through the whole
globe,but terminated with the limits of the king's
dominions; and it was easy, from the great advan-
tage of such a superior situation, for a prince to
bring under his obedience whatever country lay
within the attraction of that magnet.
·
When the stone is put parallel to the plane of the
horizon the island stands still; for in that case the
extremities of it being at equal distance from the
earth, act with equal force, the one in drawing
downwards, the other in pushing upwards, and con-
sequently no motion can ensue.
1
This loadstone is under the care of certain astrono-
mers, who from time to time give it such positions
as the monarch directs. They spend the greatest
part of their lives in observing the celestial bodies,
which they do by the assistance of glasses, far ex-
celling ours in goodness; for although their largest
telescopes do not exceed three feet they magnify
much more than those of a hundred with us, and
show the stars with greater clearness. This advan-
tage has enabled them to extend their discoveries
much further than our astronomers in Europe; for
they have made a catalogue of ten thousand fixed
stars, whereas the largest of ours do not contain
above one-third part of that number. They have
likewise discovered two lesser stars, or satellites,
which revolve about Mars, whereof the innermost
is distant from the centre of the primary planet ex-
actly three of his diameters, and the outermost five;
the former revolves in the space of ten hours, and
the latter in twenty-one and a half; so that the
squares of their periodical times are very near in the
same proportion with the cubes of their distance,
from the centre of Mars; which evidently shows
them to be governed by the same law of gravitation
that influences the other heavenly bodies.
If
They have observed ninety-three different comets,
and settled their periods with great exactness.
this be true (and they affirm it with great confi-
dence), it is much to be wished that their observa-
tions were made public, whereby the theory of
comets, which at present is very lame and defective,
lame and defective,
might be brought to the same perfection with other
parts of astronomy.
The king would be the most absolute prince in
the universe if he could but prevail on a ministry to
join with him; but these having their estates below
on the continent, and considering that the office of
a favourite has a very uncertain tenure, would never
consent to the enslaving of their country.
If any town should engage in rebellion or mutiny,
fall into violent factions, or refuse to pay the usual
tribute, the king has two methods of reducing them
to obedience. The first, and the mildest course is,
by keeping the island hovering over such a towu,
and the lands about it, whereby he can deprive them
of the benefit of the sun and the rain, and conse-
quently afflict the inhabitants with dearth and dis-
eases. And if the crime deserve it, they are at the
same time pelted from above with great stones,
against which they have no defence but bv creeping
into cellars or caves, while tne roofs of their houses
are beaten to pieces. But if they still continue ob-
stinate, or offer to raise insurrections, he proceeds
to the last remedy, by letting the island drop di-
rectly upon their heads, which makes an universal
destruction both of houses and men. However,
this is an extremity to which the prince is seldom
driven, neither indeed is he willing to put it in exe-
cution; nor dare his ministers advise him to an
action which, as it would render them odious to
the people, so it would be a great damage to their
own estates, which lie all below; for the island is
the king's demesne.
But there is still indeed a more weighty reason
why the kings of this country have been always
averse from executing so terrible an action, unless
upon the utmost necessity; for, if the town in-
tended to be destroyed should have in it any tall
rocks, as it generally falls out in the larger cities, a
situation probably chosen at first with a view to
prevent such a catastrophe; or if it abound in high
spires or pillars of stone, a sudden fall might en-
danger the bottom or under surface of the island,
which, although it consist, as I have said, of one
entire adamant two hundred yards thick, might
happen to crack by too great a shock, or burst, by
approaching too near the fires from the houses
below, as the backs both of iron and stone will
often do in our chimneys. Of all this the people
are well apprised, and understand how far to carry
their obstinacy, where their liberty or property is
concerned. And the king, when he is highest pro-
voked, and most determined to press a city to rub-
bish, orders the island to descend with great gentle-
ness, out of a pretence of tenderness to his people,
but indeed for fear of breaking the adamantine
bottom; in which case it is the opinion of all their
philosophers that the loadstone could no longer
hold it up, and the whole mass would fall to the
ground.
By a fundamental law of this realm, neither the
king nor either of his two elder sons are permitted
to leave the island; nor the queen, till she is past
child-bearing.
CHAPTER IV.
The author leaves Laputa; is conveyed to Balnibarbi; arrives
at the metropolis. A description of the metropolis and the
country adjoining. The author hospitably received by a
great lord. His conversation with that lord.
ALTHOUGH I cannot say that I was ill treated in this
island, yet I must confess I thought myself too much
neglected, not without some degree of contempt;
for neither prince nor people appeared to be curious
in any part of knowledge, except mathematics and
music, wherein I was far their inferior, and upon
that account very little regarded.
On the other side, after having seen all the curi-
osities of the island, I was very desirous to leave it,
being heartily weary of those people. They were
indeed excellent in two sciences, for which I have
great esteem, and wherein I am not unversed; but
at the same time so abstracted and involved in
speculation that I never met with such disagreeable
companions. I conversed only with women, trades-
men, flappers, and court-pages, during two months
I rendered
of my abode there; by which at last
myself extremely contemptible; yet these were the
only people from whom I could ever receive a rea-
sonable answer.
I had obtained, by hard study, a good degree of
knowledge in their language; I was weary of being
confined to an island where I received so little
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c.
47
{
countenance, and resolved to leave it with the first
opportunity.
There was a great lord at court, nearly related to
the king, and for that reason alone used with re-
spect. He was universally reckoned the most igno-
rant and stupid person among them.
He had per-
formed many eminent services for the crown, had
great natural and acquired parts, adorned with in-
tegrity and honour; but so ill an ear for music that
his detractors reported "he had been often known
to beat time in the wrong place;" neither could his
tutors without extreme difficulty teach him to demon-
strate the most easy proposition in the mathematics.
He was pleased to show me many marks of favour,
often did me the honour of a visit, desired to be
Informed in the affairs of Europe, the laws and
customs, the manners and learning of the several
countries where I had travelled. He listened to
me with great attention, and made very wise ob-
servations on all I spoke. He had two flappers
attending him for state, but never made use of them
except at court and in visits of ceremony, and would
always command them to withdraw when we were
alone together.
I entreated this illustrious person to intercede in
my behalf with his majesty, for leave to depart,
which he accordingly did, as he was pleased to tell
me, with regret; for indeed he had made me se-
veral offers very advantageous, which however I
refused, with expressions of the highest acknow-
ledgment.
On the 16th of February I took leave of his ma-
jesty and the court. The king made me a present
to the value of about two hundred pounds English,
and my protector his kinsman as much more; to-
gether with a letter of recommendation to a friend
of his in Lagado, the metropolis: the island being
then hovering over a mountain about two miles
from it, I was let down from the lowest gallery, in
the same manner as I had been taken up.
The continent, as far as it is subject to the mo-
narch of the flying island, passes under the general
name of Balnibarbi; and the metropolis, as I said
before, is called Lugado. I felt some little satisfac-
tion in finding myself on firm ground. I walked to
the city without any concern, being clad like one
of the natives, and sufficiently instructed to converse
with them. I soon found out the person's house to
whom I was recommended, presented my letter
from his friend the grandee in the island, and was
received with much kindness. This great lord,
whose name was Munodi, ordered me an apartment
in his own house, where I continued during my
stay, and was entertained in a most hospitable
manner.
|
1
|
The next morning after my arrival he took me in
his chariot to see the town, which is about half the
bigness of London; but the houses very strangely
built, and most of them out of repair. The people |
in the streets walked fast, looked wild, their eyes
fixed, and were generally in rags. We passed
through one of the town gates, and went about
three miles into the country, where I saw many
labourers working with several sorts of tools in the
ground, but was not able to conjecture what they
were about; neither did I observe any expectation |
either of corn or grass, although the soil appeared
to be excellent. I could not forbear admiring at
these odd appearances, both in town and country;
and I made bold to desire my conductor that he
would be pleased to explain to me what could be
meant by so many busy heads, hands, and faces,
both in the streets and the fields, because I did not
discover any good effects they produced; but on
the contrary I never knew a soil so unhappily cul-
tivated, houses so ill contrived and so ruinous, or a
people whose countenances and habit expressed so
much misery and want.
This Lord Munodi was a person of the first rank,
and had been some years governor of Lagado; but,
by a cabal of ministers was discharged for insuf-
ficiency. However, the king treated him with ten-
derness, as a well-meaning man, but of a low con-
temptible understanding.
When I gave that free censure of the country and
its inhabitants, he made no further answer than by
telling me That I had not been long enough
among them to form a judgment; and that the dif-
ferent nations of the world had different customs;'
with other common topics to the same purpose.
But when we returned to his palace he asked me
"How I liked the building, what absurdities I ob-
served, and what quarrel I had with the dress or
looks of his domestics !" This he might safely do,
because everything about him was muguificent,
That his ex-
regular, and polite. I answered,
cellency's prudence, quality, and fortune, had ex-
empted him from those defects which folly and beg-
gary had produced in others." He said, • If I
would go with him to his country-house, about
twenty miles distant, where his estate lay, there
would be more leisure for this kind of conversa-
tion." I told his excellency "That I was entirely
at his disposal;" and accordingly we set out next
morning.
During our journey he made me observe the se-
veral methods used by farmeis in managing their
lands, which to me were wholly unaccountable; for,
except in some very few places, I could not discover
one ear of corn or blade of grass. But in three
hours' travelling the scene was wholly altered; we
came into a most beautiful country; farmers' houses,
at small distances, neatly built; the fields enclosed,
containing vineyards, corn-grounds, and meadows.
Neither do I remember to have seen a more de-
lightful prospect. His excellency observed my
countenance to clear up; he told me with a sigh,
"That there his estate began, and would continue
the same till we should come to his house. That
his countrymen ridiculed and despised him for
managing his affairs no better, and for setting so ill
an example to the kingdom; which however was
followed by very few, such as were old, and wilful,
and weak, like himself."
We came at length to the house, which was in-
deed a noble structure, built according to the best
rules of ancient architecture. The fountains. gar-
dens, walks, avenues, and groves, were all disposed
with exact judgment and taste. I gave due praises
to everything I saw, whereof his excellency took
not the least notice till after supper; when, there
being no third companion, he told me, with a very
melancholy air, that he doubted he must throw
down his houses in town and country, to rebuild
them after the present mode; destroy all his plan-
tations, and cast others into such a form as modern
usage required, and give the same directions to all
his tenants, unless he would submit to incur the
censure of pride, singularity, affectation, ignorance,
caprice, and perhaps increase his majesty's displea-
That the admiration I appeared to be under
would cease or diminish when he had informed me
of some particulars which, probably, I never heard
of at court; the people there being too much taken
up in their own speculations to have regard to what
passed here below.
sure.
The sum of his discourse was to this effect:
"That about forty years ago certain persons went
48
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
up to Laputa, either upon business or diversion, |
and after five months' continuance came back
with a very little smattering in mathematics, but
full of volatile spirits acquired in that airy region.
That these persons upon their return began to dis-
like the management of everything below, and fell
into schemes of putting all arts, sciences, languages,
and mechanics, upon a new foot. To this end they
procured a royal patent for erecting an academy of
projectors in Lagado; and the humour prevailed so
strongly among the people that there is not a town'
of any consequence in the kingdom without such
an academy. In these colleges the professors con-
trive new rules and methods of agriculture and
Duilding, and new instruments and tools for all
trades and manufactures; whereby, as they under-
take, one man shall do the work of ten; a palace
may be built in a week of materials so durable as to
last for ever without repairing. All the fruits of
the earth shall come to maturity at whatever season
we think fit to choose, and increase a hundred
fold more than they do at present; with innumer-
able other happy proposals. The only inconve-
nience is, that none of these projects are yet brought
to perfection; and in the mean time the whole coun-
try lies miserably waste, the houses in ruins, and
the people without food or clothes. By all which,
instead of being discouraged, they are fifty times.
more violently bent upon prosecuting their schemes,
driven equally on by hope and despair; that as for
himself, being not of an enterprising spirit, he was
content to go on in the old forms, to live in the
houses his ancestors had built, and act as they did
in every part of life, without innovation. That
some few other persons of quality and gentry had
done the same, but were looked on with an eye of
contempt and ill-will, as enemies to art, ignorant,
and ill commonwealth's men, preferring their own
ease and sloth before the general improvement of
their country."
His lordship added, "That he would not, by any
further particulars, prevent the pleasure I should
certainly take in viewing the grand academy, whi-
ther he was resolved I should go." He only desired
me to observe a ruined building upon the side of a
mountain about three miles distant, of which he gave
me this account: "That he had a very convenient
mill within half a mile of his house, turned by a
current from a large river, and sufficient for his
own family, as well as a great number of his tenants.
That about seven years ago a club of those pro-
jectors came to him with proposals to destroy this
mill, and build another on the side of that mountain
on the long ridge whereof a long canal must be cut,
for a repository of water, to be conveyed up by
pipes and engines to supply the mill; because the
wind and air upon a height agitated the water, and
thereby made it fitter for motion; and because the
water, descending down a declivity, would turn the
mill with half the current of a river, whose course is
more upon a level." He said, "That being then
not very well with the court, and pressed by many
of his friends, he complied with the proposal; and
after employing a hundred men for two years, the
work miscarried, the projectors went off, laying the
blame entirely upon him, railing at him ever since,
and putting others upon the same experiment, with
equal assurance of success, as well as equal disap-
pointment."
In a few days we came back to town; and his ex-
cellency, considering the bad character he had in the
academy, would not go with me himself, but recom-
mended me to a friend of his, to bear me company
thither. My lord was pleased to represent me as a
great admirer of projects, and a person of much
curiosity, and easy belief; which indeed was not
without truth; for I had my self been a sort of pro-
jector in my younger days.
CHAPTER V.
The author permitted to see the grand academy of Lagado.
The academy largely described. The arts wherein the Pro-
fessors employ themselves.*
THIS academy is not an entire single building, but a
continuation of several houses on both sides of a
street, which growing waste, was purchased, an]
applied to that use.
I was received very kindly by the warden, and went
for many days to the academy. Every room has in
it one or more projectors; and I believe I could not
be in fewer than five hundred rooms.
He
The first man I saw was of a meagre aspect, with
sooty hands and face, his hair and beard long,
ragged, and singed in several places. His clothes,
shirt, and skin, were all of the same colour.
had been eight years upon a project for extracting
sun-beams out of cucumbers, which were to be put
in phials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm
the air in raw inclement summers. He told me he
did not doubt that in eight years more he should
be able to supply the governor's gardens with sun-
shine at a reasonable rate; but he complained that
his stock was low, and entreated me "to give him
something as an encouragement to ingenuity, espe-
cially since this had been a very dear season for
cucumbers.' I made him a small present, for my
lord had furnished me with money on purpose,
because he knew their practice of begging from all
who go to see them.
I went into another chamber, but was ready to
hasten back, being almost overcome with a horrible.
stink. My conductor pressed me forward, conjur-
ing me in a whisper, "to give no offence, which
would be highly resented;" and therefore I durst
not so much as stop my nose. The projector of this
cell was the most ancient student of the academy;
his face and beard were of a pale yellow; his hands
and clothes daubed over with filth. When I was pre-
sented to him, he gave me a close embrace, a com-
pliment I could well have excused. His employ-
ment, from his first coming into the academy, was
an operation to reduce human excrement to its ori-
ginal food, by separating the several parts, removing
the tincture which it receives from the gall, making
the ordure exhale, and scumming off the saliva.
had a weekly allowance from the society, of a vessel
filled with human ordure, about the bigness of a
Bristol barrel.
He
I saw another at work to calcine ice into gun-
powder, who likewise showed me a treatise he had
written concerning the malleability of fire, which he
intended to publish.
There was a most ingenious architect, who had
contrived a new method for building houses, by
beginning at the roof, and working downward to
the foundation; which he justified to me by the like
practice of those two prudent insects, the bee and
the spider.
ap-
There was a man born blind, who had several
prentices in his own condition: their employment
was to mix colours for painters, which their master
taught them to distinguish, by feeling and smelling.
It was indeed my misfortune to find them at that
time not very perfect in their lessons, and the pro-
fessor himself happened to be generally mistaken.
*The occupations of the professors in the academy of Lagade
are copied from Rabelais.
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c.
49
7
This artist is much encouraged and esteemed by the
whole fraternity.
In another apartment, I was highly pleased with a
projector who had found a device of ploughing the
ground with hogs, to save the charges of ploughs,
cattie, and labour. The method is this:-In an
acre of ground, you bury, at six inches distance, and
eight deep, a quantity of acorns, dates, chesnuts, and
other mast or vegetables, whereof these animals are
fondest then you drive six hundred or more of
them into the field, where, in a few days, they will
root up the whole ground in search of their food,
and make it fit for sowing, at the same time manur-
ing it with their dung; it is true upon experiment
they found the charge and trouble very great, and
they had little or no crop. However, it is not
doubted that this invention may be capable of great
improvement.
I went into another room, where the walls and
ceiling were all hung round with cobwebs, except a
narrow passage for the artist to go in and out.
At
my entrance, he called aloud to me "not to disturb
his webs.' He lamented "the fatal mistake the
world had been so long in, of using silk-worms,
while we had such plenty of domestic insects, who
infinitely excelled the former, because they under-
stood how to weave, as well as spin." And he pro-
posed further, "That, by employing spiders, the
charge of dying silks should be wholly saved;"
whereof I was fully convinced, when he shewed me
a vast number of flies most beautifully coloured,
wherewith he fed his spiders, assuring us, "that the
webs would take a tincture for them; and as he
had them of all hues, he hoped to fit everybody's
fancy, as soon as he could find proper food for the
flies, of certain gums, oils, and other glutinous
matter, to give a strength and consistence to the
threads."
There was an astronomer, who had undertaken to
place a sun-dial upon the great weathercock on the
town house, by adjusting the annual and diurnal
motions of the earth and sun, so as to answer and
coincide with all accidental turnings of the wind.
I was complaining of a small fit of the colic, upon
which my conductor led me into a room where a
great physician resided, who was famous for curing
that disease, by contrary operations from the same
instrument. He had a large pair of bellows, with a
long slender muzzle of ivory; this he conveyed eight
inches up the anus, and drawing in the wind, he
affirmed he could make the guts as lank as a dried
bladder. But when the disease was more stubborn
and violent, he let in the muzzle while the bellows
were full of wind, which he discharged into the body
of the patient; then withdrew the instrument to
replenish it, clapping his thumb strongly against the
orifice of the fundament; and this being repeated
three or four times, the adventitious wind would rush
out, bring the noxious along with it, (like water put
into a pump,) and the patient recovered.
him try both experiments upon a dog, but could not
discern any effect from the former.
effect from the former. After the latter
After the latter
the animal was ready to burst, and made so violent
a discharge as was very offensive to me and my
companion. The dog died on the spot, and we left
the doctor endeavouring to recover him by the same
operation.
I saw
I visited many other apartments, but shall not
trouble my reader with all the curiosies I observed,
being studious of brevity.
I had hitherto seen only one side of the academy,
the other being appropriated to the advancers of
speculative learning, of whom 1 shall say something,
when I have mentioned one illustrious person more,
VOL. I.
who is called among them "the universal artist."
He told us "he had been thirty years employing his
He
thoughts for the improvement of human life."
had two large rooms full of wonderful curiosities,
and fifty men at work.
and fifty men at work. Some were condensing air
into a dry tangible substance, by extracting the
nitre, and letting the aqueous or fluid particles per-
colate; others softening marble for pillows and pin-
cushions; others petrifying the hoofs of a living
horse to preserve them from foundering. The artist
himself was at that time busy upon two great designs;
the first, to sow land with chaff, wherein he affirmed
the true seminal virtue to be contained, as he de-
monstrated by several experiments, which I was not
skilful enough to comprehend. The other was, by a
certain composition of gums, minerals, and vege-
tables, outwardly applied, to prevent the growth of
wool upon two young lambs; and he hoped in a
reasonable time to propagate the breed of naked
sheep all over the kingdom.
We crossed a walk to the other part of the aca-
demy, where, as I have already said, the projectors in
speculative learning resided.
66
The first professor I saw was in a very large room,
with forty pupils about him.
pupils about him. After salutation, ob-
serving me to look earnestly upon a frame, which
took up the greatest part of both the length and
breadth of the room, he said, Perhaps I might
wonder to see him employed in a project for im-
proving speculative knowledge, by practical me-
chanical operations. But the world would soon be
sensible of its usefulness; and he flattered himself,
that a more noble exalted thought never sprang in
any other man's head. Every one knew how la-
borious the usual method is of attaining to arts and
sciences; whereas, by his contrivance, the most
ignorant person at a reasonable charge, and with
little bodily labour, might write books in philosophy,
poetry, politics, laws, mathematics, and theology,
without the least assistance from genius or study.
He then led me to the frame, about the sides where-
of all his pupils stood in ranks. It was twenty feet
square, placed in the middle of the room. The
superficies was composed of several bits of wood,
about the bigness of a die, but some larger than
others. They were all linked together by slender
wires. These bits of wood were covered on every
square, with paper pasted on them; and on these
papers were written all the words of their language,
in their several moods, tenses, and declensions, but
without any order. The professor then desired me
"to observe; for he was going to set his engine
at work." The pupils at his command took each of
them hold of an iron handle, whereof there were
forty fixed round the edges of the frame, and giving
them a sudden turn, the whole disposition of the
words was entirely changed. He then commanded
six-and-thirty of the lads to read the several lines
softly, as they appeared upon the frame; and where
they found three or four words together that might
make part of a sentence they dictated to the four
remaining boys, who were scribes.
boys, who were scribes. This work was
repeated three or four times, and at every turn the
engine was so contrived, that the words shifted into
new places, as the square bits of wood moved upside
down
Six hours a-day the young students were employed
in this labour; and the professor shewed me several
volumes in large folio, already collected, of broken
sentences, which he intended to piece together, and
out of those rich materials, to give the world a com
plete body of all arts and sciences; which, however,
might be still improved, and much expedited, if the
public would raise a fund for making and employing
R
50
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
five hundred such frames in Lagado, and oblige the
managers to contribute in common their several
collections.
He assured me, "that this invention had employed
all his thoughts from his youth; that he had emptied
the whole vocabulary into his frame, and made the
strictest computation of the general proportion there
is in books between the number of particles, nouns,
and verbs, and other parts of speech."
I made my humblest acknowledgment to this
illustrious person, for his great communicative-
ness; and promised, "if ever I had the good fortune
to return to my native country, that I would do him
justice, as the sole inventor of this wonderful ma-
chine" the form and contrivance of which I de-
sired leave to delineate on paper, as in the figure
here annexed. I told him, "although it were the
custom of our learned in Europe to steal inventions.
from each other, who had thereby at least this ad-
vantage, that it became a controversy which was the
right owner; yet I would take such caution, that
he should have the honour entire, without a rival.”
We next went to the school of languages, where
three professors sat in consultation upon improving
that of their own country.
The first project was to shorten discourse, by cut-
ting polysyllables into one, and leaving out verbs
and participles, because, in reality all things imagin-
able are but nouns.
The other project was a scheme for entirely abolish-
ing all words whatsoever, and this was urged as a
great advantage in point of health, as well as brevity.
For it is plain, that every word we speak is, in
some degree, a diminution of our lungs by corrosion,
and consequently contributes to the shortening of
our lives. An expedient was therefore offered,
"that since words are only names for things, it
would be more convenient for all men to carry
about them such things as were necessary to express
a particular business they are to discourse on."
And this invention would certainly have taken
place, to the great ease as well as health of the
subject, if the women, in conjunction with the vulgar
and illiterate, had not threatened to raise a rebellion,
unless they might be allowed the liberty to speak
with their tongues, after the manner of their fore-
fathers; such constant irreconcilable enemies to
science are the common people. However, many
of the most learned and wise adhere to the new
scheme of expressing themselves by things, which
has only this inconvenience attending it, that if a
man's business be very great, and of various kinds,
he must be obliged in proportion, to carry a greater
bundle of things upon his back, unless he can afford
one or two strong servants to attend him.
often beheld two of these sages almost sinking under
the weight of their packs, like pedlars among us;
who, when they meet in the street, would lay down
their loads, open their sacks, and hold conversation
for an hour together, then put up their implements,
help each other to resume their burdens, and take
their leave.
I have
But for short conversations, a man may carry
implements in his pockets, and under his arms,
enough to supply him; and in his house he cannot
be at a loss. Therefore the room where company
meet who practise this art is full of all things ready
at hand, requisite to furnish matter for this kind of
artificial converse.
Another great advantage proposed by this inven-
tion was, that it would serve as a universal language
to be understood in all civilised nations, whose goods
and utensils are generally of the same kind, or nearly
resembling, so that their uses might easily be compre-
hended. And thus ambassadors would be qualified
to treat with foreign princes, or ministers of state, to
whose tongues they were utter strangers.
I was at the mathematical school where the master
taught his pupils, after a method scarce imaginable
to us in Europe. The proposition and demonstra-
tion were fairly written on a thin wafer, with ink
composed of a cephalic tincture. This the student
was to swallow upon a fasting stomach, and for three
days following eat nothing but bread and water
As the wafer digested, the tincture mounted to his
brain, bearing the proposition along with it. But
the success has not hitherto been answerable, partly
by some error in the quantum or composition, and
partly by the perverseness of lads, to whom this
bolus is so nauseous, that they generally steal aside
and discharge it upwards, before it can operate;
neither have they been yet persuaded to use so long
an abstinence as the prescription requires.
CHAPTER VI.
A further account of the academy. The author proposes some
improvements, which are honourably received.
IN the school of political projectors I was but ill
entertained; the professors appearing, in my judg-
ment, wholly out of their senses, which is a scene
that never fails to make me melancholy. These
unhappy people were proposing schemes for per-
suading monarchs to choose favourites upon the
score of their wisdom, capacity, and virtue; of
teaching ministers to consult the public good; of
rewarding merit, great abilities, and eminent ser-
vices; of instructing princes to know their true
interest, by placing it on the same foundation with
that of their people; of choosing for employments
persons qualified to exercise them; with many other
wild impossible chimeras, that never entered before
into the heart of man to conceive; and confirmed
in me the old observation, "That there is nothing
so extravagant and irrational, which some philo-
sophers have not maintained for truth."
But, however, I shall so far do justice to this part
of the academy, as to acknowledge that all of them
were not so visionary. There was a most inge-
nious doctor, who seemed to be perfectly versed in
the whole nature and system of government. This
illustrious person had very usefully employed his
studies in finding out effectual remedies for all dis-
eases and corruptions to which the several kinds of
public administration are subject, by the vices or
infirmities of those who govern, as well as by the
licentiousness of those who are to obey. For in-
stance, whereas all writers and reasoners have agreed
that there is a strict universal resemblance between
the natural and the political body; can there be any-
thing more evident, than that the health of both must
be preserved, and the diseases cured by the same
prescriptions? It is allowed, that senates and great
councils are often troubled with redundant, ebullient,
and other peccant humours; with many diseases of
the head, and more of the heart; with strong con-
vulsions, with grievous contractions of the nerves.
and sinews in both hands, but especially the right;
with spleen, flatus, vertigoes, and deliriums; with
scrofulous tumours, full of fetid purulent matter;
with sour frothy ructations; with canine appetites,
and crudeness of digestion, besides many others,
needless to mention. This doctor, therefore, pro-
posed, "That upon the meeting of the senate,
certain physicians should attend at the three first
days of their sitting, and at the close of each day's
debate feel the pulses of every senator; after which,
having inaturely considered and consulted upon the
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c,
51
nature of the several maladies, and the methods of
cure, they should, on the fourth day, return to the
senate-house, attended by their apothecaries, stored
with proper medicines; and before the members
sat, administer to each of them lenitives, aperitives,
abstersives, corrosives, restringents, palliatives,
laxatives, cephalalgics, icterics, apophlegmatics,
acoustics, as their several cases required; and, ac-
cording as these medicines should operate, repeat,
alter, or omit them, at the next meeting."
This project could not be of any great expense to
the public, and might, in my poor opinion, be of
much use for the dispatch of business, in those coun-
tries where senates have any share in the legislative
power; beget unanimity, shorten debates, open a
few mouths which are now closed, and close many
more which are now open; curb the petulancy of
the young, and correct the positiveness of the old;
rouse the stupid, and damp the pert.
Again because it is a general complaint that the
favourites of princes are troubled with short and
weak memories; the same doctor proposed, "That
whoever attended a first minister, after having told
his business, with the utmost brevity, and in the
plainest words, should, at his departure, give the
said minister a tweak by the nose, or a kick on the
belly, or tread on his corns, or lug him thrice by
both ears, or run a pin into his breach, or pinch his
arm black and blue, to prevent forgetfulness and
at every levee day repeat the same operation, till
the business were done, or absolutely refused.'
He likewise directed, "That every senator in the
great council of a nation, after he had delivered his
opinion, and argued in the defence of it, should be
obliged to give his vote directly contrary; because,
if that were done, the result would infallibly ter-
minate in the good of the public."
When parties in a state are violent, he offered a
wonderful contrivance to reconcile them. The
method is this: you take a hundred leaders of each
party; you dispose them into couples of such whose
heads are nearest of a size; then let two nice ope-
rators saw off the occiput of each couple at the same
time, in such a manner, that the brain may be equally
divided. Let the occiputs thus cut off be inter-
changed, applying each to the head of his opposite
party-man. It seems indeed to be a work that
requires some exactness, but the professor assured us,
"That if it were dexterously performed, the cure
would be infallible." For he argued thus: "That
the two half brains, being left to debate the matter
between themselves within the space of one skull,
would soon come to a good understanding, and
produce that moderation, as well as regularity of
thinking, so much to be wished for in the heads of
those who imagine they come into the world only
to watch and govern its motion: and as to the
difference of brains, in quantity or quality, among
those who are directors in faction," the doctor as-
sured us, from his own knowledge, "that it was a
perfect trifle."
I heard a very warm debate between two pro-
fessors, about the most commodious and effectual
ways and means of raising money, without grieving
the subject. The first affirmed, "the justest method
would be, to lay a certain tax upon vices and folly;
and the sum fixed upon every man to be rated, after
the fairest manner, by a jury of his neighbours."
The second was of an opinion directly contrary;
"to tax those qualities of body and mind, for which
men chiefly value themselves; the rate to be more
or less, according to the degrees of excelling; the
decision whereof should be left entirely to their own
breast The highest tax was upon men who are
the greatest favourites of the other sex, and the as-
sessments, according to the number and nature of
the favours they have received; for which they are
allowed to be their own vouchers. Wit, valour,
and politeness, were likewise proposed to be largely
taxed, and collected in the same manner, by every
person's giving his own word for the quantum of
what he possessed. But as to honour, justice, wis-
dom and learning they should not be taxed at all,
because they are qualifications of so singular a kind,
that no man will either allow them in his neighbour,
or value them in himself.
The women were proposed to be taxed according
to their beauty and skill in dressing, wherein they
had the same privilege with the men, to be deter-
mined by their own judgment. But constancy,
chastity, good sense, and good nature, were not rated,
because they would not bear the charge of collecting.
To keep senators in the interest of the crown, it
was proposed that the members should raffle for em-
ployments; every man first taking an oath, and giv-
ing security, that he would vote for the court, whether
he won or not; after which, the losers had, in their
turn, the liberty of raffling upon the next vacancy.
Thus, hope and expectation would be kept alive;
none would complain of broken promises, but im-
pute their disappointments wholly to fortune, whose
shoulders are broader and stronger than those of
a ministry.
Another professor showed me a large paper of in-
structions for discovering plots and conspiracies
against the government. He advised great statesmen
to examine into the diet of all suspected persons;
their times of eating; upon which side they lay in
bed; with which hand they wiped their posteriors;
take a strict view of their excrements, and from
the colour, the ordure, the taste, the consistence,
the crudeness, or maturity of digestion, form
a judgment of their thoughts and designs; be-
cause men are never so serious, thoughtful, and
intent, as when they are at stool, which he found by
experience; for, in such conjunctures, when he used,
merely as a trial, to consider which was the best way
of murdering the king, his ordure would have a
tincture of green; but quite different when he
thought only of raising an insurrection, or burning
the metropolis.
The whole discourse was written with great acute-
ness, containing many observations, both curious and
useful for politicians, but as I conceived not altogether
complete. This I ventured to tell the author, and
offered, if he pleased, to supply him with some addi-
tions. He received my proposition with more com-
pliance than is usual among writers, especially those
of the projecting species; professing "he would be
glad to receive further information."
I told him, "That in the kingdom of Tribnia,
[Britain] by the natives called Langdon, [London]
where I had sojourned some time in my travels, the
bulk of the people consist in a manner wholly of
discoverers, witnesses, informers, accusers, prosecu-
tors, evidences, swearers, together with their several
subservient and subaltern instruments, all under the
colours, the conduct, and the pay of ministers of
state, and their deputies.* The plots in that king-
dom are usually the workmanship of those persons
who desire to raise their own characters of profound
politicians; to restore new vigour to a crazy admi-
nistration; to stifle or divert general discontents; to
fill their coffers with forfeitures; and raise or sink
the opinion of public credit, as either shall best an-
swer their private advantage. It is first agreed and
The passages which follow refer to the proceedings against
Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester.-See State Trials in 1728.
E 2
52
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
settled among them, what suspected persons shall be
accused of a plot; then effectual care is taken to
secure all their letters and papers and put the owners
in chains. These papers are delivered to a set of
artists, very dexterous in finding out the mysterious
meanings of words, syllables, and letters; for in-
stance, they can discover a close-stool to signify a
privy-council; a flock of geese, a senate; a lame
dog, an invader; the plague, a standing army; a
buzzard, a prime minister; the gout, a high priest;
a gibbet, a secretary of state; a chamber-pot, a com-
mittee of grandees; a sieve, a court lady; a broom,
a revolution; a mouse-trap, an employment; a
bottomless-pit, a treasury; a sink, a court; a cap
and bells, a favourite; a broken reed, a court of
justice; an empty tun, a general; a running sore,
the administration.
"When this method fails, they have two others
more effectual, which the learned among them call
acrostics and anagrams. First, they can decipher
First, they can decipher
all initial letters into political meanings. Thus, N
shall signify a plot; B a regiment of horse; La fleet
at sea; or secondly, by transposing the letters of the
alphabet in any suspected paper, they can lay open
the deepest designs of a discontented party. So, for
example, if I should say, in a letter to a friend,
"Our brother Tom has just got the piles,' a skilful
decipherer would discover that the same letters
which compose that sentence, may be analysed into
the following words, Resist, a plot is brought
home, the tour.' And this is the anagrammatic
method.'"*
C
The professor made me great acknowledgments
for communicating these observations, and promised
to make honourable mention of me in his treatise.
I saw nothing in this country that could invite me
to a longer continuance, and began to think of re-
turning home to England.
CHAPTER VII.
The author leaves Lagado. Arrives at Maldonada. No ship
ready. He takes a short voyage to Glubbdubdrib. His re-
ception by the Governor.
THE Continent, of which this kingdom is a part, ex-
tends itself, as I have reason to believe, eastward, to
that unknown tract of America westward of Califor-
nia; and north, to the Pacific Ocean, which is not
above a hundred and fifty miles from Lagado; where
there is a good port, and much commerce with the
great island of Luggnagg, situated to the north-west
about 29 degrees north latitude, and 140 longitude.
This island of Luggnagg stands south-eastward of Ja-
pan, about a hundred leagues distant. There is a strict
alliance between the Japanese emperor and the king
of Luggnagg, which affords frequent opportunities
of sailing from one island to the other. I determined
therefore to direct my course this way, in order to
my return to Europe. I hired two mules, with a
guide, to show me the way, and carry my small bag-
gage. I took leave of my noble protector, who had
shown me so much favour, and made me a generous
present at my departure.
My journey was without any accident or adventure
worth relating. When I arrived at the port of Mal-
donada, (for so it is called,) there was no ship in the
harbour bound for Luggnagg, nor likely to be in
some time. The town is about as large as Ports-
mouth. I soon fell into some acquaintance, and was
very hospitably received. A gentleman of distinc-
tion said to me, "That since the ships bound to
Luggnagg could not be ready in less than a month,
A burlesque on the report of the secret committee, who thus
apologised for the circumstantial evidence which they substituted
for proof.-See State Trials.
it might be no disagreeable amusement for me to
take a trip to the little island of Glubhdubdrib, about
five leagues off to the south-west." He offered
himself and a friend to accompany me, and that I
should be provided with a small convenient bark
for the voyage.
Glubbdubdrib, as nearly as I can interpret the
word, signifies the island of sorcerers or magicians.
It is about one third as large as the Isle of Wight,
and extremely fruitful: it is governed by the head
This
of a certain tribe, who are all magicians.
tribe marries only among each other, and the eldest
He has a noble
in succession is prince or governor.
palace, and a park of about three thousand acres,
surrounded by a wall of hewn stone twenty feet high.
In this park are several small enclosures for cattle,
corn, and gardening.
The governor and his family are served and at-
tended by domestics of a kind somewhat unusual.
By his skill in necromancy, he has a power of calling
whom he pleases from the dead, and commanding
their service for twenty-four hours, but no longer;
nor can he call the same persons up again in less
than three months, except upon very extraordinary
occasions.
When we arrived at the island, which was about
eleven in the morning, one of the gentlemen who
accompanied me went to the governor, and desired
admittance for a stranger, who came on purpose
to have the honour of attending on his highness.
This was immediately granted, and we all three
entered the gate of the palace between two rows
of guards, armed and dressed after a very antic
manner, and something in their countenances that
made my flesh creep with a horror I cannot express.
We passed through several apartments, between
servants of the same sort, ranked on each side as
before, till we came to the chamber of presence;
where, after three profound obeisances, and a few
general questions, we were permitted to sit on three
stools, near the lowest step of his highness's throne.
He understood the language of Balnibarbi, although
it were different from that of this island. He de-
sired me to give him some account of my travels;
and, to let me see that I should be treated without
ceremony, he dismissed all his attendants with a
turn of his finger; at which, to my great astonish-
ment, they vanished in an instant, like visions in a
dream when we awake on a sudden. I could not
recover myself in some time, till the governor assured
me "That I should receive no hurt:" and observing
my two companions to be under no concern, who
had been often entertained in the same manner, I
began to take courage, and related to his highness a
short history of my several adventures: yet not
without some hesitations, and frequently looking
behind me to the place where I had seen those
domestic spectres. I had the honour to dine with
the governor, where a new set of ghosts served up
the meat, and waited at table. I now observed my-
self to be less terrified than I had been in the morn-
ing. I stayed till sunset, but humbly desired his
highness to excuse me for not accepting his invitation
of lodging in the palace. My two friends and I lay
at a private house in the town adjoining, which is
the capital of this little island; and the next morn-
ing we returned to pay our duty to the governor, as
he was pleased to command us.
After this manner we continued in the island for
ten days, most part of every day with the governor,
and, at night in our lodging. I soon grew so
familiarised to the sight of spirits, that after the
third or fourth time they gave me no emotion at all;
or, if I had any apprehensions left, my curiosity pre-
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c.
53
ailed over them. For his highness the governor
ordered me "to call up whatever persons I would
choose to name, and in whatever numbers, among
all the dead from the beginning of the world to the
present time, and command them to answer any
questions I should think fit to ask; with this con-
dition, that my questions must be confined within
And one
the compass of the times they lived in.
thing I might depend upon, that they would certainly
tell me the truth, for lying was a talent of no use in
the lower world.'
I made my humble acknowledgments to bis high-
ness for so great a favour. We were in a chamber,
from whence there was a fair prospect into the park.
And because my first inclination was to be enter-
tained with scenes of pomp and magnificence, I
desired to see Alexander the Great at the head of
his army, just after the battle of Arbela; which,
upon a motion of the governor's finger, immediately
appeared in a large field, under the window where
we stood. Alexauder was
Alexander was called up into the room;
it was with great difficulty that I understood his
Greek, and had but little of my own. He assured
me upon his honour "That he was not poisoned,
but died of a bad fever by excessive drinking."
*
day on purpose. I proposed that Homer and Aris-
totle might appear at the head of all their commen
tators; but these were so numerous, that some hun-
dreds were forced to attend in the court, and out-
ward rooms of the palace. I knew, and could dis-
tinguish those two heroes, at first sight, not only
from the crowd, but from each other. Homer was
the taller and comelier person of the two, walked
very erect for one of his age, and his eyes were the
Aristotle
most quick and piercing I ever beheld.
stooped much, and made use of a staff.
His visage
was meagre, his hair lank and thin, and his voice
hollow.* I soon discovered that both of them were
perfect strangers to the rest of the company, and
had never seen or heard of them before. And I had
a whisper from a ghost, who shall be nameless,
That these commentators always kept in the most
distant quarters from their principals, in the lower
world, through a consciousness of shame and guilt,
because they had so horribly misrepresented the
meaning of those authors to posterity." I intro-
duced Didymus and Eustathius to Homer, and pre-
vailed on him to treat them better than perhaps they
deserved, for he soon found they wanted a genius
to enter into the spirit of a poet. But Aristotle was
out of all patience with the account I gave him of
Scotus and Ramus, as I presented them to him; and
Whether the rest of the tribe were
ne asked them,
as great dunces as themselves?"
Next, I saw Hannibal passing the Alps, who told
me, "He had not a drop of vinegar in his camp.'
I saw Cæsar and Pompey at the head of their
troops, just ready to engage. I saw the former in
his last great triumph. I desired that the senate of
I then desired the governor to call up Descartes
Rome might appear before me in one large chamber,
and Gassendi, with whom I prevailed to explain
and a modern representative in counterview, in ano-
their systems to Aristotle. This great philosopher
ther. The first seemed to be an assembly of heroes freely acknowledged his own mistakes in natural
and demi-gods; the other a knot of pedlars, pick-philosophy, because he proceeded in many things
pockets, highwaymen, and bullies.
The governor, at my request, gave the sign for
Cæsar and Brutus to advance towards us.
I was
struck with a profound veneration at the sight of
Brutus, and could easily discover the most cou-
summate virtue, the greatest intrepidity and firmness
of mind, the truest love of his country, and general
benevolence for mankind, in every lineament of his
countenance. I observed with much pleasure, that
these two persons were in good intelligence with
each other; and Cæsar freely confessed to me,
"That the greatest actions of his own life were not
equal, by many degrees, to the glory of taking it
away."
I had the honour to have much conversa-
tion with Brutus; and was told, "that his ancestor
Junius, Socrates, Epaminondas, Cato the younger,
Sir Thomas More, and himself, were perpetually
together" a sextumvirate, to which all the ages of
the world cannot add a seventh.
It would be tedious to trouble the reader with re-
lating what vast numbers of illustrious persons were
called up, to gratify that insatiable desire I had to
see the world in every period of antiquity placed be-
fore me. I chiefly fed mine eyes with beholding the
destroyers of tyrants and usurpers, and the restorers
of liberty to oppressed and injured nations. But it
is impossible to express the satisfaction I received in
my own mind, after such a manner, as to make it a
suitable entertainment to the reader.
CHAPTER VIII.
A further account of Glubbdubdrib. Ancient and modern
history corrected.
HAVING a desire to see those ancients who were
most renowned for wit and learning, I set apart one
Livy relates that Hannibal burnt a pile or wood upon a
rock that stopped his passage, and, when it was thus heated,
poured vinegar upon it, by which it was made so soft as to be
casily cut though.
upon conjecture, as all men must do; and he found,
that Gassendi, who had made the doctrine of Epi-
curus as palatable as he could, and the vortices of
Descartes were equally to be exploded.
He pre-
dicted the same fate to attraction, whereof the pre-
sent learned are such zealous asserters.
He said,
That new systems of nature were but new fashions,
which would vary in every age; and even those who
pretend to demonstrate them from mathematical
principles would flourish but a short period of time,
and be out of vogue when that was determined.'
I spent five days in conversing with many others
of the ancient learned. I saw most of the first Ro-
man emperors. I prevailed on the governor to call
up Eliogabalus's cooks to dress us a dinner, but they
could not show us much of their skill, for want of
materials. A helot of Agesilaus made us a dish of
Spartan broth, but I was not able to get down a
second spoonful.
The two gentlemen, who conducted me to the
island, were pressed by their private affairs to return
in three days, which I employed in seeing some of
the modern dead, who had made the greatest figure,
for two or three hundred years past, in our own and
other countries of Europe; and having been always
a great admirer of old illustrious families, I desired
the governor would call up a dozen or two of kings,
with their ancestors in order, for eight or nine gene-
rations. But my disappointment was grievous and
unexpected; for, instead of a long train, with royal
diadems, I saw in one family two fiddlers, three
spruce courtiers, and an Italian prelate. In another,
a barber, an abbot, and two cardinals. I have too
great a veneration for crowned heads to dwell any
longer on so nice a subject. But, as to counts, mar-
* The description of Aristotle represents the true nature of
his works. By not having the immortal spirit of Homer, ha
was unable to keep his body erect; an his staff, which feebly
supported him, like his commentators, made this defect mora
conspicuous.
2
1
A4
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
1
J
quises, dukes, earls, and the like, I was not so scru-
pulous. And I confess, it was not without some
pleasure that I found myself able to trace the parti-
cular features, by which certain families are distin-
guished, up to their originals. I could plainly dis-
cover whence one family derives a long chin; why
a second has abounded with knaves for two genera-
tions, and fools for two more; why a third happened
to be cracked-brained, and a fourth to be sharpers;
whence it came, what Polydore Virgil says of a cer-
tain great house, Nec vir fortis, nec fœmina casta;
how cruelty, falsehood, and cowardice, grew to be
characteristics, by which certain families are distin-
guished as much as by their coat of arms; who first
brought the pox into a noble house, which has line-
ally descended in scrofulous tumours to their poste-
rity. Neither could I wonder at all this, when I
saw such an interruption of lineages, by pages,
lackeys, valets, coachmen, gamesters, fiddlers, players,
captains and pickpockets.
I was chiefly disgusted with modern history; for
having strictly examined all the persons of greatest
name in the courts of princes, for an hundred years
past, I found how the world had been misled by
prostitute writers, to ascribe the greatest exploits in
war, to cowards; the wisest counsel, to fools; sin-
cerity, to flatterers; Roman virtue, to betrayers of
their country; piety to atheists; chastity to sodom-
ites; truth to informers: how many innocent and
excellent persons had been condemned to death or
banishment, by the practising of great ministers upon
the corruption of judges, and the malice of factions;
how many villains had been exalted to the highest
places of trust, power, dignity, and profit; how
great a share in the motions and events of courts,
counsels, and senates, might be challenged by bawds,
whores, pimps, parasites, and buffoons. How low
an opinion I had of human wisdom and integrity,
when I was truly informed of the springs and mo-
tives of great enterprises and revolutions in the
world, and of the contemptible accidents to which
they owed their success!
Here I discovered the roguery and ignorance of
those who pretend to write anecdotes or secret his-
tory; who send so many kings to their graves with
a cup of poison; will repeat the discourse between
a prince and chief minister, where no witness was
by; unlock the thoughts and cabinets of ambassa-
dors and secretaries of state; and have the perpe-
tual misfortune to be mistaken. Here I discovered
the true cause of many great events that have sur-
prised the world; how a whore can govern the back-
stairs, the back-stairs a council, and the council a
senate. A general confessed in my presence, "That
he got a victory purely by the force of cowardice and
ill-conduct;" and an admiral, "That, for want of
proper intelligence he beat the enemy, to whom he
intended to betray the fleet."* Three kings pro-
tested to me, That in their whole reigns they never
did once prefer any person of merit, unless by mis-
take, or treachery of some minister in whom they
confided; neither would they do it if they were
to live again ;" and they showed, with great strength
of reason, "That the royal throne could not be sup-
ported without corruption, because that positive,
confident, restive temper, which virtue infused into
a man, was a perpetual clog to public business."+
I had the curiosity to inquire, in a particular man-
ner, by what method great numbers had procured to
themselves high titles of honour, and prodigious
estates; and I confined my inquiry to a very modern
* Perhaps the Admiral Lord Russell.
The monarchs are Charles II., James II., and William III.
period; however, without grating upon present times,
because I would be sure to give no offence even to
foreigners, for I hope the reader need not to be told,
that I do not in the least intend my own country,
in what I say upon this occasion. A great number
of persons concerned were called up; and, upon
a very slight examination, discovered such a scene
of infamy, that I cannot reflect upon it without some
seriousness. Perjury, oppression, subornation, fraud,
panderism, and the like infirmities, were among the
most excusable arts they had to mention; and for
these I gave, as it was reasonable, great allowance
But when some confessed they owed their greatness
to sodomy, or incest; others, to the prostituting of
their wives and daughters; others, to the betraying
of their country or their prince; some, to poisoning;
more, to the perverting of justice, in order to destroy
the innocent; I hope I may be pardoned, if these
discoveries inclined me a little to abate of that pro-
found veneration, which I am naturally apt to pay to
persons of high rank, who ought to be treated with
the utmost respect due to their sublime dignity, by
us their inferiors.
I had often read of some great services done to
princes and states, and desired to see the persons by
whom those services were performed. Upon inquiry,
I was told, "That their names were to be found on
no record, except a few of them, whom history has
represented as the vilest of rogues and traitors." As
to the rest, I had never once heard of them. They
all appeared with dejected looks, and in the meanest
habit; most of them telling me, They died in
poverty and disgrace, and the rest on a scaffold or a
gibbet.'
""
Among others, there was one person, whose case
appeared a little singular. He had a youth about
eighteen years old standing by his side. He told
me, "He had for many years been commander of a
ship; and in the sea-fight at Actium had the good
fortune to break through the enemy's great line of
battle, sink three of their capital ships, and take a
fourth, which was the sole cause of Antony's flight,
and of the victory that ensued; that the youth stand-
ing by him, his only son, was killed in the action."
He added, "That upon the confidence of some merit,
the war being at an end, he went to Rome, and
solicited at the court of Augustus to be preferred to
a greater ship, whose commander had been killed;
but, without any regard to his pretensions, it was
given to a boy who had never seen the sea, the son
of Libertina, who waited on one of the emperor's
mistresses. Returning back to his own vessel, he
was charged with neglect of duty, and the ship given
to a favourite page of Publicola, the vice-admiral;
whereupon he retired to a poor farm at a great dis-
tance from Rome, and there ended his life." I was
so curious to know the truth of this story, that I
desired Agrippa might be called, who was admiral
in that fight. He appeared, and confirmed the whole
account: but with much more advantage to the
captain, whose modesty had extenuated or concealed
a great part of his merit.
I was surprised to find corruption grown so high
and so quick in that empire, by the force of luxury
so lately introduced, which made me less wonder at
many parallel cases in other countries, where vices of
all kinds have reigned so much longer, and where
the whole praise as well as pillage, has been en-
grossed by the chief commander, who, perhaps, had
the least title to either.
As every person called up made exactly the same
appearance he had done in the world, it gave me
melancholy reflections to observe how much the
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c.
53
race of humankind was degenerated among us,
within these hundred years past. How the pox,
under all its consequences and denominations, had
altered every lineament of an English countenance,
shortened the size of the bodies, unbraced the nerves,
relaxed the sinews and muscles, introduced a sallow
complexion, and rendered the flesh loose and
rancid.
I descended so low as to desire some English
yeomen of the old stamp might be summoned to
appear, once so famous for the simplicity of their
nanners, diet, and dress; for justice in their deal-
ings;
for their true spirit of liberty; for their valour,
and love of their country. Neither could I be wholly
unmoved after comparing the living with the dead,
when I considered how all these pure native virtues
were prostituted for a piece of money by their grand-
children, who, in selling their votes, and managing
at elections, have acquired every vice and corruption
that can possibly be learned in a court.
CHAPTER IX.
The author returns to Maldonada. Sails to the kingdom of
Luggnagg. The author confined. He is sent for to court.
The manner of his admittance. The king's great lenity to
his subjects.
THE day of our departure being come, I took leave
of his highness, the Governor of Glubbdubdrid, and
returned with my two companions to Maldonada,
where, after a fortnight's waiting, a ship was ready
to sail for Luggnagg. The two gentlemen, and some
others, were so generous and kind as to furnish me
with provisions, and see me on board. I was a
month in this voyage. We had one violent storm,
and were under a necessity of steering westward, to
get into the trade-wind, which holds for above sixty
leagues. On the 21st of April, 1708, we sailed into
the river of Clumegnig, which is a sea-port town at
the south-east point of Luggnagg. We cast anchor
within a league of the town, and made a signal for a
pilot. Two of them came on board in less than half
an hour, by whom we were guided between certain
shoals and rocks, which are very dangerous in the
passage, to a large basin, where a fleet may ride in
safety within a cable's length of the town-wall.
I was invited by several persons, chiefly out of curi-
osity, because it was reported that I came from
countries very remote, of which they had never
heard.
I hired a young man, who came in the same ship,
to be an interpreter; he was a native of Luggnagg,
but had lived some years at Maldonada, and was a
perfect master of both languages. By his assist-
ance, I was able to hold a conversation with those
who came to visit me; but this consisted only of their
questions, and my answers.
The dispatch came from court about the time we
expected. It contained a warrant for conducting
me and my retinue to Traldragdubh or Trildrogdrib,
for it is pronounced both ways, as near as I can re-
member, by a party of ten horse. All my retinue
was that poor lad for an interpreter, whom I per-
suaded into my service, and at my humble request
we had each of us a mule to ride on. A messenger
was dispatched half a day's journey before us, to give
the king notice of my approach, and to desire “That
his majesty would please to appoint a day and hour,
when it would be his gracious pleasure that I might
have the honour to lick the dust before his foct-
stool." This is the court style, and I found it to be
more than matter of form. For, upon my admittance,
two days after my arrival, I was commanded to
crawl upon my belly, and lick the floor as I advan-
ced; but on account of my being a stranger care was
taken to have it made so clean that the dust was not
offensive. However this was a peculiar grace not
allowed to any but persons of the highest rank, when
they desire an admittance. Nay, sometimes the
floor is strewed with dust on purpose, when the
person to be admitted happens to have powerful
enemies at court. And I have seen a great lord
with his mouth so crammed, that when he had crept
to the proper distance from the throne, he was not
able to speak a word. Neither is there any remedy,
because it is capital for those who receive an au-
dience to spit or wipe their mouths in his majesty's
presence. There is indeed another custom which I
cannot altogether approve of; when the king has a
mind to put any of his nobles to death in a gentle,
indulgent manner, he commands the floor to be
strewed with a certain brown powder of a deadly
composition, which, being licked up, infallibly kills
him in twenty-four hours. But in justice to this
prince's great clemency, and the care he has of his
subjects' lives, (wherein it were much to be wished
that the monarchs of Europe would imitate him,)
it must be mentioned for his honour, that strict
orders are given to have the infected parts of the floor
well washed after every such execution; which, if
his domestics neglect, they are in danger of incur-
ring his royal displeasure. I myself heard him give
directions that one of his pages should be whipped,
whose turn it was to give notice about washing the
floor after an execution, but maliciously had omitted
it; by which neglect, a young lord of great hopes
coming to an audience, was unfortunately poisoned,
although the king at that time had no design against
his life. But this good prince was so gracious
as to forgive the poor page his whipping, upon
promise that he would do so no more, without
special orders.
Some of our sailors, whether out of treachery or
inadvertence, had informed the pilots, "That I was
a stranger and a great traveller; whereof these gave
notice to a custom-house officer, by whom I was
examined very strictly upon my landing. This
officer spoke to me in the language of Balnibarbi,
which, by the force of much commerce, is generally
understood in that town, especially by seamen and
those employed in the customs. I gave him a short
account of some particulars, and made my story as
plausible and consistent as I could; but I thought it
necessary to disguise my country, and call myself a
Hollander, because my intentions were for Japan,
and I knew the Dutch were the only Europeans per-
mitted to enter into that kingdom. I therefore told
the officer, "That having been shipwrecked on the
coast of Balnibarbi and cast on a rock, I was received
up into Laputa, or the Flying Island, (of which he
had often heard,) and was now endeavouring to
get to Japan, whence I might find a convenience of
returning to my own country." The officer said, I To return from this digression; when I had crept
must be confined till he could receive orders from within four yards of the throne, I raised myself
court, for which he would write immediately, and gently upon my knees, and then striking my fore-
hoped to receive an answer in a fortnight." I was head seven times against the ground, I pronounced
carried to a convenient lodging, with a sentry placed the following words, as they had been taught me the
at the door; however, I had the liberty of a large night before, Inckpling gloffthrobb squút scrumm
garden, and was treated with humanity enough, blhiop mlashnalt zwin tnodbalkuffhslhiophad gurd-
being maintained all the time at the king's charge. | lubh asht. This is the compliment, established by
|
56
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
the laws of the land, for all persons admitted to the
king's presence. It may be rendered into English
thus : 66
May your celestial majesty outlive the sun.
eleven moons and a half!" To this the king re-
turned some answer, which, although I could not
understand, yet I replied as I had been directed :
Flute drin yalerick dwuldom prastrad mirpush,
which properly signifies "My tongue is in the mouth
of my friend ;" and, by this expression was meant,
that I desired leave to bring my interpreter; where-
upon the young man already mentioned was accord-
ingly introduced, by whose intervention I answered.
as many questions as his majesty could put in
above an hour. I spoke in the Balnibarbian tongue,
and my interpreter delivered my meaning in that of
Luggnagg.
The king was much delighted with my company, and
ordered his bliffmarklub, or high chamberlain, to ap-
point a lodging in the court for me and my inter-
preter, with a daily allowance for my table, and a
large purse of gold for my common expenses.
I stayed three months in this country, out of per-
fect obedience to his majesty, who was pleased highly
to favour me, and made me very honourable offers.
But I thought it more consistent with prudence and
justice to pass the remainder of my days with my
wife and family.
CHAPTER X.
The Luggnaggians commended. A particular description of
the Struldbrugs, with many conversations between the
author and some eminent persons upou that subject.
THE Luggnaggians are a polite and generous people;
and, although they are not without some share of
that pride which is peculiar to all eastern countries,
yet they shew themselves courteous to strangers, es-
pecially such who are countenanced by the court. I
had many acquaintance, and among persons of the
best fashion, and being always attended by my in-
terpreter, the conversation we had was not disa-
greeable.
"I had
"What
One day, in much good company, I was asked by
a person of quality, "Whether I had seen any of
their struldbrugs, or immortals ?" I said,
not;" and desired he would explain to me,
he meant by such an appellation, applied to a mortal
creature." He told me, "That sometimes, though
very rarely, a child happened to be born in a family
with a red circular spot in the forehead, directly over
the left eyebrow, which was an infallible mark that
it should never die. The spot," as he described it,
"was about the compass of a silver threepence, but
in the course of time grew larger, and changed its
colour; for at twelve years old it became green, so
continued till five-and-twenty, and then turning to
a deep blue at five-and-forty it grew coal-black,
and as large as an English shilling, but never ad-
mitted any further alteration.” He said, "These
births were so rare, that he did not believe that there
could be above eleven hundred struldbrugs, of both
sexes, in the whole kingdom, of which he computed
above fifty in the metropolis, and, among the rest, a
young girl born about three years ago; that these
productions were not peculiar to any family, but a
mere effect of chance, and the children of the struld-
brugs themselves were equally mortal with the rest
of the people."
I freely own myself to have been struck with in-
expressible delight upon hearing this account: and
the person who gave it me happening to understand
the Balnibarbian language, which I spoke very
well, I could not forbear breaking out into expres-
gious perhaps a little too extravagant. I cried out,
as in a rapture, "Happy nation, where every child
has a chance for being immortal! Happy people,
who enjoy so many living examples of ancient virtue,
and have masters ready to instruct them in the wisdom
of all former ages! but happiest, beyond all compa-
rison, are those excellent struldbrugs, who, being born
exempt from that universal calamity of human nature,
have their minds free and disengaged, without the
weight and depression of spirits caused by the con-
tinual apprehension of death !" I discovered my
admiration," that I had not observed any of these
illustrious persons at court! the black spot on the
forehead being so remarkable a distinction, that I
could not have easily overlooked it; and it was im-
possible that his majesty, a most judicious prince,
should not provide himself with a good number of
such wise and able counsellors. Yet perhaps the
virtue of those reverend sages was too strict for the
corrupt and libertine manners of a court.
And we
often find by experience, that young men are too
opinionated and volatile to be guided by the sober
dictates of their seniors. However, since the king
was pleased to allow me access to his royal person,
I was resolved, upon the very first occasion, to de-
liver my opinion to him on this matter freely and at
large, by the help of my interpreter; and whether
he would please to take my advice or not, yet in one
thing I was determined, that his majesty having fre-
quently offered me an establishment in this country
I would, with great thankfulness, accept the favour,
and pass my life here in the conversation of those
superior beings, the struldbrugs, if they would please
to admit me."
The gentleman to whom I addressed my dis-
course, because (as I have already observed) he
spoke the language of Balnibarbi, said to me,
with a sort of smile, which usually arises from
pity to the ignorant, "That he was glad of any
occasion to keep me among them, and desired
my permission to explain to the company what
I had spoke." He did so, and they talked together
for some time in their own language, whereof I un-
derstood not a syllable, neither could I observe by
their countenances what impression my discourse
had made on them. After a short silence, the same
person told me, "That his friends and mine (so he
thought fit to express himself) were very much
pleased with the judicious remarks I had made on
the great happiness and advantages of immortal life,
and they were desirous to know, in a particular
manner, what scheme of living I should have formed
to myself, if it had fallen to my lot to have been
born a struldbrug.”
I answered, It was easy to be eloquent on so
copious and delightful a subject, especially to me;
who had been often apt to amuse myself, with visions
of what I should do if I were a king, a general, or
a great lord and upon this very case I had fre-
quently run over the whole system how I should
employ myself, and pass the time if I were sure to
live for ever.
"That if it had been my good fortune to come
into the world a struldbrug, as soon as I could dis-
cover my own happiness, by understanding the dif-
ference between life and death, I would first resolve,
by all arts and methods whatsoever to procure my-
self riches. In the pursuit of which, by thrift and
management, I might reasonably expect in about two
hundred years to be the wealthiest man in the
kingdom. In the second place I would from my
carliest youth apply myself to the study of arts and
sciences, by which I should arrive in time to excel
all others in learning. Lastly, I would carefully
record every action and event of consequence, that
A VOYAGE TO LAPUTA, &c.
57
happened in the public, impartially draw the cha-
rastors of the several successions of princes and
grea. ministers of state, with my own observations
on every point. I would exactly set down the several
changes in customs, language, fashions of dress, diet,
and diversions. By all which acquirements, I should
be a living treasure of knowledge and wisdom, and
certainly become the oracle of the nation.
"I would never marry after threescore, but live
in a hospitable manner, yet still on the saving side.
I would entertain myself in forming and directing
the minds of hopeful young men, by convincing
them from my own remembrance, experience and
observation, fortified by numerous examples, of the
usefulness of virtue in public and private life. But
my choice and constant companions should be a set
of my own immortal brotherhood; among whom I
would elect a dozen from the most ancient, down to
my own contemporaries. Where any of these
wanted fortunes, I would provide them with con-
venient lodges round my own estate, and have some
of them always at my table; only mingling a few of
the most valuable among you mortals whom length
of time would harden me to lose with little or no
reluctance, and treat your posterity after the same
manner; just as a man diverts himself with the
annual succession of pinks and tulips in his garden,
without regretting the loss of those which withered
the preceding year,
ter to me, that I received it as a thing wholly new,
and scarcely to be credited. That in the two king-
doms above mentioned, where during his residence
he had conversed very much, he observed long life
to be the universal desire and wish of mankind.
That whoever had one foot in the grave was sure
to hold back the other as strongly as he could. That
the oldest had still hopes of living one day longer,
and looked on death as the greatest evil, from which
nature always prompted him to retreat. Only in this
island of Luggnagg the appetite for living was not
so eager, from the continual example of the struld-
brugs before their eyes.
That the system of living contrived by me was
unreasonable and unjust, because it supposed a per-
petuity of youth, health, and vigour, which no man
could be so foolish to hope, however extravagant he
may be in his wishes. That the question therefore
was not, whether a man would choose to be always
in the prime of youth attended with prosperity and
health; but how he would pass a perpetual life,
under all the usual disadvantages which old age
brings along with it. For although few men will
arow their desires of being immortal, upon such
hard conditions, yet in the two kingdoms before men-
tioned, of Balnibarbi and Japan, he observed that
every man desired to put off death some time longer,
let it approach ever so late; and he rarely heard of
any man who died willingly, except he were incited
"These struldbrugs and I would mutually com- by the extremity of grief or torture. And he ap
municate our observations and memorials, through pealed to me, whether in those countries I had tra-
the course of time; remark the several gradationsvelled, as well as my own, I had not observed the
by which corruption steals into the world, and op-
pose it in every step, by giving perpetual warning
and instruction to mankind; which, added to the
strong influence of our own example, would probably
prevent that continual degeneracy of human nature,
so justly complained of in all ages.
same general disposition."
After this preface, he gave me a particular account
of the struldbrugs among them.
He said, They
commonly acted like mortals, till about thirty years
old, after which by degrees they grew melancholy
and dejected, increasing in both till they came to
fourscore. This he learned from their own confes-
sion for otherwise, there not being above two or
three of that species born in an age, they were too
few to form a general observation by. When they
came to fourscore years, which is reckoned the ex-
tremity of living in this country, they had not only
all the follies and infirmities of other old men, but
many more, which arose from the dreadful prospect
of never dying. They were not only opinionative,
peevish, covetous, morose, vain, talkative, but inca-
Add to all this the pleasure of seeing the various
revolutions of states and empires; the changes in
the lower and upper world; ancient cities in ruins,
and obscure villages become the seats of kings:
famous rivers lessening into shallow brooks; the
ocean leaving one coast dry and overwhelming ano-
ther; the discovery of many countries yet unknown;
barbarity overrunning the politest nations, and the
most barbarous become civilised. I should then see
the discovery of the longitude, the perpetual motion,
the universal medicine, and many other great inven-pable of friendship, and dead to all natural affection,
tions, brought to the utmost perfection.
"What wonderful discoveries should we make in
astronomy, by outliving and confirming our own
predictions; by observing the progress and returns
of comets, with the changes of motion in the sun,
moon, and stars!"
I enlarged upon many other topics, which the
natural desire of endless life, and sublunary happi-
ness could easily furnish me with. When I had
ended, and the sum of my discourse had been inter-
preted, as before to the rest of the company, there was
great deal of talk among them in the language of the
country, not without some laughter at my expense.
At last the same gentleman who had been my inter-
preter said, "He was desired by the rest to set me
right in a few mistakes which I had fallen into
through the common imbecility of human nature,
and upon that allowance was less answerable for
them. That this breed of struldbrugs was peculiar
to their country, for there were no such people either
in Baluibarbi or Japan, where he had the honour to be
ambassador from his majesty, and found the natives
in both those kingdoms very hard to believe that
the fact was possible: and it appeared from my
astonishment when he had first mentioned the mat-
|
which never descended below their grand-children.
Envy and impotent desires are their prevailing pas-
sions. But those objects against which their envy
scems principally directed are the vices of the
younger sort, and the deaths of the old. By reflect-
ing on the former, they find themselves cut off from
all possibility of pleasure: and whenever they see a
funeral, they lament and repine that others are goue
to a harbour of rest to which they themselves never
can hope to arrive. They have no remembrance of
anything, but what they learned and observed in
their youth and middle age, and even that is very
imperfect. And for the truth or particulars of any
fact, it is safer to depend on common tradition, than
upon their best recollections. The least miserable
among them appear to be those who turn to dotage
and entirely lose their memories; these meet with
more pity and assistance because they want many
bad qualities which abound in others.
"If a struldbrug happen to marry one of his own
kind, the marriage is dissolved of course, by the
courtesy of the kingdom, as soon as the younger of
the two comes to be fourscore. For the law thinks
it a reasonable indulgence that those who are con
demned, without any fault of their own, to a per-
08
GULIIVER'S TRAVELS.
petual continuance in the world should not have
their misery doubled by the load of a wife.
"As soon as they have completed the term of
eighty years they are looked on as dead in law;
their heirs immediately succeed to their estates, only
a small pittance is reserved for their support; and
the poor ones are maintained at the public charge.
After that period they are held incapable of any em-
ployment of trust or profit; they cannot purchase
lands, or take leases; neither are they allowed to be
witnesses in any cause either civil or criminal, not
even for the decision of meers and bounds.
"At ninety they lose their teeth and hair; they
have at that age no distinction of taste, but eat and
drink whatever they can get, without relish or ap-
petite. The diseases they were subject to still con-
tinue, without increasing or diminishing. In talking
they forget the common appellation of things, and
the names of persons, even of those who are their
nearest friends and relations. For the same reason
they never can amuse themselves with reading, be-
cause their memory will not serve to carry them
from the beginning of a sentence to the end; and by
this defect, they are deprived of the only entertain-
ment whereof they might otherwise be capable.
"The language of this country being always upon
the flux, the struldbrugs of one age do not under-
stand those of another; neither are they able, after
two hundred years, to hold any conversation (further
than by a few general words) with their neighbours
the mortals; and thus they lie under the disadvan-
tage of living like foreigners in their own country."
This was the account given me of the struldbrugs,
as near as I can remember. I afterwards saw five
or six of different ages, the youngest not above two
hundred years old, who were brought to me at seve-
ral times by some of my friends; but although they
were told "That I was a great traveller, and had
seen all the world," they had not the least curiosity
to ask me a question; only desired "I would give
them slumskudask, or a token of remembrance;"
which is a modest way of begging, to avoid the law,
that strictly forbids it, because they are provided for
by the public, although indeed with a scanty allow-
ance.
They are despised and hated by all sorts of people.
When one of them is born, it is reckoned ominous,
and their birth is recorded very particularly so that
you may know their age by consulting the register,
which however has not been kept above a thousand
years past, or at least has been destroyed by time or
public disturbances. But the usual way of comput-
ing how old they are is by asking them what kings
or great persons they can remember, and then con-
sulting history; for infallibly the last prince in their
mind did not begin his reign after they were four
score years old.
They were the most mortifying sight I ever be-
held; and the women more horrible than the men.
Besides the usual deformities in extreme old age,
they acquired an additional ghastliness, in propor-
tion to their number of years, which is not to be
described; and among half a dozen, I soon distin-
guished which was the eldest, although there was
not above a century or two between them.
The reader will easily believe, that from what I had
heard and seen, my keen appetite for perpetuity of
life was much abated. I grew heartily ashamed of
the pleasing visions I had formed, and thought no
tyrant could invent a death into which I would not
run with pleasure from such a life. The king heard
of all that had passed between me and my friends.
upon this occasion, and rallied me very pleasantly;
wishing I could send a couple of struldbrugs to my
own country, to arm our people against the fear o
death; but this it seems is forbidden by the funda-
mental laws of the kingdom, or else I should have
been well content with the trouble and expense of
transporting them.
I could not but agree, that the laws of this king-
dom relative to the struldbrugs, were founded upon
the strongest reasons, and such as any other country
would be under the necessity of enacting, in the
like circumstances. Otherwise, as avarice is the
necessary consequent of old age, those immortals
would in time become proprietors of the whole
nation, and engross the civil power, which, for want
of abilities to manage, must end in the ruin of the
public.
CHAPTER XI.
The author leaves Luggnagg, and sails to Japan. From
thence he returns in a Dutch ship to Amsterdam, and from
Amsterdam to England.
I THOUGHT this account of the struldbrugs might
be some entertainment to the reader, because it
seems to be a little out of the common way; at least
I do not remember to have met the like in any book
of travels that has come to my hands: and if I am
deceived, my excuse must be, that it is necessary for
travellers, who describe the same country, very often
to agree in dwelling on the same particulars, with-
out deserving the censure of having borrowed or
transcribed from those who wrote before them.
There is indeed a perpetual commerce between
this kingdom and the great empire of Japan; and it
is very probable that the Japanese authors may have
given some account of the struldbrugs; but my stay
in Japan was so short, and I was so entirely a
stranger to the language, that I was not qualified to
make any inquiries. But I hope the Dutch upou
this notice will be curious and able enough to supply
my defects.
His majesty having often pressed me to accept
some employment in his court, and finding me ab-
solutely determined to return to my native country,
was pleased to give me his licence to depart, and
honoured me with a letter of recommendation, under
his own hand, to the Emperor of Japan. He like-
wise presented me with four hundred and forty-four
large pieces of gold, (this nation delighted in even
numbers,) and a red diamond, which I sold in Eng-
land for eleven hundred pounds.
On the 6th of May, 1709, I took a solemn leave
of his majesty and all my friends. This prince was
so gracious as to order a guard to conduct me to
Glanguenstald, which is a royal port to the south-
west part of the island. In six days I found a ves-
sel ready to carry me to Japan, and spent fifteen
days in the voyage. We landed at a small port-town
called Xamoschi, situated on the south-east part of
Japan; the town lies on the western point, where
there is a narrow strait leading northward into a long
arm of the sea, upon the north-west part of which
Yedo the metropolis stands. At landing, I showed
the custom-house officers my letter from the King
of Luggnagg to his imperial majesty. They knew
the seal perfectly well; it was as broad as the palm
of my hand. The impression was, "A hing lifting
up a lame beggar from the earth." The magis-
trates of the town, hearing of my letter, received me
as a public minister; they provided me with car-
riages and servants, and bore my charges to Yedo;
where I was admitted to an audience, and delivered
my letter, which was opened with great ceremony,
and explained to the emperor by an interpreter ;
who then gave me notice, by his majesty's orders
"That I should signify my request, and whatever it
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
59
were it should be granted, for the sake of his royal
brother of Luggnagg." This interpreter was a per-
son employed to transact affairs with the Hollanders:
he soon conjectured, by my countenance, that I was
an European, and therefore repeated his majesty's
commands in low Dutch, which he spoke perfectly
well.
I answered, as I had before determined,
had before determined,
"That I was a Dutch merchant, shipwrecked in a
very remote country, whence I had travelled by sea
and land to Luggnagg, and then took shipping for
Japan; where I knew my countrymen often traded,
and with some of these I hoped to get an oppor-
tunity of returning into Europe: I therefore most
humbly entreated his royal favour, to give order
that I should be conducted in safety to Nangasac."
To this I added another petition, "That for the
sake of my patron the king of Luggnagg, his ma-
jesty would condescend to excuse my performing
the ceremony imposed on my countrymen, of tramp-
ling on the crucifix; because I had been thrown into
his kingdom by my misfortunes, without any in-
tention of trading." When this latter petition was
interpreted to the emperor he seemed a little sur-
prised, and said, "He believed I was the first of my
countrymen who ever made any scruple in this
point; and that he began to doubt whether I was a
real Hollander or not; but rather suspected I must
be a christian. However, for the reasons I had
offered, but chiefly to gratify the king of Luggnagg,
by an uncommon mark of his favour, he would
comply with the singularity of my humour; but the
affair must be managed with dexterity, and his
officers should be commanded to let me pass, as it
were by forgetfulness. For he assured me, that if
the secret should be discovered by my countrymen
the Dutch, they would cut my throat in the voyage."
I returned my thanks, by the interpreter, for so
unusual a favour; and some troops being at that
time on their march to Nangasac, the commanding
officer had orders to convey me safe thither, with
particular instructions about the business of the
crucifix.
of 450 tous.
sac, after a very long and troublesome journey. I
soon fell into the company of some Dutch sailors be-
longing to the Amboyna of Amsterdam, a stout ship
I had lived long iu Holland, pursuing
my studies at Leyden, and I spoke Dutch well. The
seamen soon knew whence I came last; they were
curious to inquire into my voyages and course o
life. I made up a story as short and probable as I
could, but concealed the greatest part. I knew
many persons in Holland; I was able to invent
names for my parents, whom I pretended to be ob-
I
scure people in the province of Gelderland.
would have given the captain (one Theodorus Van-
grult) what he pleased to ask for my voyage to Hol-
land; but understanding I was a surgeon, he was
contented to take half the usual rate, on condition
that I would serve him in the way of my calling.
Before we took shipping I was often asked by some
of the crew "Whether I had performed the cere-
I evaded the question by
mony above mentioned ""
"That I had satisfied the emperor
general answers;
and court in all particulars.' However, a malicious
rogue of a skipper went to an officer, and, pointing
to me, told him "I had not yet trampled on the
crucifix;" but the other, who had received instruc-
tions to let me pass, gave the rascal twenty strokes
on the shoulders with a bamboo; after which I was
no more troubled with such questions.
water.
Nothing happened worth mentioning in this
voyage. We sailed with a fair wind to the Cape of
Good Hope, where we stayed only to take in fresh
On the 10th of April, 1710, we arrived safe
at Amsterdam, having lost only three men by sick-
ness in the voyage, and a fourth, who fell from the fore-
mast into the sea, not far from the coast of Guinea,
From Amsterdam I soon after set sail for England,
in a small vessel belonging to that city.
I
On the 16th of April we put in at the Downs.
landed next morning, and saw once more my native
country, after an absence of five years and six months
complete. I went straight to Redriff, where I ar-
rived the same day at two in the afternoon, and
On the 9th day June, 1709, I arrived at Nanga- found my wife and family in good health,
PART THE FOURTH.
A VOYAGE TO THE COUNTRY OF THE HOUYHNHNMS.
CHAPTER I.
The author sets out as captain of a ship. His men conspire
against him; confine him a long time to his cabin; set
him on shore in an unknown land. He travels up into the
country. The Yahoos, a strange sort of animal, de-
scribed. The author meets two Houyhnhnms.
I
I CONTINUED at home with my wife and children
about five months, in a very happy condition, if I
could have learned the lesson of knowing when I
was well. I left my poor wife big with child, and
accepted an advantageous offer made me to be cap-
tain of the Adventure, a stout merchantman of 350
tons: for I understood navigation well, and being
grown weary of a surgeon's employment at sea,
which however I could exercise upon occasion,
took a skilful young man of that calling, one Robert
Purefoy, into my ship. We set sail from Ports-
mouth upon the 7th day of September, 1710; on the
14th, we met with Captain Pocock of Bristol, at
Teneriffe, who was going to the Bay of Campeachy
to cut logwood. On the 16th he was parted from
ue by a storm. I heard, since my return, that his ship
foundered, and none escaped but one cabin-boy.
He was an honest man and a good sailor, but a
little too positive in his own opinions, which was
the cause of his destruction, as it had been of several
others; for, if he had followed my advice, he might
have been safe at home with his family at this time,
as well as myself,
I had several men died in my ship of calentures,
so that I was forced to get recruits out of Barbadoes
and the Leeward Islands, where I touched, by the
direction of the merchants who employed me;
which I had soon too much cause to repent; for I
found afterwards that most of them had been buc-
caneers. I had fifty hands on board, and my
orders were, that I should trade with the Indians
in the South Sea, and make what discoveries
I could. These rogues, whom I had picked up,
debauched my other men, and they all formed a
conspiracy to seize the ship, and secure me; which
they did one morning, rushing into my cabin, and
binding me hand and foot, and threatening to throw
me overboard if I offered to stir. I told them "I
was their prisoner, and would submit." This they
made me swear to do, and then they unbound me,
60
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
only fastening one of my legs with a chain, near my
bed, and placed a sentry at my door with his piece
charged, who was commanded to shoot me dead if
I attempted my liberty. They sent me down vic-
tuals and drink, and took the government of the
ship to themselves. Their design was to turn
pirates and plunder the Spaniards, which they
could not do till they got more men. But first they
resolved to sell the goods in the ship, and then go
to Madagascar* for recruits, several among them
having died since my confinement. They sailed
many weeks and traded with the Indians; but I
knew not what course they took, being kept a close.
prisoner in my cabin, and expecting nothing less
than to be murdered, as they often threatened me.
Upon the 9th day of May, 1711, one James Welch
came down to my cabin and said "he had orders
from the captain to set me ashore.” I expostulated
with him, but in vain; neither would he so much as
tell me who their new captain was. They forced
me into the long-boat, letting me put on my best
suit of clothes, which were as good as new, and take
a small bundle of linen, but no arms except my
hanger; and they were so civil as not to search my
pockets into which I conveyed what money I had,
with some other little necessaries. They rowed
about a league, and then set me down on a strand.
I desired them to tell me what country it was. They
all swore they knew no more than myself; but
said, that the captain (as they called him) was re-
solved, after they had sold the lading, to get rid of
me in the first place where they could discover
land. They pushed off immediately, advising me
to make haste for fear of being overtaken by the
tide, and so bade me farewell.
I
In this desolate condition I advanced forward,
and soon got upon firm ground, where I sat down
on a bank to rest myself and consider what I had
best do. When I was a little refreshed I went up
into the country, resolving to deliver myself to the
first savages I should meet, and purchase my life
from them by some bracelets, glass rings, and other
toys, which sailors usually provide themselves with
in these voyages, and whereof I had some about me.
The land was divided by long rows of trees not
regularly planted, but naturally growing; there was
great plenty of grass, and several fields of oats.
walked very circumspectly for fear of being sur-
prised, or suddenly shot with an arrow from behind,
or on either side. I fell into a beaten road, where I
saw many tracks of human fect, and some of cows,
but most of horses. At last I beheld several animals
in a field, and one or two of the same kind sitting in
trees. Their shape was very singular and deformed,
which a little discomposed me, so that I lay down be-
hind a thicket, to observe them better. Some of
them coming forward near the place where I lay,
gave me an opportunity of distinctly marking their
form. Their heads and breasts were covered with a
thick hair, some frizzled, and others lank; they had
beards like goats, and a long ridge of hair down
their backs and the fore parts of their legs and feet ;
but the rest of their bodies was bare, so that I might
see their skins, which were of a brown buff colour.
They had no tails, nor any hair at all on their but-
tocks, except about the anus; which, I presume,
nature had placed there to defend them, as they sat
on the ground; for this posture they used as well as
lying down, and often stood on their hind-feet.
They climbed high trees as nimbly as a squirrel, for
they had strong extended claws before and behind,
terminating in sharp points, and hooked. They
would often spring, and bound, and leap, with pro-
* An island resorted to by the pirates called Buccancers.
me.
digious agility. The females were not so large as
the males; they had long lank hair on their head.
but none on their faces, nor anything more than a
sort of down on the rest of their bodies, except
about the anus and pudenda. The dugs hung be-
tween their fore-feet, and often reached almost to
the ground as they walked. The hair of both sexes
was of several colours, brown, red, black, and yellow.
Upon the whole, I never beheld in all my travels so
disagreeable an animal, or one against which I na-
turally conceived so great an antipathy. So that
thinking I had seen enough, full of contempt and
aversion, I got up and pursued the beaten road,
hoping it might direct me to the cabin of some In-
dian.
I had not got far when I met one of these
creatures full in my way, and coming up directly to
The ugly monster when he saw me, distorted
several ways every feature of his visage, and started
as at an object he had never seen before; then ap-
proaching nearer, lifted up his fore-paw, whether
out of curiosity or mischief Iould not tell; but I
drew my hanger and gave him a good blow with the
flat side of it, for I durst not strike with the edge,
fearing the inhabitants might be provoked against
me, if they should come to know that I had killed
or maimed any of their cattle. When the beast felt
the smart, he drew back and roared so loud, that a
herd of at least forty came flocking about me from
the next field, howling, and making odious faces;
but I ran to the body of a tree, and leaning my back
against it, kept them off by waving my hanger.
Several of this cursed brood getting hold of the
branches behind, leapt up into the tree, whence
they began to discharge their excrements on my
head; however, I escaped pretty well by sticking
close to the stem of the tree, but was almost stifled
with the filth, which fell about me on every side.
In the midst of this distress, I observed them all
to run away on a sudden as fast as they could; at
which I ventured to leave the tree and pursue the
road, and wondering what it was that could put
them into this fright. But looking on my left hand,
I saw a horse walking softly in the field, which my
persecutors having sooner discovered, was the cause
of their flight. The horse started a little when he
came near me, but soon recovering himself, looked
full in my face with manifest tokens of wonder. He
viewed my hands and feet, walking round me seve-
ral times. I would have pursued my journey, but
he placed himself directly in the way, yet looking
with very mild aspect, never offering the least vio-
lence. We stood gazing at each other for some
time; at last I took the boldness to reach my hand.
towards his neck, with a design to stroke it, using
the common style and whistle of jockeys when they
are going to handle a strange horse. But this ani-
mal seemed to receive my civilities with disdain,
shook his head and bent his brows, softly raising up
his right fore-foot to remove my hand. Then he
neighed three or four times, but in so different a
cadence, that I almost began to think he was speak-
ing to himself in some language of his own.
While he and I were thus employed, another
horse came up, who applying himself to the first in
a very formal manner, they gently struck each
other's right hoof before, neighing several times by
turns, and varying the sound, which seemed to be
almost articulate. They went some paces off, as if
it were to confer together, walking side by side,
backward and forward, like persons deliberating
upon some affair of weight, but often turning their
eyes towards me, as it were to watch that I might
not escape. I was amazed to see such actions and
behaviour in brute beasts, and concluded with my-
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
61
This
self, that if the inhabitants of this country were en-
dued with a proportionable degree of reason, they
must needs be the wisest people upon earth.
thought gave me so much comfort that I resolved to
go forward, until I could discover some house or
village, or meet with any of the natives, leaving the
two horses to discourse together as they pleased.
But the first, who was a dapple gray, observing me
to steal off, neighed after me in so expressive a tone,
that I fancied myself to understand what he meant ;
whereupon I turned back and came near to him, to
expect his further commands, but concealing my
fear as much as I could, for I began to be in some
pain how this adventure might terminate; and the
reader will easily believe I did not much like my
present situation.
The two horses came up close to me, looking|
with great earnestness upon my face and hands.
The gray steed rubbed my hat all round with his right
fore-hoof, and discomposed it so much, that I was
forced to adjust it better by taking it off, and sett-
ling it again; whereat both he and his companion
(who was a brown bay) appeared to be much sur-
prised the latter felt the lappet of my coat, and
finding it to hang loose about me, they both looked
He stroked my right
with new signs of wonder.
hand, seeming to admire the softness and colour,
but he squeezed it so hard between his hoof and his
pastern, that I was forced to roar; after which they
both touched me with all possible tenderness. They
were under great perplexity about my shoes and
stockings, which they felt very often, neighing to
each other and using various gestures, not unlike
those of a philosopher, when he would attempt to
solve some new and difficult phenomenon.
Upon the whole, the behaviour of these animals
was so orderly and rational, so acute and judicious,
that I at last concluded they must needs be magi-
cians who had thus metamorphosed themselves upon
some design, and seeing a stranger in the way, re-
solved to divert themselves with him, or perhaps,
were really amazed at the sight of a man so very
different in habit, feature, and complexion, from
those who might probably live in so remote a cli-
mate. Upon the strength of this reasoning, I ven-
tured to address them in the following manner:
"Gentlemen, if you be conjurors as I have good
be conjurors as I have good
cause to believe, you can understand my language;
therefore I make bold to let your worships know
that I am a poor distressed Englishman, driven by
his misfortunes upon your coast; and I entreat one
of you to let me ride upon his back, as if he were a
real horse, to some house or village where I can be
relieved. In return of which favour, I will make
you a present of this knife and bracelet," taking
them out of my pocket. The two creatures stood
silent while I spoke, seeming to listen with great
attention; and when I had ended they neighed fre-
quently towards each other, as if they were engaged
in serious conversation. I plainly observed that
their language expressed the passions very well, and
the words might, with little pains, be resolved into
an alphabet more easily than the Chinese.
spoke after him as well as I could, and found myself
perceivably to improve every time, though very far
from any degree of perfection. Then the bay tried
me with a second word, much harder to be pro-
nounced, but reducing it to the English orthogra-
phy, may be spelt thus, Houyhnhnm. I did not
succeed in this so well as in the former; but, after
two or three further trials 1 had better fortune, and
they both appeared amazed at my capacity.
After some further discourse, which I then con-
jectured might relate to me, the two friends tock
their leaves with the same compliment of striking
each other's hoof, and the gray made me signs that
I should walk before him; wherein I thought it
prudent to comply, till I could find a better director.
When I offered to slacken my pace, he would cry
hhuun hhuun. guessed his meaning, and gave
him to understand as well as I could, "that I was
weary, and not able to walk faster;" upon which he
would stand a while to let me rest.
CHAPTER II.
The author conducted by a Houyhnhnm to his house, The
house described. The author's reception. The food of the
Houyhnhnms. The author in distress for want of medicine;
at last relieved. His manner of feeding in this country.
HAVING travelled about three miles we came to a
long kind of building, made of timber stuck in the
ground, and wattled across; the roof was low, and
covered with straw. I now began to be a little
comforted, and took out some toys which travellers
usually carry for presents to the savage Indians of
America, and other parts, in hopes the people of
the house would be thereby encouraged to receive
me kindly. The horse made me a sign to go in first
It was a large room with a smooth clay floor, and a
rack and manger extending the whole length on one
side. There were three nags and two mares, not
eating, but some of them sitting down upon their
hams, which I very much wondered at, but won-
dered more to see the rest employed in domestic
business; these seemed but ordinary cattle. How-
ever, this confirmed my first opinion, that a people
who could so far civilise brute animals must needs
excel in wisdom all the nations of the world. The
gray came in just after, and thereby prevented any
ill treatment which the others might have given me.
He neighed to them several times in a style of
authority, and received answers.
Beyond this room there were three others reach-
ing the length of the house, to which you passed
through three doors, opposite to each other in the
manner of a vista; we went through the second
room towards the third. Here the gray walked in
first, beckoning me to attend: I waited in the
second room and got ready my presents for the
master and mistress of the house; they were two
knives, three bracelets of false pearls, a small look-
ing-glass, and a bead necklace. The horse neighed
three or four times, and I waited to hear some
answers in a human voice, but I heard no other
returns than in the same dialect, only one or two a
little shriller than his. I began to think that this
I could frequently distinguish the word Yahoo, house must belong to some person of great note
which was repeated by each of them several times; among them, because there appeared so much cere-
and although it was impossible for me to conjecture mony before I could gain admittance. But that a
what it meant, yet, while the two horses were busy man of quality should be served all by horses was
in conversation, I endeavoured to practise this word beyond my comprehension. I feared my brain was
upon my tongue; and, as soon as they were silent, disturbed by my sufferings and misfortunes. I
I boldly pronounced Fahoo in a loud voice, imitating roused myself, and looked about me in the room
at the same time, as near as I could, the neighing of where I was left alone; this was furnished like the
a horse, at which they were both visibly surprised; first, only after a more elegant manner. I rubbed
and the gray repeated the same word twice, as if he my eyes often, but the same objects still occurred.
meant to teach me the right accent; wherein II pinched my arms and sides to awake myself, hop-
62
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
ing I might be in a dream. I then absolutely
concluded that all these appearances could be no-
thing else but necromancy and magic. But I had
no time to pursue these reflections, for the gray
horse came to the door and made me a sign to
follow him into the third room, where I saw a very
comely mare together with a colt and foal, sitting
on their haunches upon mats of straw, not unartfully
made, and perfectly neat and clean.
The mare soon after my entrance rose from her
mat, and coming up close, after having nicely ob、
served my hands and face, gave me a most con-
temptuous look, and turning to the horse I heard
the word Yahoo often repeated betwixt them, the
meaning of which word I could not then compre
hend, although it was the first I had learned to
pronounce. But I was soon better informed, to my
everlasting mortification; for the horse beckoning
to me with his head, and repeating the hhuun,
hhuun, as he did upon the road, which I understood
was to attend him, led me out into a kind of court
where was another building at some distance from
the house. Here we entered, and I saw three of
those detestable creatures which I first met after my
landing, feeding upon roots and the flesh of some
animals which I afterwards found to be that of asses
and dogs, and now and then a cow dead by accident
or disease. They were all tied by the neck with
strong withes fastened to a beam; they held their
food between the claws of their fore-feet, and tore it
with their teeth.
The master horse ordered a sorrel nag, one of his
servants, to untie the largest of these animals and
take him into the yard. The beast and I were
brought close together, and our countenances dili-
gently compared both by master and servant, who
thereupon repeated several times the word Yahoo.
My horror and astonishment are not to be described,
when I observed in this abominable animal a per-
fect human figure; the face of it indeed was flat and
broad, the nose depressed, the lips large, and the
mouth wide; but these differences are common to
all savage nations where the lineaments of the coun-
tenance are distorted by the natives suffering their
infants to lie grovelling on the earth, or by carrying
them on their backs nuzzling with their face against
the mother's shoulders. The fore-feet of the Yahoo
differed from my hands in nothing else but the
length of the nails, the coarseness and brownness
of the palms, and the hairiness on the backs. There
was the same resemblance between our feet, with
the same differences, which I knew very well,
though the horses did not, because of my shoes and
stockings; the same in every part of our bodies
except as to hairiness and colour, which I have
already described.
The great difficulty that seemed to stick with the
two horses, was to see the rest of my body so very
different from that of a Yahoo; for which I was
obliged to my clothes, whereof they had no concep-
tion.
The sorrel nag offered me a root which he
held (after their manner as we shall describe in its
proper place) between his hoof and pastern. I took
it in my hand, and having smelt it, returned it to
him again as civilly as I could. He brought out of
the Yahoos' kennel a piece of ass's flesh, but it
smelt so offensively that I turned from it with loath-
ing; he then threw it to the Yahoo, by whom it
was greedily devoured. He afterwards showed me
a wisp of hay and a fetlock full of oats, but I shook
my
head to signify that neither of these were food
for me. And indeed J now apprehended that I
must absolutely starve if I did not get to some of my
own species; for as to those filthy Yahoos, although
there were few greater lovers of mankind at that
time than myself, yet I confess I never saw any sen-
sitive being so detestable on all accounts, and the
more I came near them the more hateful they grew
while I stayed in that country. This the master of
the horse observed by my behaviour, and therefore
sent the Yahoo back to his kennel. He then put
his fore-hoof to his mouth, at which I was much
surprised, although he did it with ease and with a
motion that appeared perfectly natural, and made
other signs to know what I would eat, but I could
not return him such an answer as he was able to
apprehend; and if he had understood me, I did not
see how it was possible to contrive any way for
finding myself nourishment. While we were thus
engaged I observed a cow passing by, whereupon I
pointed to her and expressed a desire to go and
milk her. This had its effect, for he led me back
into the house and ordered a mare-servant to open
a room, where a good store of milk lay in earthen
and wooden vessels after a very orderly and cleanly
manner. She gave me a large bowlful, of which I
drank very heartily and found myself well refreshed.
About noon I saw coming towards the house a
kind of vehicle drawn like a sledge by four Yahoos.
There was in it an old steed who seemed to be of
quality; he alighted with his hind feet forward,
having by accident got a hurt in his left fore-foot.
He came to dine with our horse, who received him
with great civility. They dined in the best room,
and had oats boiled in milk for the second course,
which the old horse eat warm, but the rest cold.
Their mangers were placed circular in the middle of
the room, and divided into several partitions, round
which they sat on their haunches upon basses of
straw, In the middle was a large rack with angles
answering to every partition of the manger, so that
each horse and mare eat their own hay and their
own mash of oats and milk with much decency and
regularity. The behaviour of the young colt and
foal appeared very modest, and that of the master
and mistress extremely cheerful and complaisant to
their guest. The gray ordered me to stand by him,
and much discourse passed between him and his
friend concerning me, as I found by the stranger's
often looking on me, and the frequent repetition of
the word Yahoo.
I happened to wear my gloves, which the master
gray observing, seemed perplexed, discovering signs
of wonder what I had done to my fore-feet. He
put his hoof three or four times to them, as if he
would signify that I should reduce them to their
former shape, which I presently did, pulling off
both my gloves and putting them into my pocket.
This occasioned further talk; and I saw the com-
pany was pleased with my behaviour, whereof I soon
found the good effects. I was ordered to speak the
few words I understood; and while they were at
dinner the master taught me the names for oats,
milk, fire, water, and some others which I could
readily pronounce after him, having from my youth
a great facility in learning languages.
When dinner was done the master horse took me
aside, and by signs and words made me understand
the concern he was in that I had nothing to cat.
Oats in their tongue are called hlunnh. This word
I pronounced two or three times; for although 1
had refused them at first, yet upon second thoughts
I considered that I could contrive to make of them
a kind of bread, which might be sufficient with milk
to keep me alive till I could make my escape to
some other country, and to creatures of my own
species. The horse immediately ordered a white
mare-servant of his family to bring me a good quan
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
63
tity of oats in a sort of wooden tray. These I heat-
ed before the fire as well as I could, and rubbed
them till the husks came off, which I made a shift
to winnow from the grain; I ground and beat them
between two stones, then took water, and made
them into a paste or cake, which I toasted at the fire
and eat warm with milk. It was at first a very in-
sipid diet, though common enough in many parts of
Europe, but grew tolerable by time; and having
been often reduced to hard fare in my life, this was
not the first experiment I had made how easily na-
ture is satisfied. And I cannot but observe that I
never had one hour's sickness while I staid in this
island. It is true I sometimes made a shift to catch
a rabbit or bird by springes made of Yahoos' hairs,
and I often gathered wholesome herbs, which I
boiled, and eat as salads with my bread; and now
and then for a rarity I made a little butter and
drank the whey. I was at first at a great loss for
salt, but custom soon reconciled me to the want of
it; and I am confident that the frequent use of salt
among us is an effect of luxury, and was first intro-
duced only as a provocative to drink, except where
it is necessary for preserving flesh in long voyages
or in places remote from great markets; for we ob-
serve no animal to be fond of it but man: * and as
to myself, when I left this country it was a great
while before I could endure the taste of it in any-
thing that I eat.
This is enough to say upon the subject of my diet,
wherewith other travellers fill their books, as if the
readers were personally concerned whether we fare
well or ill. However, it was necessary to mention
this matter, lest the world should think it impossible
that I could find sustenance for three years, in such
a country and among such inhabitants.
When it grew towards evening, the master-horse
ordered a place for me to lodge in; it was but six
yards from the house, and separated from the stable
of the Yahoos. Here I got some straw, and cover-
ing myself with my own clothes, slept very sound.
But I was in a short time better accommodated, as
the reader shall know hereafter, when I come to
treat more particularly about my way of living.
CHAPTER III.
The author studies to learn the language. The Houyhnhnm,
his master, assists in teaching him. The language de
scribed. Several Houyhnhnms of quality come out of curi-
osity to see the author. He gives his master a short account
of his voyage.
-
so great, that he spent many hours of his leisure to
instruct me. He was convinced (as he afterwards
told me) that I must be a Yahoo; but my teach-
ableness, civility and cleanliness astonished him;
which were qualities altogether opposite to those
animals. He was most perplexed about my clothes,
reasoning sometimes with himself whether they
were a part of my body; for I never pulled them
off till the family were asleep, and got them on
before they waked in the morning. My master was
eager to learn "whence I came how I acquired
those appearances of reason which I discovered in
all my actions-and to know my story from my own
mouth, which he hoped he should soon do, by the
great proficiency I made in learning and pronoun-
cing their words and sentences." To help my me-
mory I formed all I learned into the English alpha-
bet, and writ the words down, with the translations.
This last, after some time I ventured to do in my
master's
master's presence.
It cost me much trouble to ex-
plain to him what I was doing, for the inhabitants
have not the least idea of books or literature.
In about ten weeks' time I was able to understand
most of his questions, and in three months could
He was ex-
give him some tolerable answers.
tremely curious to know" from what part of the
country I came, and how I was taught to imitate a
rational creature; because the Yahoos (whom he
saw I exactly resembled in my head, hands, and
face, that were only visible), with some appearance
of cunning, and the strongest disposition to mis-
chief, were observed to be the most unteachable of all
brutes." I answered, "That I came over the sea from
a far place, with many others of my own kind, in a
great hollow vessel, made of the bodies of trees; that
my companions forced me to land on this coast, and
then left me to shift for myself." It was with some
difficulty, and by the help of many signs, that I
brought him to understand me. He replied, "That
I must needs be mistaken, or that I said the thing
which was not;" for they have no word in their
language to express lying or falsehood. He knew
it was impossible that there could be a country be-
yond the sea, or that a parcel of brutes could move
a wooden vessel whither they pleased upon water.
He was sure no Houyhnhnm alive could make such
a vessel, nor would trust Yahoos to manage it.”
The word Houyhnhnm, in their tongue, signifies a
horse, and, in its etymology, the perfection of nature.
I told my master, "That I was at a loss for expres-
and
sion, but would improve as fast as I could,
hoped, in a short time, I should be able to tell him
wonders." He was pleased to direct his own mare,
his colt and foal, and the servants of the family, to
day, for two or three hours, he was at the same
take all opportunities of instructing me; and every
pains himself. Several horses and mares of quality
in the neighbourhood came often to our house,
upon the report spread of " a wonderful Fahoo,
that could speak like a Houyhnhnm, and seemed, in
My principal endeavour was to learn the language,
which my master (for so I shall henceforth call him)
and his children, and every servant of his house
were desirous to teach me ; for they looked upon it
as a prodigy that a brute animal should discover
such marks of a rational creature. I pointed to
everything and inquired the name of it, which I
wrote down in my journal-book when I was alone
and corrected my bad accent by desiring those of
the family to pronounce it often. In this employ-his words and actions, to discover some glimmerings
ment a sorrel nag, one of the under scrvants, was
very ready to assist me.
In speaking they pronounce through the nose and
throat, and their language approaches nearest to the
High Dutch or German of any I know in Europe,
but is much more graceful and significant. The
Emperor Charles V. made almost the same observa-
tion when he said, "That if he were to speak to his
horse, it should be in High Dutch."
The curiosity and impatience of my master were
• Many animals will eat salt, and in particular, sheep and
oxen. Earl Spencer preserves his cattle from disease by the
profuse sprinkling of that inestimable article to all animals
over his pastures.
of reason." These delighted to converse with me;
they put many questions, and received such answers
as I was able to return. By all these advantages I
my arrival, I understood whatever was spoken, and
made so great a progress, that, in five months from
could express myself tolerably well.
The Houyhnhnms, who came to visit my master
out of a design of seeing and talking with me, could
hardly believe me to be a right Yahoo, because my
body had a different covering from others of my
kind. They were astonished to observe me with-
out the usual hair or skin, except on my head, face,
and hands; but I discovered that secret to my
61
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
master upon an accident which happened about a
fortnight before.
I have already told the reader that every night,
when the family were gone to bed, it was my custom
to strip, and cover myself with my clothes. It hap-
pened, one morning early, that my master sent for
me by the sorrel nag, who was his valet. When he
came I was fast asleep, my clothes fallen off on one
side, and my shirt above my waist. I awaked at
the noise he made, and observed him to deliver his
message in some disorder; after which he went to
my master, and, in a great fright, gave him a very
confused account of what he had seen. This I pre-
sently discovered; for, going as soon as I was
dressed to pay my attendance upon his honour, he
asked me "The meaning of what his servant had
reported, that I was not the same thing when I
slept as I appeared to be at other times; that
his valet assured him some part of me was white,
some yellow, at least not so white, and some
brown."
I had hitherto concealed the secret of my dress,
in order to distinguish myself as much as possible
from that cursed race of Yahoos, but now I found it
in vain to do so any longer. Besides, I considered
that my clothes and shoes would soon wear out,
which already were in a declining condition, and
must be supplied by some contrivance, from the
hides of Yahoos, or other brutes, whereby the whole
secret would be known. I therefore told my master,
"That in the country whence I came, those of my
kind always covered their bodies with the hairs of
certain animals prepared by art. as well for decency
as to avoid the inclemencies of air, both hot and
cold; of which, as to my own person, I would give
him immediate conviction, if he pleased to command
me; only desiring his excuse if I did not expose
those parts that nature taught us to conceal."
said, My discourse was all very strange, but es-
pecially the last part; for he could not understand
why nature should teach us to conceal what nature
had given; that neither himself nor family were
ashamed of any part of their bodies; but, however,
I might do as I pleased." Whereupon I first un-
buttoned my coat, and pulled it off; I did the same
with my waistcoat; I drew off my shoes, stockings,
and breeches; I let my shirt down to my waist, and
drew up the bottom, fastening it like a girdle about
my middle, to hide my nakedness.
He
My master observed the whole performance with
great signs of curiosity and admiration. He took
up all my clothes in his pastern, one piece after
another, and examined them diligently; he then
stroked my body very gently, and looked round me
several times; after which he said it was plain I
must be a perfect Yahoo, but that I differed very
much from the rest of my species, in the softness,
whiteness, and smoothness of my skin; my want
of hair in several parts of my body; the shape and
shortness of my claws behind and before; and my
affectation of walking continually on my two hinder
feet. He desired to see no more, and gave me leave
to put on my clothes again, for I was shuddering
with cold.
I expressed my uneasiness at his giving me so
often the appellation of Yahoo, an odious animal,
for which I had so utter a hatred and contempt; I
begged he would forbear applying that word to me,
and make the same order in his family, and among
his friends whom he suffered to see me. I requested
likewise, "That the secret of my having a false
covering to my body might be known to none but
himself, at least, as long as my present clothing
should last for as to what the sorrel nag his valet
had observed, his honour might command him to
conceal it."
All this my master very graciously consented to;
and thus the secret was kept till my clothe' began
to wear out, which I was forced to supply by se-
veral contrivances that shall hereafter be mentioned.
In the mean time he desired "I would go on with
my utmost diligence to learn their language, because
he was more astonished at my capacity for speech
and reason than at the figure of my body, whether
it were covered or not; adding, "That he waited
with some impatience to hear the wonders which I
promised to tell him."
Thenceforward he doubled the pains he had been
at to instruct me; he brought me into all company,
and made them treat me with civility; "because,"
as he told them privately, "this would put me into
good humour, and make me more diverting."
Every day, when I waited on him, besides the
trouble he was at in teaching, he would ask me several
questions concerning myself, which I answered as
well as I could; and by these means he had already
received some general ideas, though very imperfect.
It would be tedious to relate the several steps by
which I advanced to a more regular conversation;
but the first account I gave of myself in any order
and length was to this purpose:
He
That I came from a very far country, as I al-
ready had attempted to tell him, with about fifty
more of my own species; that we travelled upon
the seas in a great hollow vessel made of wood, and
larger than his honour's house. I described the
ship to him in the best terms I could, and ex-
plained,
plained, by the help of my handkerchief displayed,
how it was driven forward by the wind. That,
upon a quarrel among us, I was set on shore on
this coast, where I walked forward, without know-
ing whither, till he delivered me from the persecu
tion of those execrable Yahoos." He asked me,
"Who made the ship, and how it was possible that
the Houyhnhnms of my country would leave it to
the management of brutes ?" My answer was,
"That I durst proceed no further in my relation
unless he would give me his word and honour that
he would not be offended, and then I would tell
him the wonders I had so often promised."
agreed, and I went on, by assuring him that the
ship was made by creatures like myself, who in all
the countries I had travelled, as well as in my own,
were the only governing rational animals; and that,
upon my arrival hither, I was as much astonished
to see the Houyhnhnms act like rational beings as
he or his friends could be in finding some marks of
reason in a creature he was pleased to call a Yahoo ;
to which I owned my resemblance in every part,
but could not account for their degenerate and
brutal nature." I said further, "That if good for-
tune ever restored me to my native country, to
relate my travels hither, as I resolved to do, every-
body would believe that I said the thing that was
not, that I invented the story out of my own head;
and (with all possible respect to himself, his family,
and friends, and under his promise of not being
offended), our countrymen would hardly think it
probable that a Houyhnhnm should be the presiding
creature of a nation, and a Yahoo the brute."
CHAPTER IV.
The au
The Houyhnhnm's notion of truth and falsehood.
thor's discourse disapproved by his master. The author
gives a more particular account of himself and the accidents
of his voyage.
My master heard me with great appearances of un-
easiness in his countenance; because douhting, or
t
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
65
not believing, are so little known in this country,
that the inhabitants cannot tell how to behave
themselves under such circumstances. And I re-
member, in frequent discourses with my master
concerning the nature of manhood in other parts of
the world, having occasion to talk of lying and false
representation, it was with much difficulty that he
comprehended what I meant, although he had other-
wise a most acute judgment; for he argued thus:
"That the use of speech was to make us understand
one another, and to receive information of facts;
now, if any one said the thing which was not, these
ends were defeated, because I cannot properly be
said to understand him; and I am so far from re-
ceiving information that he leaves me worse than in
ignorance; for I am led to believe a thing black
when it is white, and short when it is long."
And these were all the notions he had concerning
that faculty of lying, so perfectly well understood,
and so universally practised, among human crea-
tures.
"I
To return from this digression. When I asserted
that the Yahoos were the only governing animals
in my country, which my master said was altogether
past his conception, he desired to know, "Whether
we had Houyhnhnms among us, and what was their
employment?" I told him, "We had great num-
bers; that in summer they grazed in the fields, and
in winter were kept in houses with hay and oats,
where Yahoo servants were employed to rub their
sking smooth, comb their manes, pick their feet,
serve them with food, and make their beds."
understand you well," said my master; "it is now
very plain, from all you have spoken, that whatever
share of reason the Yahoos pretend to, the Houyhn-
hnms are your masters. I heartily wish our Yahoos
would be so tractable.” I begged "his honour
would please to excuse me from proceeding any fur-
ther, because I was very certain that the account he
expected from me would be highly displeasing."
But he insisted in commanding me to let him know
the best and the worst. I told him "he should be
obeyed." I owned "that the Houyhnhnms among
us, whom we called horses, were the most generous
and comely animal we had; that they excelled in
strength and swiftness; and when they belonged to
persons of quality were employed in travelling,
racing, or drawing chariots; they were treated with
much kindness and care, till they fell into diseases,
or became foundered in the feet; but then they
were sold, and used to all kind of drudgery till they
died; after which their skins were stripped, and
sold for what they were worth, and their bodies left
to be devoured by dogs and birds of prey. But the
common race of horses had not so good fortune,
being kept by farmers and carriers, and other mean
people, who put them to greater labour and fed
them worse.' I described, as well as I could, our
way of riding; the shape and use of a bridle, a
saddle, a spur, and a whip; of harness and wheels.
I added, that we fastened plates of a certain hard
substance, called iron, at the bottom of their feet,
to preserve their hoofs from being broken by the
stony ways on which we often travelled.”
"
My master, after some expressions of great indig-
nation, wondered "how we dared to venture upon
a Houyhnhnm's back; for he was sure that the
weakest servant in his house would be able to shake
off the strongest Yahoo, or, by lying down and
rolling on his back, squeeze the brute to death."
answered, "Thit our horses were trained up, from
three or four years old, to the several uses we in-
tended them for; that if any of them proved in-
tolerably vicious, they were employed for carriages;
VOL. 1.
I
that they were severely beaten, while they were
young, for any mischievous tricks; that the males,
designed for the common use of riding or draught,
were generally castrated about two years after their
birth, to take down their spirits, and make them
more tame and gentle; that they were indeed sen-
sible of rewards and punishments; but his honour
would please to consider that they had not the least
tincture of reason, any more than the Yahoos in this
country."
It put me to the pains of many circumlocutions
to give my master a right idea of what I spoke; for
their language does not abound in variety of words,
because their wants and passions are fewer than
among us. But it is impossible to express his
noble resentment at our savage treatment of the
Houyhnhnm race; particularly after I had ex-
plained the manner and use of castrating horses
among us to hinder them from propagating their
kind and to render them more servile. He said,
"If it were possible there could be any country
where Yahoos alone were endued with reason, they
certainly must be the governing animal; because
reason in time will always prevail against brutal
strength. But, considering the frame of our bodies,
and especially of mine, he thought no creature of
equal bulk was so ill contrived for employing that
reason in the common offices of life;" whereupon
he desired to know "whether those among whom
I lived resembled me or the Yahoos of his country."
I assured him, "that I was as well shaped as most
of my age, but the younger, and the females were
much more soft and tender, and the skins of the
latter generally as white as milk." He said, 1
differed indeed from other Yahoos, being much
more cleanly and not altogether so deformed; but
in point of real advantage, he thought I differed for
the worse, that my nails were of no use either to my
fore or hinder feet. As to my fore-feet, he could
not properly call them by that name, for he never
observed me to walk upon them; that they were too
soft to bear the ground; that I generally went with
them uncovered; neither was the covering I some-
times wore on them of the same shape or so strong
as that on my feet behind. That I could not walk
with any security, for if either of my hinder feet
slipped, I must inevitably fall." He then began to
find fault with other parts of my body: "The flat-
ness of my face, the prominence of my nose, mine
eyes placed directly in front, so that I could not
look on either side without turning my head; that
I was not able to feed myself without lifting one of
my fore-feet to my mouth; and therefore nature had
placed those joints to answer that necessity. He
knew not what could be the use of those several
clefts and divisions in my feet behind; that these
were too soft to bear the hardness and sharpness of
stones, without a covering made from the skin of
some other brute; that my whole body wanted a
fence against heat and cold which I was forced to
put on and off every day with tediousness and
trouble. And lastly, that he observed every animal
in this country naturally to abhor the Yahoos,
whom the weaker avoided and the stronger drove
from them. So that, supposing us to have the gift
of reason, he could not see how it were possible to
cure that natural antipathy which every creature
discovered against us; nor consequently, how we
could tame and render them serviceable. How-
ever, he would," as he said, “debate the matter no
further, because he was more desirous to know
my story, the country where I was born, and the
several actions and events of my life before I cams
hither.”
66
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
I assured him "how extremely desirous I was
that he should be satisfied on every point; but I
doubted much whether it would be possible for me
to explain myself on several subjects, whereof his
honour could have no conception, because I saw
nothing in his country to which I could resemble
them; that, however, I would do my best, and
strive to express myself by similitudes, humbly de-
siring his assistance when I wanted proper words;"
which he was pleased to promise me.
I said, " My birth was of honest parents in an
island called England, which was remote from his
country, as many days' journey as the strongest of
his honour's servants could travel in the annual
course of the sun; that I was bred a surgeon, whose
trade it is to cure wounds and hurts in the body,
gotten by accident or violence; that my country was
governed by a female man, whom we called queen ;
that I left it to get riches, whereby I might main-
tain myself and family, when I should return; that
in my last voyage, I was commander of the ship,
and had about fifty Yahoos under me, many of
which died at sea, and I was forced to supply them
by others picked out from several nations; that our
ship was twice in danger of being sunk; the first
time by a great storm, and the second by striking
against a rock." Here my master interposed, by
asking me, "How I could persuade strangers out of
different countries to venture with me, after the
losses I had sustained and the hazards I had run ?”
I said, "They were fellows of desperate fortunes,
forced to fly from the places of their birth on ac-
count of their poverty or their crimes. Some were
undone by law-suits; others spent all they had in
drinking, whoring, and gaming; others fled for
treason; many for murder, theft, poisoning, robbery,
perjury, forgery, coining false money, for commit-
ting rapes or sodomy, for flying from their colours
or deserting to the enemy; and most of them
had broken prison: None of these durst return to
their native countries, for fear of being hanged
or of starving in a jail; and therefore they were
under a necessity of seeking a livelihood in other
places."
During this discourse, my master was pleased to
interrupt me several times. I had made use of
many circumlocutions in describing to him the na-
ture of the several crimes for which most of our
crew had been forced to fly their country. This la-
This la-
bour took up several days' conversation, before he
was able to comprehend me. He was wholly at a
loss to know what could be the use or necessity of
practising those vices: to clear up which, I endea-
voured to give some ideas of the desire of power
and riches; of the terrible effects of lust, intem-
perance, malice, and envy. All this I was forced
to define and describe by putting cases and making
suppositions. After which, like one whose imagin-
ation was struck with something never seen or
heard of before, he would lift up his eyes with
amazement and indignation. Power, government,
war, law, punishment, and a thousand other things,
had no terms wherein that language could express
them, which made the difficulty almost insuperable,
to give my master any conception of what I meant.
But being of an excellent understanding, much im-
proved by contemplation and converse, he at last
arrived at a competent knowledge of what human
nature, in our parts of the world, is capable to per-
form, aud desired I would give him some particular
account of that land which we call Europe, but es-
pecially of my own country.
CHAPTER V.
The thor at his master's command, informs him of the state
of England. The causes of war among the princes of
Furope. The author begins to explain the English Cou-
stitution,
THE reader may please to observe, that the follow-
ing extract of many conversations I had with my
master contains a summary of the most material
points which were discoursed at several times for
above two years; his honour often desiring fuller
satisfaction as I further improved in the Houyhnhnm
tongue. I laid before him, as well as I could, the
whole state of Europe; I discoursed of trade and
manufactures, of arts and sciences; and the answers
I gave to all the questions he made, as they arose
upon several subjects, were a fund of conversation
not to be exhausted. But I shall here only set down
the substance of what passed between us concern-
ing my own country, reducing it in order as well
as I can, without any regard to time or other cir-
cumstances while I strictly adhere to truth. My
only concern is, that I shall hardly be able to do
justice to my master's arguments and expressions,
which must needs suffer by my want of capacity,
as well as by a translation into our barbarous
English.
In obedience, therefore, to his honour's com.
mands, I related to him the Revolution under the
Prince of Orange; the long war with France, en-
tered into by the said prince, and renewed by his
successor, the present queen, wherein the greatest
powers of Christendom were engaged, and which
still continued. I computed, at his request, "that
about a million of Yahoos might have been killed
in the whole progress of it; and perhaps a hundred
or more cities taken, and five times as many ships
burnt or sunk.”
He asked me, "What were the usual causes or
motives that made one country go to war with
another?" I answered, "They were innumerable ;
but I should only mention a few of the chief.
Sometimes the ambition of princes, who never
think they have land or people enough to govern ;
sometimes the corruption of ministers, who engage
their master in a war in order to stifle or divert the
clamour of the subjects against their evil adminis-
tration. Difference in opinions has cost many
millions of lives; for instance, whether flesh be
bread, or bread be flesh; whether the juice of a
certain berry be blood or wine [Transubstantiation];
whether whistling be a vice or a virtue [church-
music]; whether it be better to kiss a post or
throw it into the fire [kissing a cross]; what is
the best colour for a coat, whether black, white,
red, or gray; and whether it should be long or
short, narrow or wide, dirty or clean, with many
more." Neither are any wars so furious and bloody,
or of so long continuance, as those occasioned by
difference in opinion, especially if it be in things
indifferent.
"Sometimes the quarrel between two princes is
to decide which of them shall dispossess a third of
his dominions, where neither of them pretend to
any right. Sometimes one prince quarrels with
another, for fear the other should quarrel with him.
Sometimes a war is entered upon because the enemy
is too strong, and sometimes because he is too weak.
Sometimes our neighbours want the things which
we have, or have the things which we want, and we
| both fight till they take ours, or give us theirs.
is a very justifiable cause of a war to invade a
It
The colour and make of sacred vestments, and order of
Popish ecclesiastics.
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
country after the people have been wasted by
have been wasted by
famine, destroyed by pestilence, or embroiled by
or embroiled by
factions among themselves. It is justifiable to enter
into war against our nearest ally when one of his
towns lies convenient for us, or a territory of land,
that would render our dominions round and com-
pact. If a prince sends forces into a nation where
the people are poor and ignorant, he may lawfully
put half of them to death, and make slaves of the
rest, in order to civilise and reduce them from their
barbarous way of living. It is a very kingly, hon-
ourable, and frequent practice, when one prince de-
sires the assistance of another to secure him against
an invasion, that the assistant, when he has driven
out the invader, should seize on the dominions him-
self, and kill, imprison, or banish the prince he came
to relieve. Alliance by blood or marriage is a fre-
quent cause of war between princes; and the nearer
their kindred is, the greater their disposition to quar-
rel. Poor nations are hungry, and rich nations are
proud; and pride and hunger will ever be at va-
riance. For these reasons, the trade of a soldier is
held the most honourable of all others; because a
soldier is a Yahoo hired to kill, in cold blood, as
nany of his own species who have never offended
him as possibly he can.
"There is likewise a kind of beggarly princes in
Europe, not able to make war by themselves, who
hire out their troops to richer nations for so much
a-day to each man; of which they keep three-fourths
to themselves, and it is the best part of their main-
tenance: such are those in many northern parts of
Europe."a
"What you have told me," said my master, "upon
the subject of war, docs, indeed, discover most
admirably the effects of that reason you prétend to:
however, it is happy that the shame is greater than
the danger, and that nature has left you utterly inca-
pable of doing much mischief. For, your mouths
lying flat with your faces, you can hardly bite each
other to any purpose, unless by consent. Then, as
to the claws upon your feet, before and behind, they
are so short and tender, that one of our Falsos
would drive a dozen of yours before him. And
therefore, in recounting the numbers of those who
have been killed in battle, I cannot but think
you
have said the thing which is not.”
I could not forbear shaking my head and smiling
a little at his ignorance. And, being no stranger to
the art of war, I gave him a description of cannons,
culverins, muskets, carabines, pistols, bullets, pow
der, swords, bayonets, battles, sieges, retreats, at-
tacks, undermines, countermines, bombardments,
sea-fights, ships sunk with a thousand men, twenty
thousand killed on each side, dying groans, linfbs
flying in the air, smoke, noise, confusion, trampling
to death under horses' fect, flight, pursuit, victory;
victory;
fields strewed with carcases, left for food to dogs,
and wolves, and birds of prey; plundering, stripping,
ravishing, burning, and destroying. And, to set
forth the valour of my own dear countrymen, I as-
sured him "that I had seen them blow up a hun-
dred enemies at once in a siege, and as many in a
ship; and beheld the dead bodies drop down in
pieces from the clouds, to the great diversion of the
spectators."b
I was going on to more particulars, when my
master commanded me silence. He said, "whoever
"This passage shows how clearly Swift foresaw the evil
consequences derived from engraiting a poor German stock
apon the rich productive trees of other nations; and none more
than on our own.
b It would be impossible, by the most laboured argument,
to show the absurd injustice and cruelty of war, so effectually
as by this simple exhibition of them in a new light.
|
|
understood the nature of Yaños might easily be-
lieve it possible for so vile an animal to be capable
of every action I had named, if their strength and
cunning equalled their malice.
cunning equalled their malice. But as my discourse.
had increased his abhorrence of the whole species,
so he found it gave him a disturbance in his mind
to which he was wholly a stranger before. He
thought his ears, being used to such abominable
words, might by degrees admit them with less de-
testation; that although he hated the Yahoos of this
country, yet he no more blamed them for their
odious qualities, than he did a gnnayh (a bird of
prey) for its cruelty, or a sharp stone for cutting his
hoof. But when a creature pretending to reason
could be capable of such enormities, he dreaded
lest the corruption of that faculty might be worse
than brutality itself. He seemed therefore confi-
dent, that instead of reason, we were only possessed
of some quality fitted to increase our natural vices,
as the reflection from a troubled stream returns the
image of an ill-shapen body, not only larger, but
more distorted.'
He added, "that he had heard too much upon
the subject of war, both in this and some former
discourses. There was another point which a little
perplexed him at present. I had informed him that
some of our crew left their country on account of
being ruined by law; that I had already explained
the meaning of the word; but he was at a loss how
it should come to pass, that the law, which was in-
tended for every man's preservation, should be any
man's ruin. Therefore he desired to be further
satisfied what I meant by law, and the dispensers
thereof, according to the present practice in my own
country; because he thought nature and reason
were sufficient guides for a reasonable animal as we
pretended to be, in showing us what he ought të
do, and what to avoid.”
I assured his honour, "that law was a science in
which I had not much conversed, further than by
employing advocates in vain upon some injustices
that had been done me: however, I would give him
all the satisfaction I was able."
I said, "there was a society of men among us,
bred up from their youth in the art of proving, by
words multiplied for the purpose, that white is
black and black is white, according as they are paid.
To this society all the rest of the people are slaves.
For example, if my neighbour has a mind to my
cow, he has a lawyer to prove that he ought to have
my cow from me. I must then hire another to de-
fend my right, it being against all rules of law that
any man should be allowed to speak for himself.
Now, in this case, I, who am the right owner, lie
under two great disadvantages,--first. my lawyer,
being practised almost from his cradle in defending
falsehood, is quite out of his clement when he would
be an advocate for justice, which is an unnatural
office he always attempts with great awkwardness. if
not with ill-will. The second disadvantage is, that
my lawyer must proceed with great caution, or else
he will be reprimanded by the judges and abhoired
by his brethren, as one that would lessen the prac-
tice of the law. And therefore I have but two me-
thods to preserve my cow. The first is, to gain over
my adversary's lawyer with a double fee, who will
then betray his client by insinuating that he has jus-
tice on his side. The second way is, for my lawyer
to make my cause appear as unjust as he can, by
allowing the cow to belong to my adversary: and
this, if it be skilfully done, will certainly bespeal
the favour of the bench. Now, your honour, is to
know, that these judges are persons appointed to
decide all controversies of property, as well as for
F2
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
the trial of criminals, and picked out from the most
dexterous lawyers, who are grown old or lazy; and
having been biassed all their lives against truth and
equity, lie under such a fatal necessity of favouring
fraul, perjury, and oppression, that I have known
some of them refuse a large bribe from the side where
justice lay, rather than injure the faculty, by doing
anything unbecoming their nature or their office.
"It is a maxim among these lawyers, that what-
ever has been done before may legally be done
again; and therefore they take special care to record
all the decisions formerly made against common jus-
tice and the general reason of mankind. These,
under the name of precedents, they produce as autho-
rities to justify the most iniquitous opinions; and
the judges never fail of directing accordingly.
"In pleading, they studiously avoid entering into
the merits of the cause, but are loud, violent, and
tedious in dwelling upon all circumstances which are
not to the purpose. For instance, in the case
already mentioned, they never desire to know what
claim or title my adversary has to my cow; but
whether the said cow were red or black; her horns
long or short; whether the field I graze her in be
round or square; whether she was milked at home
or abroad; what diseases she is subject to, and the
like; after which they consult precedents, adjourn
the cause from time to time, and in ten, twenty, or
thirty years come to an issue.
"It is likewise to be observed, that this society
has a peculiar cant and jargon of their own, that no
other mortal can understand, and wherein all their
laws are written, which they take special care to
multiply; whereby they have wholly confounded the
very essence of truth and falsehood, of right and
wrong; so that it will take thirty years to decide
whether the field left me by my ancestors for six
generations belongs to me or to a stranger three hun-
dred miles off.
"In the trial of persons accused for crimes against
the state, the method is much more short and com-
mendable. the judge first sends to sound the dispo-
sition of those in power, after which he can easily
hang or save a criminal, strictly preserving all due
forms of law."
Here my master, interposing, said, "it was a pity
that creatures endowed with such prodigious abili-
ties of mind, as these lawyers, by the description I
gave of them, must certainly be, were not rather en-
couraged to be instructors of others in wisdom and
knowledge." In answer to which I assured his
honour, "that in all points out of their own trade,
they were usually the most ignorant and stupid gene-
ration among us, the most despicable in common
conversation, avowed enemies to all knowledge and
learning, and equally disposed to pervert the general
reason of mankind in every other subject of dis-
course as in that of their own profession."
CHAPTER VI.
A continuation of the state of England under Queen Anne.
The character of a first minister of state in European courts.
My master was yet wholly at a loss to understand
what motives could incite this race of lawyers to per-
plex, disquiet, and weary themselves, and engage in
a confederacy of injustice, merely for the sake of
injuring their fellow-animals; neither could he com-
prehend what I meant in saying they did it for hire.
Whereupon I was at much pains to describe to him
the use of money, the materials it was made of, and
the value of the metals; "that when a Yahoo had
got a great store of this precious substance, he was
able to purchase whatever he had a mind to; the
finest clothing, the noblest houses, great tracts of
land, the most costly meats and drinks, and have
his choice of the most beautiful females. There-
fore, since money alone was able to perform all
these feats, our Yahoos thought they could never
have enough of it to spend, or to save, as they found
themselves inclined, from their natural bent, either
to profusion or avarice; that the rich man enjoyed
the fruit of the poor man's labour, and the latter
were a thousand to one in proportion to the former
that the bulk of our people were forced to live miser-
ably, by labouring every day for small wages, to
make a few live plentifully."
I enlarged myself much on these and many other
particulars to the same purpose; but his honour
was still to seek; for he went upon a supposition
that all animals had a title to their share in the pro-
ductions of the earth, and especially those who pre-
sided over the rest. Therefore he desired I would
let him know, "What these costly meats were, and
how any of us happened to want them?" Where-
upon I enumerated as many sorts as came into my
head, with the various methods of dressing them,
which could not be done without sending vessels by
sea to every part of the world, as well for liquors to
drink as for sauces, and innumerable other conve-
niences. I assured him "that this whole globe of
earth must be at least three times gone round be-
fore one of our better female Yahoos could get her
breakfast, or a cup to put it in." He said, "That
must needs be a miserable country which cannot
furnish food for its own inhabitants. But what he
chiefly wondered at was, how such vast tracks of
ground as I described should be wholly without fresh
water, and the people put to the necessity of sending
over the sea for drink." I replied, "That Eng-.
land (the dear place of my nativity) was computed
to produce three times the quantity of food more
than its inhabitants are able to consume, as well as
liquors extracted from grain, or pressed out of the
fruit of certain trees, which made excellent drink,
and the same proportion in every other convenience
of life. But in order to feed the luxury and intem-
perance of the males, and the vanity of the females,
we sent away the greatest part of our necessary
things to other countries, whence, in return, we
brought the materials of diseases, folly, and vice, to
spend among ourselves. Hence it follows, of neces-
sity, that vast numbers of our people are compelled
to seek their livelihood by begging, robbing, steal-
ing, cheating, pimping, flattering, suborning, for-
swearing, forging, gaming, lying, fawning, hector-
ing, voting, scribbling, star-gazing, poisoning, whor-
ing, canting, libelling, free-thinking, and the like
occupations:" every one of which terms I was at
much pains to make him understand.
"That wine was not imported among us from
foreign countries to supply the want of water or
other drinks, but because it was a sort of liquid which
made us merry, by putting us out of our senses, di-
verted all melancholy thoughts, begat wild, extrava-
gant imaginations in the brain, raised our hopes and
banished our fears, suspended every office of reason
for a time, and deprived us of the use of our limbs,
till we fell into a profound sleep; although it must
be confessed that we always awaked sick and dis-
pirited, and that the use of this liquor filled us with
diseases which made our lives uncomfortable and
short.
(4
But, beside all this, the bulk of our people sup-
ported themselves by furnishing the necessities or
conveniences of life to the rich, and to each other.
For instance, when I am at home, and dressed as 1
ought to be, I carry on my body the workmanship
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
re
of a hundred tradesmen, the building and furniture
of my house employ as many more, and five times
the number to adorn my wife."
I was going on to tell him of another sort of peo-
ple who get their livelihood by attending the sick,
having, upon some occasions, informed his honour
that many of my crew had died of diseases. But
here it was with the utmost difficulty that I brought
him to apprehend what I meant. "He could easily
conceive that a Houyhnhnm grew weak and heavy
a few days before his death, or, by some accident,
might hurt a limb; but that nature, who works all
things to perfection, should suffer any pains to breed
in our bodies, he thought impossible, and desired to
know the reason of so unaccountable an evil."
I told him "we fed on a thousand things which
operated contrary to each other; that we ate when
we were not hungry, and drank without the provo-
cation of thirst; that we sat whole nights drinking
strong liquors, without eating a bit, which disposed
us to sloth, inflamed our bodies, and precipitated or
prevented digestion; that prostitute female Yahoos
acquired a certain malady, which bred rottenness in
the bones of those who fell into their embraces; that
this and many other diseases, were propagated from
father to son, so that great numbers come into the
world with complicated maladies upon them; that
it would be endless to give him a catalogue of all
diseases incident to human bodies, for they could
not be fewer than five or six hundred, spread over
every limb and joint; in short, every part, external
and intestine, having diseases appropriated to itself.
To remedy which, there was a sort of people bred
up among us in the profession, or pretence, of
curing the sick. And, because I had some skill in
the faculty, I would, in gratitude to his honour, let
him know the whole mystery and method by which
they proceed.
"Their fundamental is, that all diseases arise from
repletion, whence they conclude, that a great evacu-
ation of the body is necessary, either through the
natural passage, or upwards at the mouth. Their
next business is from herbs, minerals, gums, oils,
shells, salts, juices, sea-weed, excrements, barks of
trees, serpents, toads, frogs, spiders, dead men's flesh
and bones, birds, beasts, and fishes, to form a com-
position, for smell and taste, the most abominable,
nauseous, and detestable, they can possibly contrive,
which the stomach immediately rejects with loath-
ing, and this they call a vomit; or else, from the same
store-house, with some other poisonous additions,
they command us to take in at the orifice above or
below (just as the physician then happens to be
disposed) a medicine equally annoying and disgust-
ful to the bowels, which, relaxing the belly, drives
down all before it; and this they call a purge, or a
clyster. For nature (as the physicians allege) having
intended the superior anterior orifice only for the
intromission of solids and liquids, and the inferior
posterior for ejection, these artists, ingeniously con-
sidering that in all diseases nature is forced out of
her seat, therefore, to replace her in it, the body
must be treated in a manner directly contrary, by
interchanging the use of each orifice, forcing solids
and liquids in at the anus, and making evacuations
at the mouth.
"But, besides real diseases, we are subject to
many that are only imaginary, for which the physi-
cians have invented imaginary cures: these have
their several names, and so have the drugs that are
proper for them; and with these our female Yahoos
are always infested.
"One great excellency in this tribe is their skill
at prognostics, wherein they seldom fail; their pre-
|
|
dictions in real diseases, when they rise to any de-
gree of malignity, generally portending death, which
is always in their power, when recovery is not; and
therefore, upon any unexpected signs of amendment,
after they have pronounced their sentence, rather
than be accused as false prophets, they know how to
approve their sagacity to the world, by a seasonable
dose.
They are likewise of special use to husbands
and wives who are grown weary of their mates, to
eldest sons, to great ministers of state, and often to
princes.'
I had formerly, upon occasion, discoursed with
my master upon the nature of government in gene-
ral, and particularly of our own excellent constitution,
deservedly the wonder and envy of the whole world.
But having here accidentally mentioned a minister
of state, he commanded me, some time after, to in-
form him "what species of Yahoo I particularly
meant by that appellation."
I told him "that a first or chief minister of state.
who was the person I intended to describe, was a
creature wholly exempt from joy and grief, love and
hatred, pity and anger; at least, makes use of no
other passions but a violent desire of wealth, power,
and titles; that he applies his words to all uses,
except to the indication of his mind; that he never
tells a truth but with an intent that you should take
it for a lie; nor a lie, but with a design that you
should take it for a truth; that those he speaks
worst of behind their backs are in the surest way of
preferment; and whenever he begins to praise you
to others, or to yourself, you are from that day for-
lorn. The worst mark you can receive is a promise,
especially when it is confirmed with an oath; after
which every wise man retires, and gives over all
hopes.
"There are three methods by which a man may
rise to be chief minister. The first is, by knowing
how, with prudence, to dispose of a wife, a daugh-
ter, or a sister; the second, by betraying or under-
mining his predecessor; and the third is, by a furi-
ous zeal in public assemblies, against the corruptions
of the court. But a wise prince would rather choose
to employ those who practise the last of these methods;
because such zealots prove always the most obsequi.
ous and subservient to the will and passions of their
master. That these ministers, having all employ-
ments at their disposal, preserve themselves in power
by bribing the majority of a senate or great council;
and at last, by an expedient called an act of indem-
nity (whereof I described the nature to him), they
secure themselves from after-reckonings, and retire
from the public laden with the spoils of the nation.
"The palace of chief minister is a seminary to
breed up others in his own trade: the pages, lackeys,
and porter, by imitating their master, become minis-
ters of state in their several districts, and learn to
excel in the three principal ingredients of insolence,
lying, and bribery. Accordingly, they have a sub-
altern court paid to them by persons of the best
rank; and sometimes by the force of dexterity and
impudence, arrive, through several gradations, to be
successors to their lord.
"He is usually governed by a decayed wench, or
favourite footman, who are the tunnels through
which all graces are conveyed, and may properly
be called, in the last resort, the governors of the
kingdom.”
One day, in discourse, my master having heard
me mention the nobility of my country, was pleased
to make me a compliment which I could not pretend
to deserve: "That he was sure I must have been
born of some noble family, because I far exceeded
70
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
in shape, colour, and cleanliness, all the Yahoos of
his nation, although I seemed to fail in strength and
agility, which must be imputed to my different way
of living from those other brutes; and besides, 1 was
not only endowed with the faculty of speech, but
likewise with some rudiments of reason, to a degree
that, with all his acquaintance, I passed for a
prodigy."
"that
observe,
He made me
among the
Houyhnhnms, the white, the sorrel, and the iron-
gray were not so exactly shaped as the bay, the
dapple-gray, and the black; nor born with equal
talents of mind, or a capacity to improve them; and
therefore continue always in the condition of ser-
vants, without ever aspiring to match out of their
own race, which, in that country, would be reckoned
monstrous and unnatural.'
I made his honour my most humble acknowledg-
ments for the good opinion he was pleased to con-
ceive of me, but assured him, at the same time,
"that my birth was of the lower sort, having been
born of plain honest parents, who were just able to
give me a tolerable education; that nobility among
us was altogether a different thing from the idea he
had of it; that our young noblemen are bred from
their childhood in idleness and luxury; that as soon
as years will permit, they consume their vigour, and
contract odious diseases among lewd females; and
when their fortunes are almost ruined, they marry
some woman of mean birth, disagreeable person,
and unsound constitution (merely for the sake of
money,) whom they hate and despise; that the pro-
ductions of such marriages are generally scrofulous,
rickety, or deformed children; by which means the
family seldom continues above three generations,
unless the wife takes care to provide a healthy
father, among her neighbours or domestics, in order
to improve and continue the breed; that a weak,
diseased body, a meagre countenance, and sallow
complexion, are the true marks of noble blood; and
a healthy, robust appearance is so disgraceful in a
man of quality, that the world concludes his real
father to have been a groom or a coachman. The
imperfections of his mind run parallel with those of
his body, being a composition of spleen, dulness,
ignorance, caprice, sensuality, and pride.
"Without the consent of this illustrious body, no
law can be enacted, repealed, or altered: and these
nobles have likewise the decision of all our posses-
sions, without appeal."
CHAPTER VII.
The author's great love of his native country, His master's
observations upon the constitution and administration of
England, as described by the author, with parallel cases
and comparisons. His master's observations upon human
nature.
THE reader may be disposed to wonder how I could
prevail on myself to give so free a representation of
my own species, among a race of mortals who are
already too apt to conceive the vilest opinion of
human kind, from that entire congruity between me
and their Yahoos. But I must freely confess, that the
many virtues of those excellent quadrupeds, placed
in opposite view to human corruptions, had so far
opened my eyes and enlarged my understanding,
that I began to view the actions and passions of man
in a very different light, and to think the honour of
my own kind not worth managing; which, besides, it
was impossible for me to do, before a person of so-
acute a judgment as my master, who daily convinced.
me of a thousand faults in myself, whereof I had not
the least perception before, and which, with us,
would never be numbered, even among human in-
firmities. I had likewise learned, from his example,
an utter detestation of all falsehood or disguise; and
truth appeared so amiable to me, that I determined
upon sacrificing everything to it.
Let me deal so candidly with the reader, as to
confess that there was yet a much stronger motive for
the freedom I took in my representation of things.
I had not yet been a year in this country, before I
contracted such a love and veneration for the inha-
bitants, that I entered on a firm resolution never to
return to human kind, but to pass the rest of
my life
among these admirable Houyhnhnms, in the contem-
plation and practice of every virtue, where I could
have no example or incitement to vice. But it was
decreed by fortune, my perpetual enemy, that so
great a felicity should not fall to my share. How-
ever, it is now some comfort to reflect, that in what
I said of my countrymen, I extenuated their faults
as much as I durst before so strict an examiner, and
upon every article gave as favourable a turn as the
matter would bear. For, indeed, who is there alive
that will not be swayed by his bias and partiality to
the place of his birth?
I have related the substance of several conversa-
tions I had with my master during the greatest part
of the time I had the honour to be in his service, but
have, indeed, for brevity-sake, omitted much more
than is here set down.
When I had answered all his questions, and his
curiosity seemed to be fully satisfied, he sent for me
one morning early, and commanded me to sit down
at some distance (an honour which he had never
before conferred upon me). He said, "he had been
very seriously considering my whole story, as far as
it related both to myself and my country; that he
looked upon us as a sort of animals, to whose share,
by what accident he could not conjecture, some small
pittance of reason had fallen, whereof we made no
other use, than, by its assistance, to aggravate our
natural corruptions, and to acquire new ones, which
Nature had not given us; that we disarmed ourselves
of the few abilities she had bestowed, had been
very successful in multiplying our original wants,
and seemed to spend our whole lives in vain endea-
vours to supply them by our own inventions; that
as to myself, it was manifest I had neither the
strength nor agility of a common Yahoo: that I
walked infirmly on my hinder feet, had found out a
contrivance to make my claws of no use or defence,
and to remove the hair from my chin, which was in-
tended as a shelter from the sun and the weather.
Lastly, that I could neither run with speed, nor
climb trees like my brethren," as he called them,
"the Yahoos in his country.
"That our institutions of government and law
were plainly owing to our gross defects in reason,
and by consequence in virtue; because reason alone
is sufficient to govern a rational creature; which
was, therefore, a character we had no pretence to
challenge, even from the account I had given of my
own people; although he manifestly perceived, that,
in order to favour them, I had concealed many par-
ticulars, and often said the thing which was not.
"He was the more confirmed in this opinion, be-
cause, he observed, that, as I agreed in every feature
of my body with other Yahoos, except where it was
to my real disadvantage in point of strength, speed,
and activity, the shortness of my claws, and some
other particulars where nature had no part; so, from
the representation I had given him of our lives, our
manners, and our actions, he found as near a resem-
blance in the disposition of our minds." He said,
"the Yahoos were known to hate one another more
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
71
because the plaintiff and defendant there lost nothing
besides the stone they contended for, whereas our
courts of equity would never have dismissed the
cause, while either of them had anything left.
My master, continuing his discourse, said, "there
was nothing that rendered the Yahoos more odious
than their undistinguishing appetite to devour every-
thing that came in their way, whether herbs, roots,
berries, the corrupted flesh of animals, or all mingled
together and it was peculiar in their temper, that
they were fonder of what they could get by rapine
or stealth, at a greater distance, than much better
food provided for them at home. If their prey held
out, they would eat till they were ready to burst;
after which nature had pointed out to them a certain
root that gave them a general evacuation.
than they did any different species of animals, and
the reason usually assigned was, the odiousness of
their own shapes, which all could see in the rest,
but not in themselves. He had, therefore, begun to
think it not unwise in us to cover our bodies, and
by that invention conceal many of our deformities.
from each other, which would else be hardly sup-
portable. But he now found he had been mistakoh,
and that the dissensions of those brutes in his coun-
try were owing to the same cause with ours, as I had
described them. For if," said he, "you throw among
fire Yahoos as much food as would be sufficient for
fifty, they will, instead of eating peaceably, fall to-
gether by the ears, each single one impatient to have
all to itself, and therefore a servant was usually em-
ployed to stand by while they were feeding abroad,
and those kept at home were tied at a distance from
each other; that if a cow died of age or acci-
dent, before a Houyhnhnm could secure it for his
own Yahoos, those in the neighbourhood would
come in herds to seize it, and then would ensue
such a battle as I had described, with terrible wounds,
made by their claws, on both sides, although they
seldom were able to kill one another, for want of
such convenient instruments of death as we had in-
vented. At other times, the like battles have been
fought between the Yahoos of several neighbour-only animals in this country subject to any diseases;
hoods, without any visible cause; those of one dis-
trict watching all opportunities to surprise the next,
before they are prepared. But if they find their
project has miscarried, they return home, and, for
want of enemies, engage in what I call a civil war
among themselves.
"That in some fields of his country there are cer-
tain shining stones of several colours, whereof the
Yahoos are violently fond; and when part of these
stones is fixed in the earth, as it sometimes happens,
they will dig with their claws for whole days to get
them out; then carry them away, and hide them by
heaps in their kennels, but still looking round with
great caution, for fear their comrades should find out
their treasure." My master said, "he could never
discover the reason of this unnatural appetite, or
how these stones could be of any use to a Yahoo,
but now he believed it might proceed from the same
principle of avarice which I had ascribed to man-
kind: that he had once, by way of experiment, pri-
vately removed a heap of these stones from the
place where one of his Yahoos had buried it;
whereupon the sordid animal, missing his treasure,
by his loud lamenting brought the whole herd to
the place, there miserably howled, then fell to biting
and tearing the rest, began to pine away, would nei-
ther eat, nor sleep, nor work, till he ordered a ser-
vant privately to convey the stones into the same
hole, and hide them as before; which, when his
Yahoo had found, he presently recovered his spirits
and good humour, but took care to remove them to
a better hiding-place, and has ever since been a very
serviceable brute."
My master further assured me, which I also ob-
served myself, "that in the fields where the shining
stones abound, the fiercest and most frequent battles
are fought, occasioned by perpetual inroads of the
neighbouring Yahoos."
He said, "It was common, when two Yahoo dis-
covered such a stone in a field, and were contending
which of them should be the proprietor, a third would
take the advantage, and carry it away from them
both," which my master would needs contend to
have some kind of resemblance with our suits at
law; wherein I thought it for our credit not to un-
deceive him, since the decision he mentioned was
much more equitable than many decrces among us ;
"There was also another kind of root, very juicy,
but somewhat rare and difficult to be found, which
the Yahoos sought for with much eagerness, and
would suck it with great delight: it produced in
them the same effects that wine has upon us.
would make them sometimes hug, and sometimes
tear one another: they would howl, and grin, and
chatter, and reel, and tumble, and then fall asleep
in the mud.*
It
I did indeed observe that the Yahoos were the
which, however, were much fewer than horses have
among us, and contracted, not by any ill treatment
they meet with, but by the nastiness and greediness
of that sordid brute. Neither has their language
any more than a general appellation for those mala-
dies, which is borrowed from the name of the beast,
and called neayahoo or Yahoo's evil, and the cure
prescribed is a mixture of their own dung and urine,
forcibly put down the Fahoo's throat. This I have
since often known to have been taken with success,
and do here freely recommend it to my countrymen,
for the public good, as an admirable specific against
all diseases produced by repletion.
"As to learning, government, arts, manufactures,
and the like," my master confessed, "he could find
little or no resemblance between the Yahoos of that
country and those in ours; for he only meant to ob-
serve what parity there was in our natures. He had
heard, indeed, some curious Houyhnhnms observe,
that in most herds there was a sort of ruling Yahoo,
(as among us there is generally some leading or
principal stag in a park,) who was always more de-
formed in body, and mischievous in disposition, than
any
of the rest; that this leader had usually a fa-
vourite as like himself as he could get, whose em-
ployment was to lick his master's feet and posteriors,
and drive the female Yahoos to his kennel flattery
and pimping]; for which he was now and then re-
warded with a piece of ass's flesh. This favourite
is hated by the whole herd, and therefore, to protect
himself. keeps always near the person of his leader.
He usually continues in office till a worse can be
found; but the very moment he is discarded, his suc-
cessor, at the head of all the Yahoos in that district,
young and old, male and female, come in a body,
and discharge their excrements upon him, from head
to foot. But how far this might be applicable to
our courts, and favourites, and ministers of state, my
master said I could best determine."
1 durst make no return to this malicious insinua -
tion, which debased human understanding below the
sagacity of a common hound, who has judgment
enough to distinguish and follow the cry of the
ablest dog in the pack, without being ever mis-
teken.
My master told me "there were some qualities re-
markable in the Yahoos, which he had not observed
72
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS
me to mention, or at least very slightly, in the ac-
counts I had given him of human kind." He said,
"those animals, like other brutes, had their females i
in common; but in this they differed, that the she
Yahoo would admit the males while she was preg-
nant; and that the hes would quarrel and fight
with the females, as fiercely as with each other;
both which practices were such degrees of infamous
brutality, as no other sensitive creature
arrived at.
ever
"Another thing he wondered at in the Yahoos,
was their strange disposition to nastiness and dirt;
whereas there appears to be a natural love of clean-
liness in all other animals.” As to the two former
accusations, I was glad to let them pass without any
reply, because I had not a word to offer upon them.
in defence of my species, which otherwise I cer-
tainly had done from my own inclinations. But I
could have easily vindicated human kind from the
imputation of singularity upon the last article, if
there had been any swine in that country, (as, un-
luckily for me, there were not), which although it
may be a sweeter quadruped than a Yahoo, cannot,
I humbly conceive, in justice, pretend to more
cleanliness; and so his honour himself must have
owned, if he had seen their filthy way of feeding,
and their custom of wallowing and sleeping in the
mud.
My master likewise mentioned another quality
which his servants had discovered in several Yahoos,
and to him was wholly unaccountable. He said,
"a fancy would sometimes take a Yahoo to retire
into a corner to lie down, and howl, and groan, and
spurn away all that came near him, although he
were young and fat, wanted neither food nor water;
nor did the servant imagine what could possibly
ail him. And the only remedy they found was, to
set him to hard work, after which he would infalli-
bly come to himself." To this I was silent, out of
partiality to my own kind; yet here I could plainly
discover the true seeds of spleen, which only seizes
on the lazy, the luxurious, and the rich; who, if
they were forced to undergo the same regimen, I
would undertake for the cure.
His honour had further observed, "that a female
Yahoo would often stand behind a bank or a bush,
to gaze on the young males passing by, and then ap-
pear, and
hide, using many antic gestures and
grimaces; at which time it was observed that she
had a most offensive smell; and when any of the
males advanced, would slowly retire looking often
back, and with a counterfeit show of fear, run off
into some convenient place where she knew the
male would follow her.
"At other times, if a female stranger came among
them, three or four of her own sex would get about
her and stare, and chatter, and grin, and smell her
all over, and then turn off with gestures that seemed
to express contempt and disdain."
Perhaps my master might refine a little in these
speculations which he had drawn from what he ob-
served himself, or had been told him by others;
however, I could not reflect without some amaze-
ment, and much sorrow, that the rudiments of
lewdness, coquetry, censure, and scandal, should
have place by instinct in womankind.
I expected every moment that my master would
accuse the Yahoos of those unnatural appetites in
both sexes, so common among us. But Nature, it
seems, has not been so expert a school-mistress;
and these politer pleasures are entirely the produc-
tions of Art and Reason on our side of the globe.
CHAPTER VIII.
The author relates several particulars of the Yahoos. The
great virtues of the Houyhnhnms, The education and ex-
ercise of their youth. Their general assembly.
As I ought to have understood human nature much
better than I supposed it possible for my master to
do, so it was easy to apply the character he gave of
the Yahoos to myself and my countrymen; and J
believed I could yet make further discoveries from
my own observation. I therefore often begged his
honour to let me go among the herds of Yahoos in
the neighbourhood; to which he always very gra-
ciously consented, being perfectly convinced that
the hatred I bore these brutes would never suffer
me to be corrupted by them; and his honour
ordered one of his servants a strong sorrel nag, very
honest and good-natured, to be my guard; without
whose protection I durst not undertake such adven-
tures; for I have already told the reader how much
I was pestered by these odious animals upon my
first arrival; and I afterward failed very narrowly
three or four times of falling into their clutches,
when I happened to stray at any distance without
my hanger. And I have reason to believe they had
some imagination that I was of their own species;
which I often assisted myself by stripping up my
sleeves and showing my naked arms and breasts in
their sight, when my protector was with me. At
which times they would approach as near as they
durst and imitate my actions, after the manner of
monkeys, but ever with great signs of hatred; as a
tame jackdaw with cap and stockings, is always per-
secuted by the wild ones when he happens to be got
among them.
They are prodigiously nimble from their infancy.
However, I once caught a young male of three
years old, and endeavoured by all marks of tender-
ness to make it quiet; but the little imp fell a
squalling, and scratching, and biting with such vio-
lence that I was forced to let it go; and it was high
time; for a whole troop of old ones came about us
at the noise; but finding the cub was safe, (for
away it ran,) and my sorrel nag being by, they
durst not venture near us. I observed the young
animal's flesh to smell very rank, and the stink was
somewhat between a weasel and a fox, but much
more disagreeable. I forgot another circumstance,
(and perhaps, I might have the reader's pardon if it
were wholly omitted,) that while I held the odious
vermin in my hands, it voided its filthy excrements
of a yellow liquid substance all over my clothes;
but by good fortune there was a small brook hard
by, where I washed myself as clean as I could, al-
though I durst not come into my master's presence
until I were sufficiently aired.
By what I could discover, the Yahoos appear to
be the most unteachable of all animals; their capa-
cities never reaching higher than to draw or carry
burdens. Yet I am of opinion this defect arises
chiefly from a perverse, restive disposition; for they
are cunning, malicious, treacherous, and revenge-
ful. They are strong and hardy, but of a cowardly
spirit, and by consequence insolent, abject, and
cruel. It is observed, that the red haired of both
sexes are more libidinous and mischievous than the
rest, whom yet they much exceed in strength and
activity.
The Houyhnhnms keep the Yahoos for present use
in huts not far from the house; but the rest are
sent abroad to certain fields where they dig up
roots, eat several kinds of herbs, and search about
for carrion, or sometimes catch weasels and luhimuhs,
(a sort of wild rat,) which they greedily devour.
Nature has taught them to dig deep holes with their
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
73
mails on the side of a rising ground, wherein they
lie by themselves; only the kennels of the females
are larger, sufficient to hold two or three cubs.
They swim from their infancy like frogs, and are
able to continue long under water, where they often
take fish, which the females carry home to their
young. And
And upon this occasion I hope the reader
will pardon my relating an odd adventure.
Being one day abroad with my protector, the
sorrel nag, and the weather exceeding hot, I en-
treated him to let me bathe in a river that was near.
He consented, and I immediately stript myself
stark naked, and went down softly into the stream.
It happened that a young female Yahoo, standing
behind a bank, saw the whole proceeding, and in-
flamed by desire, as the nag and I conjectured, came
running with all speed and leaped into the water,
within five yards of the place where I bathed. I
was never in my life so terribly frightened. The
nag was grazing at some distance, not suspecting
any harm.
manner.
She embraced me after a most fulsome
I roared as loud as I could, and the nag
came galloping towards me, whereupon she quitted
her grasp with the utmost reluctancy, and leaped
upon the opposite bank, where she stood gazing
and howling all the time I was putting on my clothes.
This was a matter of diversion to my master and
his family, as well as of mortification to myself; for
now I could no longer deny that I was a real Yahoo
in every limb and feature, since the females had a
natural propensity to me as one of their own species.
Neither was the hair of this brute of a red celour,
(which might have been some excuse for an appetite
a little irregular,) but black as a sloe, and her coun-
tenance did not make an appearance altogether so
hideous as the rest of her kind; for I think she
could not be above eleven years old.
Having lived three years in this country, the
reader, I suppose, will expect that I should, like
other travellers, give him some account of the man-
ners and customs of its inhabitants, which it was
indeed my principal study to learn.
As these noble Houyhnhnms are endowed by
nature with a general disposition to all virtues, and
have no conceptions or ideas of what is evil in a
rational creature, so their grand maxim is, to culti-
vate reason, and to be wholly governed by it.
Neither is reason among them a point problematical
as with us, where men can argue with plausibility
on both sides of the question, but strikes you with
immediate conviction, as it must needs do, where it
is not mingled, obscured, or discoloured, by passion
and interest. I remember it was with extreme
difficulty that I could bring my master to under-
stand the meaning of the word opinion, or how a
point could be disputable; because reason taught us
to affirm or deny only where we are certain; and
beyond our knowledge we cannot do either: so that
controversies, wranglings, disputes, and positiveness,
in false or dubious propositions, are evils unknown
among the Houyhnhnms. In the like manner, when
I used to explain to him our several systems of na-
tural philosophy, he would laugh, "that a creature
pretending to reason should value itself upon the
knowledge of other people's conjectures, and in
things where that knowledge, if it were certain,
could be of no use." Wherein he agreed entirely
with the sentiments of Socrates, as Plato delivers
them; which I mention as the highest honour I can
do to that prince of philosophers. I have often
since reflected what destruction such doctrine would
make in the libraries of Europe, and how many
paths of fame would be then shut up in the learned
world.
Friendship and benevolence are the two principal
virtues among the Houyhnhnms, and these not con-
fined to particular objects, but universal to the
whole race; for a stranger from the remotest part
is equally treated with the nearest neighbour, and
wherever he goes looks upon himself as at home.
They preserve decency and civility in the highest
degrees, but are altogether ignorant of ceremony.
They have no fondness for their colts or foals, but
the care they take in educating them proceeds en-
tirely from the dictates of reason. And I observed
my master to show the same affection to his neigh-
bour's issue that he had for his own. They will
have it that nature teaches them to love the whole
species, and it is reason only that makes a distinc-
tion of persons, where there is a superior degree of
virtue.
When the matron Houyhnhnms have produced
one of each sex, they no longer accompany with
their consorts, except they lose one of their issue by
some casualty, which very seldom happens; but in
such a case they meet again; or when the like acci-
dent befalls a person whose wife is past bearing,
some other couple bestow on him one of their own
colts, and then go together again until the mother is
pregnant. This caution is necessary to prevent the
country from being overburdened with numbers.
But the race of inferior Houyhnhnms, bred up to be
servants, is not so strictly limited upon this article ;
these are allowed to produce three of each sex, to be
domestics in the noble families.
In their marriages they are exactly careful to
choose such colours as will not make any disagree-
able mixture in the breed. Strength is chiefly va-
lued in the male, and comeliness in the female; not
upon the account of love, but to preserve the race
from degenerating; for where a female happens to
excel in strength, a consort is chosen with regard to
comeliness.
Courtship, love, presents, jointures, settlements,
have no place in their thoughts, or terms whereby
to express them in their language. The young cou-
ple meet and are joined, merely because it is the
determination of their parents and friends; it is
what they see done every day, and they look upon
it as one of the necessary actions of a reasonable
being. But the violation of marriage, or any other
unchastity, was never heard of; and the married
pair pass their lives with the same friendship and
mutual benevolence that they bear to all others of
the same species who come in their way, without
jealousy, fondness, quarrelling, or discontent.
In educating the youth of both sexes, their me-
thod is admirable, and highly deserves our imitation.
These are not suffered to taste a grain of oats, ex-
cept upon certain days till eighteen years old; nor
milk, but very rarely; and in summer they graze
two hours in the morning and as many in the even-
ing, which their parents likewise observe: but the
servants are not allowed above half that time, and a
great part of their grass is brought home, which they
eat at the most convenient hours, when they can be
best spared from work.
Temperance, industry, exercise and cleanliness,
are the lessons equally enjoined to the young ones
of both sexes, and my master thought it monstrous
in us to give the females a different kind of educa-
tion from the males, except in articles of domestic
management; whereby, as he truly observed, one
half of our natives were good for nothing but bring-
ing children into the world; and to trust the care
of our children to such useless animals, he said, was
yet a greater instance of brutality.
But the Houyhnhnms train up their youth to
7+
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
srength, speed, and hardiness, by exercising them
in running races up and down steep hills, and over
hard stony grounds; and when they are all in a
sweat, they are ordered to leap over head and ears
into a pond or river. Four times a year the youth
of a certain district meet to show their proficiency
in running and leaping, and other feats of strength
and agility, where the victor is rewarded with a
song in his or her praise. On this festival the ser-
vants drive a herd of Yahoos into the field, laden
with hay, and oats, and milk, for a repast to the
Houyhnhnms; after which these brutes are imme-
diately driven back again, for fear of being noisome
to the assembly.
Every fourth year at the vernal equinox, there is
a representative council of the whole nation, which
meets in a plain about twenty miles from our house,
and continues about five or six days. Here they
inquire into the state and condition of the several
districts; whether they abound or be deficient in
hay or oats, or cows or Yahoos? and wherever there
is any want, (which is but seldom) it is immediately
supplied by unanimous consent and contribution.
Here likewise the regulation of children is settled;
as for instance, if a Houyhnhnm has two males, he
changes one of them with another that has two
females; and when a child has been lost by any
casualty where the mother is past breeding, it is
determined what family in the district shall breed
another to supply the loss.
CHAPTER IX.
A grand debate at the general assembly of the Houyhnhnms,
and how it was determined. The learning of the Houy-
huhnms. Their buildings. Their manner of burials. The
defectiveness of their language.
ONE of these grand assemblies was held in my
time, about three months before my departure, whi-
ther my master went as the representative of our
district. In this council was resumed their old de-
bate, and indeed the only debate that ever happened
in their country; whereof my master after his
return gave me a very particular account.
The question to be debated was, "Whether the
Yahoos should be exterminated from the face of the
earth ?" One of the members for the affirmative
offered several arguments of great strength and
weight, alleging, "that as the Yahoos were the
most filthy, noisome, and deformed animals which
nature ever produced, so they were the most restive
and indocible, mischievous and malicious. They
would privately suck the teats of the Houyhnhnms'
cows, kill and devour their cats, trample down their
oats and grass if they were not continually watched,
and commit a thousand other extravagancies." He
took notice of a general tradition, "that Yahoos had
not been always in their country, but that many
ages ago two of these brutes appeared together upon
a mountain; whether produced by the heat of the
sun upon corrupted mud and slime, or from the
ooze and froth of the sea, was never known that
these Yahoos engendered, and their brood in a short
time grew so numerous as to overrun and infest the
whole nation: that the Houyhnhnms, to get rid of
this evil made a general hunting, and at last enclosed
the whole herd; and destroying the elder, every
Houyhnhnm kept two young ones in a kennel, and
brought them to such a degree of tameness, as an
animal so savage by nature can be capable of ac-
quiring; using them for draught and carriage: that
there seemed to be much truth in this tradition, and
that those creatures could not be ylnhniamshy, (or
aborigines of the land,) because of the violent hatred
the Houyhnhnms as well as all other animals bore
:
|
them; which although their evil disposition suffi-.
ciently deserved, could never have arrived at so
high a degree if they had been aborigines; or else
they would have long since been rooted out: that
the inhabitants, taking a fancy to use the service of
the Yahoos, had very imprudently neglected to cul-
tivate the breed of asses, which are a comely animal,
easily kept, more tame and orderly, without any
offensive smell; strong enough for labour, although
they yield to the other in agility of body; and if
their braying be no agreeable sound, it is far pre-
ferable to the horrible howlings of the Yahoos."
He
Several others declared their sentiments to the
same purpose, when my master proposed an expe-
dient to the assembly, whereof he had indeed bor-
rowed the hint from me. "He approved of the
tradition mentioned by the honourable member who
spoke before, and affirmed that the two Yahoos, said
to be the first seen among them, had been driven
thither over the sea; that coming to land and being
forsaken by their companions, they retired to the
mountains, and degenerating by degrees, became in
process of time much more savage than those of
their own species in the country whence these two
originals came. The reason of this assertion was,
that he had now in his possession a certain wonder-
ful Yahoo, (meaning myself,) which most of them
had heard of, and many of them had seen.
then related to them how he first found me; that
my body was all covered with an artificial compo-
sure of the skins and hairs of other animals; that I
spoke in a language of my own and had thoroughly
learned theirs; that I had related to him the acci-
dents which brought me thither; that when he saw
me without my covering, I was an exact Yahoo in
every part, only of a whiter colour, less hairy, and
with shorter claws. He added how I had endea-
voured to persuade him, that in my own and other
countries, the Yahoos acted as the governing, ra-
tional animal, and held the Houyhnhnms in servi-
tude; that he observed in me all the qualities of a
Yahoo, only a little more civilized by some tincture
of reason; which however, was in a degree as far
inferior to the Houyhnhnm race, as the Yahoos of
their country were to me; that among other things,
I mentioned a custom we had of castrating Houy-
hnhnms when they were young, in order to render
them tame; that the operation was easy and safe;
that it was no shame to learn wisdom from brutes,
as industry is taught by the ant, and building by the
swallow; (for so I translate the word lyhannh, al-
though it be a much larger fowl;) that this inven-
tion might be practised upon the younger Yahoos
here, which beside rendering them tractable and
fitter for use, would in an age, put an end to the
whole species without destroying life; that in the
meantime the Houyhnhnms should be exhorted to
cultivate the breed of asses, which, as they are in all
respects more valuable brutes, so they have this ad-
vantage, to be fit for service at five years old, which
the others are not till twelve."
But
This was all my master thought fit to tell me at
that time, of what passed in the grand council.
he was pleased to conceal one particular which re-
lated personally to myself, whereof I soon felt the
unhappy effect, as the reader will know in its proper
place, and whence I date all the succeeding mis-
fortunes of my life.
The Houyhnhnms have no letters, and conse-
quently their knowledge is all traditional; but there
happening few events of any moment among a
people so well united, naturally disposed to every
virtue, wholly governed by reason, and cut off from
all commerce with other nations, the historical part
A VOYAGE TO THE HOLYHNHNMS.
75
is easily preserved without burdening their memo-
ries. I have already observed that they are subject
to no diseases, and therefore can have no need of
physicians. However, they have excellent medi-
cines, composed of herbs, to cure accidental bruises
and cuts in the pastern or frog of the foot, by sharp
stones, as well as other maims and hurts in the
several parts of the body.
They calculate the year by the revolution of the
sun and the moon, but use no subdivisions into
weeks. They are well enough acquainted with the
motions of those two luminaries, and understand the
nature of eclipses; and this is the utmost progress
of their astronomy.
They live generally to seventy or seventy-fie
years, very seldom to fourscore. Some weeks before
their death they feel a gradual decay, but without
pain. During this time they are much visited by
their friends, because they cannot go abroad with
However, about
their usual ease and satisfaction.
ten days before their death, which they seldom fail
in computing, they return the visits that have been
made them by those who are nearest in the neigh-
bourhood, being carried in a convenient sledge
drawn by Yahoos; which vehicle they use, not only
upon this occasion, but when they grow old, upon
long journeys, or when they are lamed by any accident.
And therefore when the dying Houyhnhnms return
those visits, they take a solemn leave of their friends, as
if they were going to some remote part of the country,
where they designed to pass the rest of their lives.
I know not whether it may be worth observing,
that the Houyhnhnms have no word in their lan-
guage to express anything that is evil, except what
they borrow from the deformities or ill qualities of
the Yahoos. Thus they denote the folly of a ser-
vant, an omission of a child, a stone that cuts their
feet, a continuance of foul or unseasonable weather,
and the like, by adding to each the epithet of Yahoo.
For instance-hhnm Yahoo, chnaholm Yahoo, ynth-
mndwihlma Yahoo, and an ill-contrived house,
In poetry they must be allowed to excel all other
mortals, wherein the justness of their similies and
the minuteness, as well as exactness of their de-
scriptions, are indeed inimitable. Their verses
abound very much in both of these, and usually con-
tain either some exalted notions of friendship and
benevolence, or the praises of those who were vic-
tors in races and other bodily exercises. Their
buildings, although very rude and simple, are not
inconvenient but well contrived to defend them
from all injuries of cold and heat. They have a
kind of tree, which, at forty years old, locsens in the
root, and falls with the first storm: it grows very
straight, and, being pointed like stakes with a sharpynholmhumrohlaw Yahoo.
stone, (for the Houyhnhnms know not the use of
iron,) they stick them erect in the ground, about
ten inches asunder, and then weave in oat-straw, or
sometimes wattles between them. The roof is
made after the same manner and so are the doors.
The Houyhnhnms use the hollow pait between
the pastern and the hoof of the fore-feet, as we do
our hands, and this with greater dexterity than I
could at first imagine. I have seen a white mare of
our family thread a needle (which I lent her on
purpose) with that joint. They milk their cows,
reap their oats, and do all the work which requires
hands in the same manner. They have a kind of
hard flints, which, by grinding against other stones,
they form into instruments that serve instead of
wedges, axes, and hammers. With tools made of
these flints, they likewise cut their hay and reap
their oats, which there grow naturally in several
fields; the Yahoos draw home their sheaves in car-
riages, and the servants tread them in certain covered
huts to get out the grain which is kept in stores.
They make a rude kind of earthen and wooden ves-
sels, and bake the former in the sun.
If they can avoid casualties, they die only of old
age, and are buried in the obscurest places that can
be found; their friends and relations expressing
neither joy nor grief at their departure; nor does
the dying person discover the least regret that he is
leaving the world, any more than if he were upon
returning home from a visit to one of his neighbours.
I remember my master having once made an ap-
pointment with a friend and his family to come to
his house upon some affair of importance; on the
day fixed, the mistress and her two children came
very late; she made two excuses; first for her hus-
band, who, as she said happened that very morning
to lhnuwnh. The word is strongly expressive in
their language, but not easily rendered into Eng-
lish. It signifies, "to retire to his first mother."
Her excuse for not coming sooner was, that her
husband dying late in the morning, she was a good
while consulting her servants about a convenient
place where his body should be laid; and I ob-
served she behaved herself at our house as cheer-
fully as the rest. She died about three months
after.
I could, with great pleasure, enlarge further upon
the manners and virtues of this excellent people;
but intending in a short time to publish a volume
by itself. expressly upon that subject, I refer the
reader thither, and in the mean time proceed to re-
late my own sad catastrophe.
CHAPTER X.
The author's economy and happy life among the Houyhn
hums. His great improvement in virtue, by conversing with
them. Their conversations. The author has notice given
him by his master. that he must depart from the country.
He falls into a swoon from griet, but submits. He contrives
and finishes a canoe by the help of a fellow-servant, and puts
to sea at a veuture.
:
I HAD settled my little economy to my own heart's
content. My master had ordered a room to be
made for me, after their manner, about six yards
from the house, the sides and floors of which I plas-
tered with clay, and covered with rush-mats of my
own contriving. I had beaten hemp, which there
grows wild, and made of it a sort of ticking this I
filled with the feathers of several birds I had taken
with springes made of Yahoos' hairs, and were ex-
cellent food. I had worked two chairs with my
knife, the sorrel nag helping me in the grosser and
more laborious part. When my clothes were worn
to rags, I made myself others with the skins of
rabbits, and of a certain beautiful animal about the
same size, called nnuhnoh, the skin of which is
covered with a fine down. Of these I also made
very tolerable stockings. I soled my shoes with
wood, which I cut from a tree and fitted to the
upper leather; and when this was worn out, I sup-
plied it with the skins of Yahoos dried in the sun.
1
often got honey out of hollow trees, which I
mingled with water or ate with my bread. No man
could more verify the truth of these two maximis,
"That nature is very easily satisfied;" and, "That
necessity is the mother of invention." I enjoyed per-
fect health of body and tranquillity of mind; I did
not feel the treachery or inconstancy of a friend, nor
the injuries of a secret or open enemy; I had no
occasion of bribing, flattering, or pimping, to pro-
a The author has intentionally made use of inaccurate ex-
pression and studied negligence in order to make the styl
more like that of a sea-faring man.
76
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
be prouder to listen, than to dictate to the greatest
and wisest assembly in Europe. I admired the
strength, comeliness, and speed of the inhabitants,
and such a constellation of virtues, in such amiable
persons, produced in me the highest veneration. At
the Yahoos, and all other animals, bear towards
them; but it grew upon me by degrees, much sooner
than I imagined, and was mingled with a respectful
love and gratitude, that they would condescend to
distinguish me from the rest of my species.
cure the favour of any great man or of his minion; I
wanted no fence against fraud or oppression; here
was neither physician to destroy my body nor lawyer
to ruin my fortune; no informer to watch my words
and actions or forge accusations against me for hire :
here were no gibers, censurers. backbiters, pick-first, indeed, I did not feel that natural awe which
pockets, highwaymen, housebreakers, attorneys,
bawds, buffoons, gamesters, politicians, wits, sple-
netics, tedious talkers, controvertists, ravishers,
murderers, robbers, virtuosoes; no leaders or fol-
lowers of party and faction; no encouragers to vice,
by seducement or examples; no dungeon, axes, gib-
bets, whipping-posts or pillories; no cheating shop-
keepers or mechanics; no pride, vanity, or affecta-
tion; no fops, bullies, drunkards, strolling whores,
or poxes; no ranting, lewd, expensive wives; no
stupid, proud pedants; no importunate, over-bear-
ing, quarrelsome, noisy, roaring, empty, conceited,
swearing companions; no scoundrels raised from the
dust upon the merit of their vices, or nobility thrown
into it on account of their virtues; no lords, fiddlers,
judges, or dancing-masters.
I had the favour of being admitted to several
Houyhnhams who came to visit or dine with my
master, where his honour graciously suffered me to
wait in the room, and listen to their discourse.
Both he and his company would often descend to
ask me questions, and receive my answers. I had
also sometimes the honour of attending my master
in his visits to others. I never presumed to speak,
except in answer to a question; and then 1 did it
with inward regret, because it was a loss of so much
time for improving myself: but I was infinitely
delighted with the station of an humble auditor in
such conversations, where nothing passed but what
was useful, expressed in the fewest and most signi-
ficant words; where, as I have already said, the
greatest decency was observed, without the least
degree of ceremony; where no person spoke without
being pleased himself, and pleasing his companions;
where there was no interruption, tediousness, heat,
or difference of sentiments. They have a notion,
that when people are met together, a short silence
does much improve conversation: this I found to be
true; for during those little intermissions of talk,
new ideas would arise in their minds, which very
much enlivened the discourse. Their subjects are
generally on friendship and benevolence, on order
and economy; sometimes upon the visible opera-
tions of nature, or ancient traditions; upon the
neunds and limits of virtue; upon the unerring rules
of reason; or upon some determinations to be taken
at the next great assembly; and often upon the ra-
rious excellencies of poetry. I may add, without
vanity, that my presence often gave them sufficient
matter for discourse, because it afforded my master
an occasion of letting his friends into the history of
me and my country, upon which they were all
pleased to descant, in a manner not very advantage-
cus to human kind; and for that reason I shall not
repeat what they said: only, I may be allowed to
observe, that his honour, to my great admiration,
appeared to understand the nature of Yahoos much
better than myself. He went through all our vices
and follies, and discovered many, which I had never
mentioned to him, by only supposing what qualities
a Yahoo of their country, with a small proportion
of reason, might be capable of exerting; and con-
cluded, with too much probability, "how vile, as well
as miserable, such a creature must be."
I freely confess, that all the little knowledge I
have, of any value, was acquired by the lectures I
received from my master, and from hearing the dis-
courses of him and his friends: to which I should'
When I thought of my family, my friends, my
countrymen, or the human race in general, I consi-
dered them, as they really were, Yahoos in shape and
disposition, perhaps a little more civilized, and quali-
fied with the gift of speech, but making no other use
of reason than to improve and multiply those vices
whereof their brethren in this country had only the
share that nature allotted them. When I happened
to behold the reflection of my own form in a lake or
a fountain, I turned away my face in horror and de-
testation of myself, and could better endure the
sight of a common Yahoo, than of my own person.
By conversing with the Houyhnhnms, and looking
upon them with delight, I fell to imitate their gait
and gesture, which is now grown into a habit; and
my friends often tell me, in a blunt way, "that I trot
like a horse," which, however, I take for a great com-
pliment. Neither shall I disown, that in speaking I
am apt to fall into the voice and manner of the
Houyhnhnms, and hear myself ridiculed on that ac-
count, without the least mortification.
In the midst of all this happiness, and when I
looked upon myself to be fully settled for life, my
master sent for me one morning a little earlier than
his usual hour. I observed by his countenance that
he was in some perplexity, and at a loss how to be-
gin what he had to speak. After a short silence, he
told me,
"he did not know how I would take what
he was going to say. That in the last general as-
sembly, when the affair of the Yahoos was entered
upon, the representatives had taken offence at his
keeping a Yahoo (meaning myself) in his family,
more like a Houyhnhnm than a brute animal: that
he was known frequently to converse with me, as if
he could receive some advantage or pleasure in my
company; that such a practice was not agreeable to
reason or nature, or a thing ever heard of before
among them. The assembly did therefore exhort
him either to employ me like the rest of my species,
or command mne to swim back to the place whence
I came. That the first of these expedients was ut-
terly rejected by all the Houyhnhnms who had ever
seen me at his house or their own; for they alleged,
that because I had some rudiments of reason added
to the natural pravity of those animals, it was to be
feared I might be able to seduce them into the
woody and mountainous parts of the country, and
bring them in troops by night to destroy the Houyhn-
hnms' cattle, as being naturally of the ravenous
kind, and averse from labour."
My master added, "That he was daily pressed by
the Houyhnhnms of the neighbourhood to have the
assembly's exhortation executed, which he could not
put off much longer. He doubted it would be im-
possible for me to swim to another country, and
therefore wished I would contrive some sort of ve-
hicle, resembling those I had described to him, that
might carry me on the sea; in which work I should
have the assistance of his own servants, as well as
That,
those of his neighbours." He concluded, "
for his own part, he could have been content to keep
me in his service as long as I lived, because he
found I had cured myself of some bad habits and
£
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
dispositions, by endeavouring, as far as my inferior
nature was capable, to imitate the Houyhnhnms.”
I should here observe to the reader, that a decree
of the general assembly in this country is expressed
by the word hnhloayn, which signifies an exhorta-
tion. as near as I can render it; for they have no
conception how a rational creature can be compelled,
but only advised or exhorted, because no person can
disobey reason, without giving up his claim to be-
ing a rational creature.
very artificially, after their manner, to a wooden han-
dle, cut down several oak wattles, about the thick-
ness of a walking-staff, and some larger pieces. But
I shall not trouble the reader with a particular de-
scription of my own mechanics; let it suffice to say,
that in six weeks' time, with the help of the sorrel
nag, who performed the parts that required most
labour, I finished a sort of Indian canoe, but much
larger, covering it with the skins of Yahoos, well
stitched together with hempen threads of my own
making. My sail was likewise composed of the
skins of the same animal; but I made use of the
youngest I could get, the older being too tough and
thick; and I likewise provided myself with four
paddles. I laid in a stock of boiled flesh, of rabbits
and fowls, and took with me two vessels, one filled
with milk, and the other with water.
I tried my canoe in a large pond near my master's
house, and then corrected in it what was amiss, stop-
it stanch, and able to bear me and my freight; and
when it was as complete as I could possibly make it,
I had it drawn on a carriage very gently by Yahoos
to the sea-side, under the conduct of the sorrel nag
and another servant.
I was struck with the utmost grief and despair at
my master's discourse; and being unable to support
the agonies I was under, I fell into a swoon at his
feet. When I came to myself, he told me, "that he
concluded I had been dead; for these people are
subject to no such imbecilities of nature.
I an-
swered in a faint voice, "That death would have
been too great a happiness; that although I could
not blame the assembly's exhortation, or the urgency
of his friends, yet, in my weak and corrupt judg-ping all the chinks with Yahoos' tallow, till I found
ment, I thought it might consist with reason to have
been less rigorous; that I could not swim a league,
and probably the nearest land to theirs might be
distant above a hundred; that many materials, ne-
cessary for making a small vessel to carry me off,
were wholly wanting in this country; which, how-
ever I would attempt in obedience and gratitude to
his honour, although I concluded the thing to be
impossible, and therefore looked on myself as already
devoted to destruction; that the certain prospect of
an unnatural death was the least of my evils; for
supposing I should escape with life, by some strange
adventure, how could I think with temper of passing
my days among Yahoos, and relapsing into my old cor-
ruptions, for want of examples to lead and keep me
within the paths of virtue? that I knew too well
upon what solid reasons all the determinations of the
wise Houyhnhnms were founded, not to be shaken
by arguments of mine, a miserable Yahoo ; and
therefore, after presenting him with my humble
thanks for the offer of his servants' assistance in
making a vessel, and desiring a reasonable time for
so difficult a work, I told him I would endeavour to
preserve a wretched being; and if ever I returned to
England, was not without hopes of being useful to
my own species, by celebrating the praises of the re-
nowned Houyhnhnms, and proposing their virtues to
the imitation of mankind."
My master, in a few words, made me a very gra-
cious reply; allowed me the space of two months to
finish my boat; and ordered the sorrel nag, my fel-
low-servant, (for so, at this distance, I may presume
to call him) to follow my instructions; because I
told my master "that his help would be sufficient,
and I knew he had a tenderness for me."
In his company, my first business was to go to
that part of the coast where my rebellious crew had
ordered me to be set on shore. I got upon a height,
and looking on every side into the sea, fancied I saw
a small island toward the north-east. I took out my
pocket-glass, and could then clearly distinguish it,
about five leagues off, as I computed; but it ap-
peared to the sorrel nag to be only a blue cloud; for
as he had no conception of any country beside his
own, so he could not be as expert in distinguishing
remote objects at sea, as we who so much converse
in that element.
After I had discovered this island, I considered
no further, but resolved it should, if possible, be the
first place of my banishment, leaving the conse-
quenoe to fortune.
I returned home, and consulting with the sorrel
nag, we went into a copse at some distance, where I
with my knife, and he with a sharp flint, fastened
When all was ready, and the day came for my de-
parture, I took leave of my master and lady and the
whole family-my eyes flowing with tears, and my
heart quite sunk with grief. But his honour, out of
curiosity, and perhaps (if I may speak it without
vanity) partly out of kindness, was determined to
see me in my canoe, and got several of his neigh-
bouring friends to accompany him. I was forced to
wait above an hour for the tide, and then, observing
the wind very fortunately bearing towards the island
to which I intended to steer my course, I took a
second leave of my master; but, as I was going to
prostrate myself to kiss his hoof, he did me the
honour to raise it gently to my mouth. I am not
ignorant how much I have been censured for men-
tioning this last particular. Detractors are pleased
to think it improbable that so illustrious a person
should descend to give so great a mark of distinction
to a creature so inferior as I. Neither have I for-
gotten how apt some travellers are to boast of extra-
ordinary favours they have received. But if these
censurers were better acquainted with the noble and
courteous disposition of the Houyhnhnms, they
would soon change their opinion.
I paid my respects to the rest of the Houyhnhnms
in his honour's company, then, getting into my
canoe, I pushed off from shore.
CHAPTER XI.
The author's dangerous voyage. He arrives at New Holland,
hoping to settle there. Is wounded with an arrow by one
of the natives. Is seized. and carried by force into a Portu-
guese ship. The great civilities of the captain The author
arrives at England.
I BEGAN this desperate voyage on February 15,
1714-15, at nine o'clock in the morning. The wind
was very favourable: however, I made use at first
only of my paddles; but considering I should soon
be weary, and that the wind might chop about, I
ventured to set up my little sail; and thus, with
the help of the tide, I went at the rate of a league
and a half an hour, as near as I could guess. My
master and his friends continued on the shore till I
was almost out of sight; and I often heard the sorrel
nag (who always loved me) crying out, "Hnuy illa
nyha, majah Yahoo," "Take care of thyself, genɩle
Yahoo."
My design was, if possible, to discover some small
island uninhabited, yet sufficient by my labour, to
78
GULLIVER'S IRAVELS.
f
furnish me with the necessaries of life, which I
would have thought a greater happiness than to be
first minister in the politest court of Europe; so
horrible was the idea I conceived of returning to
live in the society, and under the government of
Yahoos. For in such a solitude as I desired, I
could at least enjoy my own thoughts, and reflect
with delight on the virtues of those inimitable Houy-
hnhnms, without any opportunity of degenerating
into the vices and corruptions of my own species.
""
The reader may remember what I related when
my crew conspired against me, and confined me to
my cabin; how I continued there several weeks,
without knowing what course we took; and when
I was put a shore in the long-boat, how the sailors
told me with oaths, whether true or false, "That
they knew not in what part of the world we were.'
However, I did then believe us to be about 10 de-
grees southward of the Cape of Good Hope, or
about 45 degrees southern latitude, as I gathered
from some general words I overheard among them,
being, I supposed, to south-east in their intended
voyage to Madagascar. And although this were
little better than conjecture, yet I resolved to steer
my course eastward, hoping to reach the south-west
coast of New Holland, and perhaps some such
island as I desired, lying westward of it. The wind
was full west; and by six in the evening I computed
I had gone eastward at least eighteen leagues, when
I spied a very small island about half a league off,
which I soon reached. It was nothing but a rock,
It was nothing but a rock,
with one creek, naturally arched, by the force of
tempests. Here I put in my canoe, and climbing
a part of the rock, I could plainly discover land to
the east, extending from south to north. I lay all
night in my canoe, and repeating my voyage early
in the morning, I arrived in seven hours to the south-
east point of New Holland. This confirmed me
in the opinion I have long entertained, that the maps.
and charts place this country at least three degrees
more to the east than it really is; which thought
communicated many years ago to my worthy friend
Mr. Herman Moll, and gave him my reasons for
it, although he has rather chosen to follow other
authors.
I saw no inhabitants in the place where I landed,
and being un armed, I was afraid of venturing far
into the country. I found some shell-fish on the
shore, and ate them raw, not daring to kindle a fire,
for fear of being discovered by the natives. I con-
tinued three days feeding on oysters and limpets, to
save my own provision; and I fortunately found a
brook of excellent water, which gave me great relief.
On the fourth day, venturing out early a little too
far, I saw twenty or thirty natives upon a height,
not above five hundred yards from me. They were
stark naked, men, women, and children, round a
fire, as I could discover by the smoke. One of them
spied me, and gave notice to the rest; five of them
advanced toward me, leaving the women and chil-
dren at the fire. I made what haste I could to the
shore, and getting into my canoe, shoved off; the
savages observing me retreat, ran after me, and be-
fore I could get far enough into the sea, discharged
an arrow, which wounded me deeply on the inside
of my left knee; I shall carry the mark to my grave.
I apprehended the arrow might be poisoned; and
paddling out of the reach of their darts, (being a
calm day), I made a shift to suck the wound, and
dress it as well as I could.
1
I was at a loss what to do: for I durst not return
to the same landing-place, but stood to the north,
and was forced to paddle; for the wind, though very
gentle, was against me, blowing north west.
As I
|
was looking about for a secure landing-place, I saw
a sail to the north-north-east, which appearing every
minute more visible, I was in some doubt whether I
should wait for them or not; but at last my detesta-
tion of the Yahoo race prevailed, and turning my
canoe, I sailed and paddled together to the south,
and got into the same creek whence I set out in the
morning, choosing rather to trust myself among these
barbarians, than live with European Yahoos. I drew
up my canoe as close as I could to the shore, and
hid myself behind a stone by the little brook, which,
as I have already said, was excellent water.
The ship came within half a league of this creek,
and sent her long-boat with vessels to take in fresh
water; (for the place, it seems,
place, it seems, was very well
known;) but I did not observe it, till the boat was
almost on shore, and it was too late to seek another
hiding-place. The seamen at their landing observed
my canoe, and rummaging it all over, easily conjec-
tured that the owner could not be far off. Four of
them well armed searched every cranny and lurking-
hole, till at last they found me, flat on my face, be-
hind the stone. They gazed awhile in admiration
at my strange uncouth dress; my coat made of
skins, my wooden-soled shoes, and my furred stock-
ings; whence, however, they concluded I was not
a native of the place, who all go naked. One of
the seamen, in Portuguese, bid me rise, and asked
who I was. I understood that language very well,
and getting upon my feet, said, "I was a poor
Yahoo, banished from the Houyhnhnms, and desired
they would please to let me depart." They admired
to hear me answer them in their own tongue, and
saw by my complexion I must be a European; but
were at a loss to know what I meant by Yahoos
and Houyhnhnms; and at the same time, fell a
laughing at my strange tone in speaking, which re-
sembled the neighing of a horse. I trembled all
the while, betwixt fear and hatred. I again desired
leave to depart, and was gently moving to my canoe;
but they laid hold of me, desiring to know "what
country I was of? whence I came?" with many
other questions. I told them "I was born in Eng-
land, whence I came about five years ago, and then
their country and ours were at peace. I therefore
hoped they would not treat me as an enemy, since
I meant them no harm, but was a poor Yahoo seek-
ing some desolate place where to pass the remainder
of his unfortunate life."
•
When they began to talk, I thought I never heard
or saw anything so unnatural; for it appeared to me
as monstrous as if a dog or a cow should speak in
England, or
England, or a Yahoo in Houyhnhnmland. The
honest Portuguese were equally amazed at my
strange dress, and the odd manner of delivering my
words, which, however, they understood very well.
They spoke to me with great humanity, and said,
"They were sure the captain would carry me gratis
to Lisbon, whence, I might return to my own coun-
try; that two of the seamen would go back to the
ship, inform the captain of what they had seen, and
receive his orders; in the mean time, unless I would
give my solemn oath not to fly, they would secure
me by force." I thought it best to comply with
their proposal. They were very curious to know
my story, but I gave them very little satisfaction,
and they all conjectured that my misfortunes had
impaired my reason. In two hours, the boat, which
went loaden with vessels of water, returned with
the captain's command to fetch me on board. I fell
on my knees to preserve my liberty but all was in
vain; and the men, having tied me with cords,
heaved me into the boat, whence I was taken into
the ship, and thence into the captain's cabin.
1
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
79
men.
His name was Pedro de Mendez; he was a very
courteous and generous person. He entreated me
to give some account of myself, and desired to know
what I would eat or drink; said, "I should be used
as well as himself;" and spoke so many obliging
things, that I wondered to find such civilities from
a Yahoo. However, I remained silent and sullen ;
I was ready to faint at the very smell of him and his
At last I desired something to eat out of my
own canoe; but he ordered me a chicken, and some
excellent wine, and then directed that I should be
I would not un-
put to bed in a very clean cabin.
dress myself, but lay on the bed-clothes, and in half
an hour stole out, when I thought the crew was at
dinner, and getting to the side of the ship, was going
to leap into the sea, and swim for my life, rather
than continue among Yahoos. But one of the sea-
men prevented me, and having informed the captain,
I was chained to my cabin.
After dinner Don Pedro came to me, and desired
to know my reason for so desperate an attempt; as-
sured me,
"he only meant to do me all the service
he was able;" and spoke so very movingly, that at
last I descended to treat him like an animal which
had some little portion of reason. I gave him a very
short relation of my voyage; of the conspiracy
against me by my own men; of the country where
they set me on shore, and of my five years' residence
there. All which he looked upon as if it were a
dream or a vision; whereat I took great offence;
for I had quite forgot the faculty of lying, so peculiar
to Yahoos, in all countries where they preside, and
consequently the disposition of suspecting truth in
others of their own species. I asked him, “Whe-
ther it were the custom in his country to say the
thing which was not?" I assured him, “I had almost
forgot what he meant by falsehood, and if I had
lived a thousand years in Houyhnhnmland, I should
never have heard a lie from the meanest servant ;
that I was altogether indifferent whether he believed
me or not but, however, in return for his favours,
I would give so much allowance to the corruption
of his nature, as to answer any objection he would
please to make, and then he might easily discover
the truth."
The captain, a wise man, after many endeavours
to catch me tripping in some part of my story, at
last began to have a better opinion of my veracity.
But he added, "that since I professed so inviolable
an attachment to truth, I must give him my word
and honour to bear him company in this voyage,
without attempting anything against my life; or
else he would continue me a prisoner till we arrived
at Lisbon." I gave him the promise he required;
but at the same time protested, "that I would suffer
the greatest hardships, rather than return to live
among Yahoos.
the crew.
Our voyage passed without any considerable ac-
cident. In gratitude to the captain, I sometimes
sat with him at his earnest request, and strove to
conceal my antipathy against humankind, although
it often broke out; which he suffered to pass with-
out observation. But the greatest part of the day I
confined myself to my cabin, to avoid sceing any of
The captain had often entreated me to
strip myself of my savage dress, and offered to lend
me the best suit of clothes he had. This I would
not be prevailed on to accept, abhorring to cover
myself with anything that had been on the back
of a Yahoo. I only desired he would lend me two
clean shirts, which having been washed since he
wore them, I believed would not so much defile me.
These I changed every second day, and washed them
myself.
We arrived at Lisbon, Nov. 5, 1715. At cur
landing the captain forced me to cover myself with
his cloak, to prevent the rabble from crowding about
me. I was conveyed to his own house; and at my
earnest request he led me up to the highest room
backwards. I conjured him to conceal from all per-
sons what I had told him of the Houyhnhnms; be-
cause the least hiut of such a story would not only
draw numbers of people to see me, but probably put
me in danger of being imprisoned, or burnt by the
Inquisition. The captain persuaded me to accept
of a suit of clothes newly made; but I would not
suffer the tailor to take my measure; however, Don
Pedro being almost of my size, they fitted me well
enough. He accoutred me with other necessaries,
all new, which I aired for twenty-four hours, before
I would use them.
The captain had no wife, nor above three servants,
none of which were suffered to attend at meals; and
his whole deportment was so obliging, added to very
good human understanding, that I really began to
tolerate his company. He gained so far upon me,
that I ventured to look out of the back window.
By degrees I was brought into another room, whence
I peeped into the street, but drew my head back in
a fright. In a week's time he seduced me down to
the door. I found my terror gradually lessened, but
my hatred and contempt seemed to increase.
I was
at last bold enough to walk the street in his com-
pany, but kept my nose well stopped with rue, or
sometimes with tobacco.
It
In ten days, Don Pedro, to whom I had given
some account of my domestic affairs, put it upon me,
as a matter of honour and conscience, “that I ought
to return to my native country, and live at home with
my wife and children." He told me there was an
English ship in the port just ready to sail, and he
would furnish me with all things necessary.
would be tedious to repeat his arguments and my
contradictions. He said, "it was altogether impos-
sible to find such a solitary island as I had desired to
live in; but I might command in my own house,
and pass my time in a manner as recluse as I
pleased.”
I complied at last, finding I could not do better.
I left Lisbon the 24th day of November, in an Eng-
lish merchantman, but who was the master I never
inquired. Don Pedro accompanied me to the ship,
and lent me twenty pounds. He took kind leave of
me, and embraced me at parting, which I bore as
well as I could. During this last voyage I had no
commerce with the master or any of his men; but
pretending I was sick, kept close in my cabin. On
the 5th of December, 1715, we cast anchor in the
Downs, about nine in the morning, and at three in
the afternoon I got safe to my house at Redriff.
My wife and family received me with great sur-
prise and joy, because they concluded me certainly
dead; but I must freely confess the sight of them
filled me only with hatred, disgust, and contempt;
and the more, by reflecting on the near alliance 1
had to them. For although, since my unfortunate
exile from the Houyhnhnm country, I had compelled
myself to tolerate the sight of Tahoos, and to cou-
verse with Don Pedro de Mendez, yet my memory
and imagination were perpetually filled with the
virtues and ideas of those exalted Houyhnhnms. And
when I began to consider, that by copulating with
one of the Yahoo species I had become a parent of
more, it struck me with the utmost shame, confusion,
and horror.
As soon as I entered the house, my wife took me
in her arms and kissed me; at which, having not
been used to the touch of that odious animal for se
}
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS.
many years, I fell into a swoon for almost an hour.
At the time I am writing, it is five years since my
last return to England: during the first year I could
not endure my wife or children in my presence: the
very smell of them was intolerable; much less could
I suffer them to eat in the same room. To this hour
they dare not presume to touch my bread, or drink
out of the same cup; neither was I ever able to let
one of them take me by the hand. The first money
I laid out was to buy two young stone horses, which
I keep in a good stable; and next to them the
groom is my greatest favourite; for I feel my spirits
revived by the smell he contracts in the stable. My
horses understand me tolerably well; I converse
with them at least four hours every day. They are
strangers to bridle or saddle; they live in great
◄mity with me, and friendship to each other.
CHAPTER XII.
The author's veracity. His design in publishing this work.
His ceusure of those travellers who swerve from the truth.
The author clears himself from any sinister ends in writing.
An objection answered. The method of planting colonies,
His native country commended. The right of the crown to
those countries described by the author, is justined. The
difficulty of conquering them. The author takes his last
leave of the reader; proposes his manner of living for the
future; gives good advice, and concludes.
Thus, gentle reader, I have given thee a faithful his-
tory of my travels for sixteen years and above seven
months: wherein I have not been so studious of or-
nament, as of truth. I could perhaps, like others,
have astonished thee with strange improbable tales;
but I rather chose to relate plain matter of fact, in
the simplest manner and style; because my princi-
pal design was to inform, and not to amuse thee.
It is easy for us who travel into remote countries,
which are seldom visited by Englishmen or other
Europeans, to form descriptions of wonderful ani-
mals both at sea and land. Whereas a traveller's
chief aim should be to make men wiser and better,
and to improve their minds by the bad, as well as
good example, of what they deliver concerning fo-
reign places.
I could heartily wish a law was enacted, that
every traveller, before he were permitted to publish
his voyages, should be obliged to make oath before
the lord-high-chancellor, that all he intended to
print was absolutely true to the best of his know-
ledge; for then the world would no longer be de-
ceived, as it usually is, while some writers, to make
their works pass the better upon the public, impose
the grossest falsities on the unwary reader. I have
I have
perused several books of travels with great delight
in my younger days; but having since gone over
most parts of the globe, and been able to contradict
many fabulous accounts from my own observation,
it has given me a great disgust against this part of
reading, and some indignation to see the credulity
of mankind so impudently abused. Therefore, since
my acquaintance were pleased to think my poor en-
deavours might not be unacceptable to my country,
1 imposed on myself, as a maxim, never to be
swerved from, that I would strictly adhere to truth;
neither indeed can I be ever under the least tempta-
tion to vary from it, while I retain in my mind the
lectures and example of my noble master and the
other illustrious Houyhnhnms, of whom I had so long
the honour to be an humble hearer.
Nec si miserum Fortuna Sinonem
Finxit, vanum etiam, mendacemque improba tinget.
I know very well how little reputation is to be got
by writings, which require neither genius nor learn-
ing, nor indeed any other talent, except a good me-
mory or an exact journal. I know likewise, that
writers of travels, like dictionary-makers, are sung
into oblivion by the weight and bulk of those who
come last, and therefore lie uppermost. And it is
highly probable that such travellers, who shall here-
after visit the countries described in this work of
mine, may, by detecting my errors (if there be any),
and adding many new discoverics of their own,
justle me out of vogue, and stand in my place, mak-
ing the world forget that ever I was an author. This
indeed would be too great a mortification, if I wrote
for fame but as my sole intention was the public
good, I cannot be altogether disappointed. For
who can read of the virtues I have mentioned in the
glorious Houyhnhnms, without being ashamed of
his own vices, when he considers himself as the rea-
soning, governing animal of his country? I shall
say nothing of those remote nations where Yahoos
preside; among which the least corrupted are the
Brobdingnagians; whose wise maxims in morality
and government, it would be our happiness to ob-
But I forbear descanting further, and rather
leave the judicious reader to his own remarks and
application.
serve.
Be-
I am not a little pleased that this work of mine
can possibly meet with no censurers: for what ob-
jections can be made against a writer, who relates
only plain facts, that happened in such distant coun-
tries, where we have not the least interest, with re-
spect either to trade or negotiations? I have care-
fully avoided every fault, with which common
writers of travels are often too justly charged.
sides, I meddle not the least with any party, but
write without passion, prejudice, or ill-will against
any man, or number of men whatsoever. I write
for the noblest end, to inform and instruct mankind;
over whom I may, without breach of modesty, pre-
tend to some superiority from the advantages I re-
ceived by conversing so long among the most accom-
plished Houyhnhams. I write without any view to
profit or praise. I never suffer a word to pass that
may look like reflection, or possibly give the least
offence, even to those who are most ready to take it.
So that I hope I may with justice pronounce my-
self an author perfectly blameless; against whom
the tribes of Answerers, Considerers, Observers, Re
flectors, Detectors, Remarkers, will never be able to
find matter for exercising their talents.
I confess it was whispered to me,
"that I was
bound in duty, as a subject of England, to have given
in a memorial to a secretary of state at my first
coming over, because, whatever lands are discovered
by a subject,
by a subject, belong to the crown." But I doubt
whether our conquests, in the countries I treat of,
would be as casy as those of Ferdinando Cortez over
the naked Americans. The Lilliputians, I think,
are hardly worth the charge of a fleet and army to
reduce them; and I question whether it might be
prudent or safe to attempt the Brobdingnagians. Or
whether an English army would be much at their
ease with the Flying Island over their heads.
Houyhnhums indeed appear not to be so well pre-
pared for war, a science to which they are perfect.
strangers, and especially against missive weapons.
However, supposing myself to be a minister of state,
I could never give my advice for invading them
Their prudence, unanimity, unacquaintedness with
fear, and their love of their country, would amply
supply all defects in the military art. Imagine
twenty thousand of them breaking into the midst
of an European army, confounding the ranks, over-
turning the carriages, battering the warriors' faces
into mummy by terrible yerks from their hinder hoofs;
for they would well deserve the character given to
Augustus, Recalcitrat undique tutus. But, instead of
The
A VOYAGE TO THE HOUYHNHNMS.
81
proposals for conquering that magnanimous nation,
I rather wish they were in a capacity, or disposition,
to send a sufficient number of their inhabitants for
civilizing Europe, by teaching us the first principles
of honour, justice, truth, temperance, public spirit,
fortitude, chastity, friendship, benevolence, and fide-
lity. The names of all which virtues are still re-
tained among us in most languages, and are to be
met with in modern as well as ancient authors;
which I am able to assert from my own small read-
ing.
But I had another reason, which made me less
forward to enlarge his majesty's dominions by my
discoveries. To say the truth, I had conceived a
few scruples with relation to the distributive justice
of princes upon those occasions. For instance, a
crew of pirates are driven by a storm they know not
whither; at length a boy discovers land from the
topmast; they go on shore to rob and plunder; they
see a harmless people, are entertained with kind-
ness; they give the country a new name; they take
formal possession of it for their king; they set up a
rotten plank, or a stone, for a memorial; they mur-
der two or three dozen of the natives, bring away
a couple more, by force, for a sample; return home
and get their pardon. Here commences a new do-
minion acquired with a title by divine right. Ships
are sent with the first opportunity; the natives
driven out or destroyed; their princes tortured to
discover their gold; a free licence given to all acts
of inhumanity and lust, the earth reeking with the
blood of its inhabitants: and this execrable crew of
butchers, employed in so pious an expedition, is a
modern colony, sent to convert and civilize an idola-
trous and barbarous people!
But this description, I confess, does by no means
affect the British nation, who may be an example to
the whole world for their wisdom, care, and justice
in planting colonies: their liberal endowments for
the advancement of religion and learning; their
choice of devout and able pastors to propagate
Christianity; their caution in stocking their pro-
vinces with people of sober lives and conversations,
from this the mother kingdom; their strict regard to
the distribution of justice, in supplying the civil ad-
ministration through all their colonies with officers
of the greatest abilities, utter strangers to corruption;
and, to crown all, by sending the most vigilant and
virtuous governors, who have no other views than
the happiness of the people over whom they preside,
and the honour of the king their master.
But as those countries, which I have described,
do not appear to have any desire of being conquered
and enslaved, murdered or driven out by colonies;
nor abound either in gold, silver, sugar, or tobacco;
I did humbly conceive, they were by no means pro-
per objects of our zeal, our valour, or our interest.
However, if those whom it more concerns, think fit
to be of another opinion, I am ready to depose,
when I shall be lawfully called, that no European
did ever visit those countries before me. I mean, if
the inhabitants ought to be believed, unless a dispute
may arise concerning the two Yahoos said to have
been seen many years ago upon a mountain in Houy-
hnhnm-land.
But, as to the formality of taking possession in
my sovereign's name it never came once into my
|
thoughts; and if it had, yet, as my affairs then stood,
I should perhaps, in point of prudence and self-pre-
servation, have put it off to a better opportunity.
Having thus answered the only objection that can
ever be raised against me as a traveller, I here take a
final leave of all my courteous readers, and return to
enjoy my own speculations in my little garden at
Redriff; to apply those excellent lessons of virtue
which I learned among the Houyhnhnms; to instruct
the Yahoos of my own family, as far as I shall find
them docible animals; to behold my figure often in
a glass, and thus, if possible, habituate myself by
time to tolerate the sight of a human creature; to
lament the brutality of Houyhnhnms in my own
country, but always treat their persons with respect,
for the sake of my noble master, his family, his
friends, and the whole Houyhnhnm race, whom these
of ours have the honour to resemble in all their linea-
ments, however their intellectuals came to dege.
nerate.
1 began last week to permit my wife to sit at din-
ner with me, at the farthest end of a long table; and
to answer (but with the utmost brevity) the few
questions I asked her. Yet, the smell of a Yahoo
continuing very offensive, I always keep my nose
well stopped with rue, lavender, or tobacco leaves.
And, although it be hard for a man late in life to
remove old habits, I am not altogether out of hopes,
in some time, to suffer a neighbour Yahoo in my
company, without the apprehensions I am yet under
of his teeth or his claws.
My reconcilement to the Yahoo kind in general
might not be so difficult, if they would be content with
those vices and follies only which nature has entitled
them to. I am not in the least provoked at the sight
of a lawyer, a pickpocket, a colonel, a fool, a lord,
a gamester, a politician, a whoremonger, a physi-
cian, an evidence, a suborner, an attorney, a traitor,
or the like; this is all according to the due course
of things but when I behold a lump of deformity
and diseases, both in body and mind, smitten with
pride, it immediately breaks all the measures of my
patience; neither shall I be ever able to compre-
hend how such an animal, and such a vice, could
tally together. The wise and virtuous Houyhnhnms,
who abound in all excellencies that can adorn a
rational creature, have no name for this vice in their
language; which has no terms to express anything
that is evil, except those whereby they describe the
detestable qualities of their Yahoos; among which
they were not able to distinguish this of pride, for
want of thoroughly understanding human nature,
as it shows itself in other countries, where that ani-
mal presides. But I, who had more experience,
could plainly observe some rudiments of it among
the wild Yahoos.
But the Houyhnhnms, who live under the govern-
ment of reason, are no more proud of the good qua-
lities they possess than I should be for not wanting a
leg or an arm; which no man in his wits would
boast of, although he must be miserable without
them. I dwell the longer upon this subject, from the
desire I have to make the society of an English
Yahoo by any means not insupportable; and there-
fore I here entreat those, who have any tincture of
this absurd vice, that they will not presume to come
in my sight.
VOL. I.
F
1
82
A TALE OF A TUB.
WRITTEN FOR THE UNIVERSAL IMPROVEMENT OF MANKIND.
Díu multumque desideratum.
TO WHICH IS ADDED, AN ACCOUNT OF A BATTLE BETWEEN THE ANCIENT AND MODERN BOOKS IN
ST. JAMES'S LIBRARY; WITH THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY, AND EXPLANATORY NOTES.
Basyma cacabassa eanaa, irraumista diaraba cañota bafobor camelanthi.-IREN., lib. i. c. 18.
Juvatque novos decerpere flores,
Insignemque meo capiti petere inde coronam,
Unde prius nulli velarunt tempora Musa.-LUCRET.
Ridentem dicere verum quid vetut?-HORAce.
ANALYTICAL TABLE.-THE AUTHOR'S
APOLOGY.
THE tale approved of by a great majority among
the men of taste. Some treatises written expressly
against it; but not one syllable in its defence. The
greatest part of it finished in 1696, eight years be-
fore it was published. The author's intention when
he began it. No irreligious or immoral opinion can
fairly be deduced from the book. The clergy have
no reason to dislike it. The author's intention not
having met with a candid interpretation, he declined
engaging in a task he had proposed to himself, of
cxamining some publications, that were intended
against all religion. Unfair to fix a name upon an
author who had so industriously concealed himself
The Letter on Enthusiasm, ascribed by several to
the same author. If the abuses in law or physic
had been the subjeet of this treatise, the learned
professors in either faculty would have been more
liberal than the clergy. The passages which appear
most liable to objection are parodies. The author
entirely innocent of any intention of glancing at
those tenets of religion, which he has by some pre-
judiced or ignorant readers been supposed to mean.
This particularly the case in the passage about the
three wooden machines. An irony runs through
the whole book. Not necessary to take notice of
treatises written against it. The usual fate of com-
mon answerers to books of merit is to sink into
waste paper and oblivion. The case very different
when a great genius exposes a foolish piece. Re-
flections occasioned by Dr. King's Remarks on the
Tale of a Tub; others, by Mr. Wotton. The manner
in which the Tale was first published accounted for.
The Fragment not printed in the way the author
intended; being the groundwork of a much larger
discourse.b The oaths of Peter why introduced.
The severest strokes of satire in the treatise are
levelled against the custom of employing wit in pro-
faneness or immodesty. Wit the noblest and most
Wit the noblest and most
useful gift of human nature; and humour the most
agreeable. Those who have no share of either,
|
think the blow weak, because they are themselves
insensible.
P.S. The author of the Key wrong in all his con-
jectures. The whole work entirely by one hand;
the author defying any one to claim three lines in
the book.
The Bookseller's Dedication to Lord Somers.-
How he finds out that lord to be the patron in-
tended by his author. Dedicators ridiculous, who
praise their patrons for qualities that do not belong
to them.
The Bookseller to the Reader.-Tells how long he
has had these papers, when they were written, and
why he publishes them now.
The Dedication to Posterity.—The author, appre-
hending that time will soon destroy almost all the
writings of this age, complains of his malice against
modern authors and their productions, in hurrying
them so quickly off the scene; and therefore ad-
dresses posterity in favour of his contemporaries :
assures him they abound in wit and learning, and
books; and, for instance, mentions Dryden, Tate,
D'Urfey, Bentley, and Wotton.
Preface. The occasion and design of this work.
Project for employing the beaux of the nation.
Of modern prefaces. Modern wit how delicate.
Method for penetrating into an author's thoughts.
Our
Complaints of every writer against the multitude
of writers, like the fat follows in a crowd.
author insists on the common privilege of writers;
to be favourably explained when not understood;
and to praise himself in the modern way. This
treatise without satire; and why. Fame sooner
gotten by satire than panegyric; the subject of the
latter being narrow, and that of the former infinite.
Difference between Athens and England, as to
general and particular satire. The author designs a
panegyric on the world, and a modest defence of the
rabble.
SECTION I. THE INTRODUCTION.-A physico-my-
thological dissertation on the different sorts of ora-
torial machines. Of the bar and the bench. The
author fond of the number three; promises a pane-
gyric on it. Of pulpits; which are the best. Of
ladders; on which the British orators surpass ail
a This letter, supposed to have been written by Swift, and
ascribed to his friend Colonel Hunter, was the production of
others.
Char cteristics," in which collection it
the author of the "Char cteristics,
holds the foremost rank. It bears date in September, 1707.
In the apology, the author dwells on the circumstance of
the book havin, een published while his original papers were
out of his own possession. Thee editions were printed in the
year 1704; a fourth, corrected, in 1705,
Of the stage itinerant; the seminary of the
two former. A physical reason why those machines
are elevated. Of the curious contrivance of modern
theatres. These three machines emblematically re-
present the various sorts of authors.
ANALYTICAL TABLE.
83
An apologetical dissertation for the Grub-street
writers, against their revolted rivals of Gresham and
Will's. Superficial readers cannot easily find out
wisdom, which is compared to several pretty things.
Commentaries promised on several writings of
Grub-street authors; as Reynard the Fox, Tom
Thumb, Dr. Faustus, Whittington and his Cat, the
Hind and Panther, Tommy Pots, and the Wise Men
of Gotham. The author's pen and person worn out
in serving the state. Multiplicity of titles and de-
dications.
SECTION II. TALE OF A TUB.-Of a Father and
his Three Sons. His will, and his legacies to them.
Of the young men's carriage at the beginning; and
of the genteel qualifications they acquired in town.
Description of a new sect, who adored their creator
the tailor. Of their idol and their system. The
three brothers follow the mode against their father's
will; and get shoulder-knots by help of distinctions;
gold-lace, by help of tradition; flame-coloured satin
lining, by means of a supposed codicil; silver fringe,
by virtue of critical interpretation; and embroidery
of Indian figures, by laying aside the plain literal
meaning. The will at last locked up. Peter got
into a lord's house, and after his death turned out
his children, and took in his own brothers in their
stead.
SECTION III. A DIGRESSION CONCERNING CRITICS.
-Three sorts of critics; the two first sorts now
extinct. The true sort of critics' genealogy; office;
definition. Antiquity of their race proved from
Pausanias, who represents them by asses browsing
on vines; and Herodotus, by asses with horns;
and by an ass that frightened a Scythian army;
and Diodorus, by a poisonous weed; and Ctesias,
by serpents that poison with their vomit; and
Terence, by the name of Malevoli. The true critic
compared to a tailor, and to a true beggar. Three
characteristics of a true modern critic.
SECTION IV. TALE OF A TUB, continued.-Peter
assumes grandeur and titles; and, to support them,
turus projector. The author's hopes of being trans-
lated into foreign languages. Peter's first invention,
of Terra Australis Incognita. The second of a
remedy for Worms. The third, a Whispering-Office.
Fourth, an Insurance-Office. Fifth, an Universal
Fifth, an Universal
Pickle. Sixth, a set of Bulls with leaden feet.
Lastly, his pardons to malefactors. Peter's brains
turned; he plays several tricks, and turns out his
brother's wives. Gives his brothers bread for
mutton and for wine. Tells huge lies; of a cow's
milk that would fill 3000 churches; of a Sign-post
as large as a man-of-war; of a house that travelled
2000 leagues. The brothers steal a copy of the
will, break open the cellar door, and are both kicked
out of doors by Peter.
SECTION V. A DIGRESSION IN THE MODERN KIND.
-Our author expatiates on his great pains to serve
the public by instructing, and more by diverting.
The Moderns having so far excelled the Ancients,
the author gives them a receipt for a complete
system of all arts and sciences, in a small pocket
volume. Several defects discovered in Homer; and
his ignorance in modern invention, &c. Our au-
thor's writings fit to supply all defects. He justifies
his praising his own writings by modern examples.
SECTION VI. TALE OF A TUB, continued.-The
two brothers ejected, agree in a resolution to re-
form, according to the will. They take different
names, and are found to be of different complexions.
How Martin began rudely, but proceeded more
cautiously in reforming his coat. Jack, of a dif-
ferent temper, and full of zeal, begins tearing all to
pieces. He leavours to kindle up Martin to the
n
|
same pitch, but, not succeeding, they separate.
Jack runs mad, gets many names, and founds the
sect of Eolists.
SECTION VII. A DIGRESSION IN PRAISE OF DI-
GRESSIONS.-Digressious suited to modern palates.
A proof of depraved appetites; but necessary for
modern writers. Two ways now in use to be book-
learned: 1. By learning titles; 2. By reading
Indexes. Advantages of this last; and of Abstracts.
The number of writers increasing above the quan-
tity of matter, this method becomes necessary and
useful. The Reader empowered to transplant this
Digression.
SECTION VIII. TALE OF A TUB, continued.
System of the Eolists; they hold wind or spirit to
be the origin of all things, and to bear a great part
in their composition. Of the fourth and fifth animas
attributed by them to man. Of their belching, or
preaching. Their inspiration from Exoría. They
use barrels for pulpits. Female officers used for in-
spiration; and why. The notion opposite to that
of a deity, fittest to form a devil. Two devils dreaded
Their relation with a Northern
by the Eolists.
nation. The Author's respect for this sect.
SECTION IX. DISSERTATION ON MADNESS.
Great conquerors of empires, and founders of sects
in philosophy and religion, have generally been per-
sons whose reason was disturbed. A small
A small vapour,
mounting to the brain, may occasion great revo-
lutions. Examples; of Henry IV., who made great
preparations for war, because of his mistress's ab-
sence; and of Louis XIV., whose great actions.
concluded in a fistula. Extravagant notions of se-
veral great philosophers, how nice to distinguish
Mr. Wotton's fatal mistake in mis-
from madness.
Madness the source
applying his peculiar talents.
of conquests and systems. Advantages of fiction
and delusion over truth and reality. The outside of
things better than the inside. Madness, how useful.
A proposal for visiting Bedlam, and employing the
divers members in a way useful to the public.
SECTION X. THE AUTHOR'S COMPLIMENTS TO THE
READERS.-Great civilities practised between the
authors and readers; and our author's thanks to the
whole nation. How well satis tied authors and book-
sellers are. To what occasions we owe most of the
present writings. Of a paltry scribbler our author
is afraid of, and therefore desires Dr. Bentley's pro-
tection. He gives here his whole store at one meal.
Usefulness of this treatise to different sorts of read-
ers; the superficial, the ignorant, and the learned.
Proposal for making some ample commentaries on
this work; and of the usefulness of commentaries
for dark writers. Useful hints for the commen-
tators of this treatise.
SECTION XI. THE TALE OF A TUB, continued.-
The author, not in haste to be at home, shows the
difference between a traveller weary, or in haste,
and another in good plight, that takes his pleasure
and views every pleasant scene in his way. The
sequel of Jack's adventures; his superstitious vene-
ration for the Holy Scripture, and the uses he made
of it. His flaming zeal, and blind submission to
the Decrees. His harangue for Predestination.
He covers roguish tricks with a show of devotion.
Affects singularity in manners and speech. His
aversion to music and painting. His discourses
provoke sleep. His groaning and affecting to suffer
for the good cause. The great antipathy of Peter and
Jack made them both run into extremes, where
they often met.
The degenerate ears of this age cannot afford a
sufficient handle to hold men by. The senses and
passious afford many handles, Curiosity is that hy
6 2
84
A TALE OF A TUB.
which our Author has held his readers so long. The
rest of this story lost, &c.
THE CONCLUSION. Of the proper seasons for
publishing books. Of profound writers. Of the
ghost of wit. Sleep and the Muses nearly related.
Apology for the author's fits of dulness.
and Reason the lacqueys of Invention.
thor's great collection of flowers of little use till
now.
Method
Our au-
A DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE MECHANICAL OPERA-
TION OF THE SPIRIT.
The Author, at a loss what title to give this piece,
finds after much pains, that of A Letter to a Friend
to be the most in vogue, of modern excuses for
haste and negligence, &c.
SECTION I. Mahomet's fancy of being carried to
heaven by an ass, followed by many Christians.
A great affinity between this creature and man.
That talent of bringing his rider to heaven, the sub-
ject of this discourse; but for ass and rider, the au-
thor uses the synonymous terms of enlightened
teacher and fanatic hearer. A tincture of enthu-
siasm runs through all men and all sciences; but
prevails most in religion. Enthusiasm defined and
distinguished. That which is mechanical and arti-
ficial is treated of by our author. Though art
oftentimes changes into nature: examples in the
Scythian Longheads and English Roundheads.-
Sense and reason must be laid aside to let this
spirit operate. The objections about the manner
of the Spirit from above descending upon the Apos-
tles, make not against this spirit that arises within.
The methods by which the assembly helps to work
up this spirit, jointly with the preacher.
SECTION II. How some worship a good Being,
others an evil. Most people confound the bounds
of good and evil. Vain mortals think the Divinity
interested in their meanest actions. The scheme of
texts.
spiritual mechanism left out. Of the usefulness of
quilted night-caps to keep in the heat, to give motion
and vigour to the little animals that compose the
brain. Sound of far greater use than sense in the
operations of the Spirit, as in music. Inward light
consists of theological monosyllables and mysterious
Of the great force of one vowel in canting :
and of blowing the nose, hawking, spitting, and
belching. The author to publish an Essay on the
Art of Canting. Of speaking through the nose, or
snuffling its origin from a disease occasioned by
a conflict between the Flesh and the Spirit. In-
spired vessels, like lanterns, have a sorry sooty out-
side. Fanaticism deduced from the ancients, in
their orgies, bacchanals, &c. Of their great lasci-
viousness on those occasions.
:
The Fanatics of the
first centuries and those of later times, generally
agree in the same principle of improving spiritual
into carnal ejaculations, &c.
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
The Preface informs us this piece was written in
1697, on account of a famous dispute about Ancient
and Modern Learning, between Sir William Temple
and the Earl of Orrery on the one side, and Mr.
Wotton and Bentley on the other.
War and invasions generally proceed from the
attacks of Want and Poverty upon Plenty and
Riches. The Moderns quarrel with the Ancients
about the possession of the highest top of Parnassus,
and desire them to surrender it or to let it be level-
led. The answer of the Ancients not accepted. A
war ensues, in which rivulets of ink are spilt; and
both parties hang out their trophies-books of con-
troversy. These books haunted with disorderly spi-
rits, though often bound to the peace in libraries.
The author's advice in this case neglected, which
occasions a terrible fight in St James's Library. Dr.
Bentley, the library-keeper, a great enemy to the
Ancients. The Moderns, finding themselves 50,000
strong, give the Ancients ill language. Temple, a
favourite of the Ancients. An incident of a quarrel
between a bee and a spider, with their arguments
on both sides. Esop applies them to the present
dispute. The order of battle of the Moderns, and
names of their leaders. The leaders of the Ancients.
Jupiter calls a council of the Gods, and consults the
books of Fate; and then sends his orders below.
с
a
Momus brings the news to Criticism; whose habita-
tion and company is described. She arrives, and
sheds her influence on her son Wotton. The battle
described. Paracelsus engages Galen; Aristotle
aims at Bacon, and kills Descartes; Homer over-
throws Gondibert, kills Denham and Wesley, Per-
rault and Fontenelle. Encounter of Virgil and
Dryden; of Lucan and Blackmore; of Creech and
Horace; of Pindar and Cowley. The episode of
Bentley and Wotton. Bentley's armour. His
Scaliger's answer.
speech to the modern generals.
Bentley and Wotton march together. Bentley at-
tacks Phalaris and Esop. Wotton attacks Temple
in vain. Boyle pursues Wotton; and meeting Ben-
tley in his way, he pursues and kills them both.
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.
If good and ill nature equally operated upon man-
kind, I might have saved myself the trouble of this
apology; for it is manifest by the reception the fol-
lowing discourse has met with, that those who ap-
prove it are a great majority among the men of
taste; yet there have been two or three treatises
written expressly against it, beside many others that
have flirted at it occasionally, without one syllable
having been ever published in its defence, or even
quotation to its advantage that I can remember, ex-
cept by the polite author of a late discourse between
a Deist and a Socinian.
Therefore, since the book seems calculated to
live, at least as long as our language and our taste
admit no great alterations, I am content to convey
some apology along with it.
The greatest part of that book was finished about
thirteen years since, 1696, which is eight years be-
fore it was published. The author was then young,
his invention at the height, and his reading fresh in
his head. By the assistance of some thinking, and
much conversation, he had endeavoured to strip
himself of as many real prejudices as he could; I
say real ones, because under the notion of preju-
dices, he knew to what dangerous heights some men
have proceeded. Thus prepared, he thought the
numerous and gross corruptions in religion and
learning might furnish matter for a satire that would
be useful and diverting. He resolved to proceed in
a manner that should be altogether new, the world
having been already too long nauseated with endless
repetitions upon every subject. The abuses in reli-
gion, he proposed to set forth in the allegory of the
coats and the three brothers, which was to make up
the body of the discourse: those in learning he
chose to introduce by way of digressions. He was
then a young gentleman much in the world, and
wrote to the taste of those who were like himself;
a Samuel Wesley, rector of Ormesby and Epworth, in In-
colnshire.
↳ Charles Perrault, author of a poem entitled, "Le Siècle
de Louis le Grand," in which the modern authors are exalted
above the ancient.
• The anthor of "The Plurality of Worlds;" who died in
1756, in his 190th year.
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.
£5
therefore, in order to allure them, he gave a liberty
to his pen which might not suit with maturer years
or graver characters, and which he could have easily
vorrected with a very few blots, had he been master
of his papers for a year or two before their publica-
tion.
Not that he would have governed his judgment
by the ill-placed cavils of the sour, the envious, the
stupid and the tasteless, which he mentions with
disdain. He acknowledges there are several youth-
ful sallies, which from the grave and the wise may
deserve a rebuke. But he desires to be answerable
no further than he is guilty, and that his faults may
not be multiplied by the ignorant, the unnatural,
and uncharitable applications of those who have
neither candour to suppose good meanings, nor pa-
late to distinguish true ones. After which, he will
forfeit his life if any one opinion can be fairly de-
duced from that book which is contrary to religion
or morality.
Why should any clergyman of our church be an-
gry to see the follies of fanaticism and superstition
exposed, though in the most ridiculous manner;
since that is perhaps the most probable way to cure
them, or at least to hinder them from further spread-
ing? Besides, though it was not intended for their
perusal, it rallies nothing but what they preach
against. It contains nothing to provoke them, by
them, by
the least scurrility upon their persons or their func-
tions. It celebrates the church of England, as the
most perfect of all others in discipline and doctrine;
it advances no opinion they reject, nor condemns
any they receive. If the clergy's resentment
If the clergy's resentment lay
upon their hands, in my humble opinion they might
have found. more proper objects to employ them on;
nondum tibi defuit hostis: I mean those heavy, illi-
terate scribblers, prostitute in their reputations,
vicious in their lives, and ruined in their fortunes,
who, to the shame of good sense as well as piety,
are greedily read, merely upon the strength of bold,
false, impious assertions, mixed with unmannerly
reflections upon the priesthood, and openly intended
against all religion: in short, full of such principles
as are kindly received, because they are levelled to
remove those terrors that religion tells men will be
the consequence of immoral lives. Nothing like
which is to be met with in this discourse, though
some of them are pleased so freely to censure it.
And I wish there were no other instance of what I
have too frequently observed, that many of that re-
verend body are not always very nice in distinguish-
ing between their enemies and their friends.
Had the author's intentions met with a more can-
did interpretation from some, whom out of respect
he forbears to name, he might have been encouraged
to an examination of books written by some of those
authors above described, whose errors, ignorance,
dulness and villainy, he thinks he could have de-
tected and exposed in such a manner, that the per-
sous who are most conceived to be affected by them.
would soon lay them aside and be ashamed; but he
has now given over those thoughts, since the weigh-
tiest men in the weightiest stations are pleased to
think it a more dangerous point to laugh at those
corruptions in religion, which they themselves must
disapprove, than to endeavour pulling up those very
foundations wherein all christians have agreed.
He thinks it no fair proceeding, that any person
should offer dcterminately to fix a name upon the
author of this discourse, who hath all along conceal-
ed himself from most of his nearest friends: yet
several have gone a step farther, and pronounced
another book a to have been the work of the same
• The celebrated Letter ou Eutisiasm.
hand with this, which the author directly affirms to
be a thorough mistake; he having as yet never so
much as read that discourse: a plain instance how
little truth there often is in general surmises, or in
conjectures drawn from a similitude of style or way
of thinking.
Had the author written a book to expose the
abuses in law or in physic, he believes the learned
professors in either faculty would have been so far
from resenting it as to have given him thanks for his
pains; especially if he had made an honourable re-
servation for the true practice of either science: but
religion, they tell us, ought not to be ridiculed,
and they tell us truth: yet surely the corrup-
tions in it may; for we are taught by the tritest
maxim in the world, that Religion being the best on
things, its corruptions are likely to be the worst.
There is one thing which the judicious reader
cannot but have observed, that some of those pas-
sages in this discourse which appear most liable to
objection, are what they call parodies, where the
author personates the style and manner of other
writers, whom he has a mind to expose. I shall
produce one instance of a passage in which Dryden,
L'Estrange, and some others I shall not name, are
levelled at, who, having spent their lives in faction
and apostacies, and all manner of vice, pretended to
be sufferers for loyalty and religion. So Dryden
tells us, in one of his prefaces, of his merits and suf-
ferings, and thanks God that he possesses his soul
in patience; in other places he talks at the same rate;
and L'Estrange often uses the like style; and I be-
lieve the reader may find more persons to give that
passage an application: but this is enough to direct
those who may have overlooked the author's intention.
There are three or four other
passages which pre-
judiced or ignorant readers have drawn by great
force to hint at ill meanings; as if they glanced at
some tenets in religion. In answer to all which,
the author solemnly protests he is entirely inno-
cent; and never had it once in his thoughts, that
anything he said, would in the least be capable of
such interpretations, which he will engage to de-
duce full as fairly from the most innocent book in the
world. And it will be obvious to every reader, that
this was not any part of his scheme or design, the
abuses he notes being such as all church-of-England
men agree in; nor was it proper for his subject to
meddle with other points, than such as have been
perpetually controverted since the Reformation.
To instance only in that passage about the three
wooden machines mentioned in the introduction:
in the original manuscript there was a description
of a fourth, which those who had the papers in their
power, blotted out, as having something in it of
satire, that I suppose they thought was too parti-
cular; and therefore they were forced to change it
to the number three, whence some have endea-
voured to squeeze out a dangerous meaning, that
was never thought on. And, indeed, the conceit
was half spoiled by changing the numbers; that of
four being much more cabalistic, and, therefore,
better exposing the pretended virtue of numbers, a
superstition there intended to be ridiculed.
Another thing to be observed is, that there gene-
rally runs an irony through the thread of the whole
book, which the man of taste will observe and dis-
tinguish; and which will render some objections
that have been made very weak and insignificant.
This Apology being chiefly intended for the satis-
faction of future readers, it may be thought unneces-
sary to take any notice of such treatises as have
been written against the ensuing discourse, which
are already sunk into waste paper and oblivion.
86
A TALE OF A TUB.
after the usual fate of common answerers to books
which are allowed to have any merit: they are in-
deed like annuals, that grow about a young tree,
and seem to vie with it for a summer, but fall and
die with the leaves in autumn, and are never heard
of more. When Dr. Eachard wrote his book about
the contempt of the clergy, numbers of these an-
swerers immediately started up, whose memory, if
he had not kept alive by his replics, it would now be
utterly unknown that he was ever answered at all.
There is indeed an exception, when any great genius
thinks it worth his while to expose a foolish piece;
so we still read Marvell's answer to Parker" with
pleasure, though the book it answers be sunk long
ago: so the Earl of Orrery's remarks will be read
with delight, when the dissertation he exposes will
neither be sought nor found: but these are no
enterprizes for common hands, nor to be hoped for
above once or twice in an age.
Men would be more
cautious of losing their time in such an undertaking,
if they did but consider that to answer a book
effectually requires more pains and skill, more wit,
learning and judgment, than were employed in the
writing of it. And the author assures those gentle-
Inen who have given themselves that trouble with
him, that his discourse is the product of the study,
the observation, and the invention of several years;
that he often blotted out much more than he left,
and if his papers had not been a long time out of his
possession, they must have still undergone more
severe corrections: and do they think such a build-
ing is to be battered with dirt-pellets, however en-
venomed the mouths may be that discharge them?
He has seen the productions but of two an-
swerers, one of which at first appeared as from an
unknown hand, but since avowed by a person,
who, upon some occasions, has discovered no ill
vein of humour. It is a pity any occasion should
put him under a necessity of being so hasty in his
productions, which, otherwise, might be entertain-
ing. But there were other reasons obvious enough
for his miscarriage in this; he wrote against the
conviction of his talent, and entered upon one of
the wrongest attempts in nature to turn into ridi-
cufe, by a week's labour, a work which had cost so
much time and met with so much success in ridi-
culing others the manner how he handled his sub-
ject I have now forgot, having just looked it over,
when it first came out, as others did, merely for the
sake of the title.
d
0
The other answer is from a person of a graver
character, and is made up of half invective, and half
annotation; in the latter of which he has generally
succeeded well enough. And the project at that
time was not amiss to draw in readers to his
pam-
phlet, several having appeared desirous that there
might be some explication of the more difficult pas-
sages. Neither can he be altogether blamed for
offering at the invective part, because it is agreed on
all hands, that the author had given him sufficient
provocation. The great objection is against his
manner of treating it, very unsuitable to one of his
function. It was determined by a fair majority,
that this answerer had, in a way not to be pardoned,
drawn his pen against a certain great man then
alive, and universally reverenced for every good
quality that could possibly enter into the compo-
sition of the most accomplished person; it was ob-
Afterwards Bishop of Oxford.
served how he was pleased, and affected to have that
noble writer called his adversary; and it was a
point of satire well directed; for I have been told
Sir William Temple was sufficiently mortified at the
term. All the men of wit and politeness were im-
mediately up in arms through indignation, which
prevailed over their contempt, by the consequences
they apprehended from such an example; and it
grew Porsenna's case idem trecenti juravimus. In
short, things were ripe for a general insurrection,
till my Lord Orrery had a little laid the spirit, and
settled the ferment. But his lordship being princi-
pally engaged with another antagonist, it was
thought necessary, in order to quiet the minds of
men, that this opposer should receive a reprimand,
which partly occasioned that discourse of the Eattle
of the Books; and the author was further at the
pains to insert one or two remarks on him in the
body of the book.
d
This answerer has been pleased to find fault with
about a dozen passages, which the author will not
be at the trouble of defending, further than by as-
suring the reader, that for the greater part, the re-
flector is entirely mistaken, and forces interpreta-
tions which never once entered into the writer's
head, nor will (he is sure) into that of any reader o
taste and candour; he allows two or three at mos*.
there produced, to have been delivered unwarily:
for which he desires to plead the excuse offered al-
ready, of his youth, and fiankness of speech, and his
papers being out of his power at the time they were
published.
But this answerer insists, and says, what he chiefly
dislikes, is the design: what that was, I have al
ready told, and I believe there is not a person ir
England who can understand that book, that eve:
imagined it to be anything else, but to expose the
abuses and corruptions in learning and religion.
ole.
But it would be good to know what design this
reflector was serving, when he concludes his pan-
phlet with a caution to the reader to beware of think-
ing the author's wit was entirely his own: surely
this must have had some allay of personal animosity
at least, mixed with the design of serving the public,
by so useful a discovery; and it indeed touches the
author in a tender point; who insists upon it, that
through the whole book he has not borrowed one
single hint from any writer in the world; and he
thought of all criticisms, that would never have been
He conceived, it was never disputed to be an
original, whatever faults it might have. However,
this answerer produces three instances to prove this
author's wit is not his own in many places. The
first is, that the names of Peter, Martin, and Jack,
are borrowed from a letter of the late Duke of Buck-
ingham [Villiers]. Whatever wit is contained in
those three names, the author is content to give it
up, and desires his readers will subtract as much as
they placed upon that account; at the same time
protesting solemnly, that he never once heard of that
letter, except in this passage of the answerer: so
that the names were not borrowed, as he affirms,
though they should happen to be the same; which,
however, is odd enough, and what he hardly be-
lieves that of Jack being not quite so obvious as
the other two. The second instance to show the
author's wit is not his own is Peter's banter (as he
calls it in his Alsatia phrase) upon transubstan-
tiation, which is taken from the same duke's con-
ference with an Irish priest, where a cork is turned
into a horse. This the author confesses to have
Boyle's Remarks upon Bentley's Dissertation on the Epis- into a horse.
tles of Phalaris.
Dr. William King, the civilan.
d Wotton's Defence of his Reflections upon Aucient and
Modein Learning.
A
b
Bentley, concerning Phalaris and Æsop.
↳ Fauter, a word which Swift detested.
name for Whitefriais
Alsatia, a nick
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.
37
1
seen about ten years after his book was written, and,
a year or two after it was published. Nay the an-
swerer overthrows this himself; for he allows the
Tale was written in 1697; and I think that pam- 1
plet was not printed in many years after.. It was
necessary that corruption should have some allegory
as well as the rest; and the author invented the
properest he could, without inquiring what other
people had written; and the commonest reader will
find, there is not the least resemblance between the
two stories. The third instance is in these words;
"I have been assured, that the battle in St. James's
Library is, mutatis mutandis, taken out of a French
book, entitled, Combat des Livres, if I mis-remem-
ber not." In which passage there are two clauses
observable; "I have been assured;" and, "if I
mis-remember not.' I desire first to know whe-
ther, if that conjecture proves an utter falsehood,
those two clauses will be a sufficient excuse for this
worthy critic? The matter is a trifle; but, would
he venture to pronounce at this rate upon one of
I know nothing more con-
greater moment?
temptible in a writer than the character of a pla-
giary, which he here fixes at a venture; and this
not for a passage, but a whole discourse, taken out
from another book, only mutatis mutandıs. The
author is as much in the dark about this as the
answerer; and will imitate him by an affirmation at
random;
that if there be a word of truth in this re-
flection, he is a paltry, imitating pedant; and the
answerer is a person of wit, manners, and truth.
He takes his boldness, from never having seen any
such treatise in his life, nor heard of it before; and
he is sure it is impossible for two writers, of dif-
ferent times and countries, to agree in their thoughts
after such a manner, that two continued discourses
shall be the same, only mutatis mutandis. Neither
will he insist upon the mistake in the title; but let
the answerer and his friend produce any book they
please, he defies them to show one single particular
where the judicious reader will affirm he has been
obliged for the smallest hint; giving only allowance
for the accidental encountering of a single thought,
which he knows may sometimes happen; though he
has never yet found it in that discourse, nor has
heard it objected by anybody else.
So that if ever any design was unfortunately exe-
cuted it must be that of this answerer, who, when he
would have it observed that the author's wit is none
of his own, is able to produce but three instances-
two of them mere trifles, and all three manifestly
false. If this be the way these gentlemen deal with
the world in those criticisms, where we have not
leisure to defeat them, their readers had need be
cautious bow they rely upon their credit; and
whether this proceeding can be reconciled to hu-
manity or truth, let those who think it worth their
while determine.
It is agreed this answerer would have succeeded
much better if he had stuck wholly to his business
as a commentator upon the TALE OF A TUB, wherein
it cannot be denied that he hath been of some ser-
vice to the public, and hath given very fair conjec-
tures towards clearing up some difficult passages;
but it is the frequent error of those men (otherwise
very commendable for their labours), to make ex-
cursions beyond their talent and their office by pre-
tending to point out the beauties and the faults,
faults,
which is no part of their trade-which they always
fail in-which the world never expected from them,
nor gave them any thanks for endeavouring at.
The part of Minellius, or Farnaby, would have
Low commentators, who wrote notes upon classic authors
for the use of schoolbovs
A
a
|
fallen in with his genius, and might have been
serviceable to many readers, who cannot enter into
the abstruser parts of that discourse; but optar
ephippia bos piger; the dull, unwieldly, ill-shaped
ox, would needs put on the furniture of a horse,
not considering he was born to labour, to plough
the ground for the sake of superior beings, and that
he has neither the shape, mettle, nor speed, of the
noble animal he would affect to personate.
It is another pattern of this answerer's fair dealing
to give us hints that the author is dead, and yet to
lay the suspicion upon somebody, I know not who,
in the country; to which can only be returned,
that he is absolutely mistaken in all his conjectures;
and surely conjectures are, at best, too light a pre-
tence to allow a man to assign a name in public.
He condemns a book, and consequently the author,
of whom he is utterly ignorant; yet at the same
time he fixes in print what he thinks a disadvan-
tageous character upon those who never deserved it.
A man who receives a buffet in the dark, may be
allowed to be vexed; but it is an odd kind of re-
venge, to go to cuffs in broad day with the first he
meets and lay the last night's injury at his door.
And thus much for the discreet, candid, pious, and
ingenious answerer.
is
How the author came to be without his papers
a story not proper to be told, and of very little use,
being a private fact; of which the reader would be-
lieve as little, or as much, as he thought good. He
had, however, a blotted copy by him, which he in-
tended to have written over with many alterations;
and this the publishers were well aware of, having
put it into the bookseller's preface that they appre-
hended a surreptitious copy, which was to be altered,
&c. This, though not regarded by readers, was a
real truth, only the surreptitious copy was rather
that which was printed; and they made all the
haste they could, which, indeed, was needless, the
author not being at all prepared; but he has been
told the bookseller was in much pain, having given
a good sum of money for the copy.
In the author's original copy there were not so
many chasms as appear in the book, and why some
of them were left he knows not. Had the pubica-
tion been trusted to him, he would have made
several corrections of passages, against which no-
thing has been ever objected: he would likewise
have altered a few of those that seem with any rea-
son to be excepted against; but, to deal freely, the
greatest number he should have left untouched, as
never suspecting it possible any wrong interpreta-
tions could be made of them.
The author observes, at the end of the book, there
is a discourse called a Fragment, which he more
wondered to see in print than all the rest, having
been a most imperfect sketch, with the addition of a
few loose hints, which he once lent a gentleman who
had designed a discourse on somewhat the same
subject; he never thought of it afterwards, and it
was a sufficient surprise to see it pieced up together
wholly out of the method and scheme he had in-
tended, for it was the ground-work of a much larger
discourse, and he was sorry to observe the materials
so foolishly employed.
There is one further objection made by those who
have answered this book, as well as by some others,
that Peter is frequently made to repeat oaths and
curses. Every reader observes, it was necessary to
know that Peter did swear and curse. The oaths
are not printed out, but only supposed; and the idea
of an oath is not immoral, like the idea of a profane
or immodest speech. A man may laugh at the Po-
pish folly of cursing people to hell, and imagine
88
A TALE OF A TUь.
them swearing, without any crime; but lewd words,
or dangerous opinions, though printed by halves,
fill the reader's mind with ill ideas; and of these the
author cannot be accused. For the judicious reader
will find that the severest strokes of satire in his
book are levelled against the modern custom of em-
ploying wit upon those topics; of which there is a
remarkable instance in the 112th and 13th pages,
as well as in several others, though perhaps once or
twice expressed in too free a manner, excusable only
for the reasons already alleged. Some overtures
have been made by a third hand to the bookseller
for the author's altering those pages which he thought
might require it; but it seems the bookseller will
not hear of any such thing, being apprehensive it
might spoil the sale of the book.
The author cannot conclude this apology without
making this one reflection: that, as wit is the no-
blest and most useful gift of human nature, so
humour is the most agreeable; and where these two
enter far into the composition of any work, they
will render it always acceptable to the world. Now,
the great part of those who have no share or taste of
either, but by their pride, pedantry, and ill manners,
lay themselves bare to the lashes of both, think the
blow is weak, because they are insensible; and,
where wit has any mixture of raillery, it is but calling
it banter, and the work is done. This polite word of
theirs was first borrowed from the bullies in White-
friars, then fell among the footmen, and at last re-
tired to the pedants; by whom it is applied as pro-
perly to the production of wit as if I should apply it
to Sir Isaac Newton's mathematics. But, if this
bantering, as they call it, be so despisable a thing,
whence comes it to pass they have such a perpetual
itch toward it themselves? To instance only in the
answerer already mentioned: it is grievous to see
him, in some of his writings, at every turn going out
of his way to be waggish to tell us of a cow that
pricked up her tail; and in his answer to this dis-
course, he says, it is all a farce and a ladle; with
other passages equally shining. One may say of
One may say of
these impedimenta literarum, that wit owes them a
shame; and they cannot take wiser counsel than to
keep out of harm's way, or, at least, not to come till
they are sure they are called.
To conclude with those allowances above re-
quired this book should be read; after which, the
author conceives few things will remain which may
not be excused in a young writer. He wrote only
to the men of wit and taste; and he thinks he is
not mistaken in his accounts when he says they have
been all of his side enough to give him the vanity of
telling his name; wherein the world, with all its
wise conjectures, is yet very much in the dark;
which circumstance is no disagreeable amusement
either to the public or himself.
The author is informed that the bookseller has
prevailed on several gentlemen to write some expla-
natory notes, for the goodness of which he is not to
answer, having never seen any of them, nor intend-
ing it, till they appear in print; when it is not un-
likely he may have the pleasure to find twenty
meanings which never entered into his imagination.
June 3, 1709.
POSTSCRIPT.-Since the writing of this, which was
about a year ago, a prostitute bookseller has pub-
lished a foolish paper, under the name of " Notes on
the Tale of a Tub," with some account of the author:
and, with an insolence which I suppose is punish.
able by law, has presumed to assign certain names.
It will be enough for the author to assure the world,
that the writer of that paper is utterly wrong in all
his conjectures upon that affair. The author further
|
asserts that the whole work is entirely of one hand,
which every reader of judgment will 6-sily discove.
the gentleman who gave the copy to the bookseller,
being a friend of the author, and using no other
liberties besides that of expunging certain passages,
where now the chasms appear under the name of
desiderata. But, if any person will prove his claim
to three lines in the whole book, let him step forth
and tell his name and titles; upon which, the book-
seller shall have orders to prefix them to the next
edition, and the claimant shall from henceforward
be acknowledged the undisputed author.
Treatises written by the same author, most of them
mentioned in the following Discourses; which will
be speedily published.
A Character of the present Set of Wits in this
Island.
A panegyrical Essay upon the Number Three.
A Dissertation upon the principal Productions of
Grub-street.
Lectures upon a Dissection of Human Nature.
A Panegyric upon the World.
physiologically considered.
An analytical Discourse upon Zeal, histori-theo-
A general History of Ears.
A modest Defence of the Proceedings of the
Rabble in all ages.
A Description of the Kingdom of Absurdities.
A Voyage into England, by a Person of Quality
Original.
in terra australis incognita, translated from the
A critical Essay upon the Art of Canting, phi'o-
sophically, physically, and musically considered.
THE BOOKSELLER'S DEDICATION.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE JOHN LORD SOMERS.
MY LORD,-Although the author has written a large
dedication, yet that being addressed to a prince,
whom I am never likely to have the honour of being
known to; a person besides, as far as I can observe,
not at all regarded, or thought on by any of our pre-
sent writers; and being wholly free from that sla-
very which booksellers usually lie under, to the
caprice of authors; I think it a wise piece of pre-
sumption to inscribe these papers to your lordship
and to implore your lordship's protection of them.
God and your lordship know their faults and their
merits; for, as to my own particular, I am altogether
a stranger to the matter; and though everybody else
should be equally ignoraut, I do not fear the sale of
the book, at all the worse, upon that score.
Your
lordship's name on the front in capital letters will at
any time get off one edition: neither would I desire
any other help to grow an alderman, than a patent
for the sole privilege of dedicating to your lordship.
I should now in right of a dedicator, give your
lordship a list of your own virtues, and at the same
time, be very unwilling to offend your modesty; but
chiefly, I should celebrate your liberality towards
men of great parts and small fortunes, and give you
broad hints that I mean myself. And I was just going
on, in the usual method, to peruse a hundred or two
of dedications, and transcribe an abstract to be applied
to your lordship; but I was diverted by a certain
accident for upon the covers of these papers I
casually observed written in large letters the two
following words, DETUR DIGNISSIMO; which,
for aught I knew, might contain some important
meaning. But it unluckily fell out, that none of
the authors I employ understood Latin; (though I
have them often in pay to translate out of that lan-
guage); I was therefore compelled to have recourse
to the curate of our parish, who englished it thus,
DEDICATIONS.
89
I
"Let it be given to the worthiest :" and his com-
ment was, that the author meant his work should be
dedicated to the sublimest genius of the age for wit,
learning, judgment, eloquence, and wisdom.
called at a poet's chamber (who works for my shop)
in an alley hard by, showed him the translation, and
desired his opinion who it was that the author could
mean he told me, after some consideration, that
vanity was a thing he abhorred; but by the descrip-
tion, he thought himself to be the person aimed at;
and at the same time, he very kindly offered his own
assistance gratis towards penning a dedication to
himself. I desired him, however, to give a second
guess; Why then, said he, it must be I, or my Lord
Somers. From thence I went to several other wits
of my acquaintance, with no small hazard and
weariness to my person, from a prodigious number
of dark, winding stairs; but found them all in the
same story, both of your lordship and themselves.
Now, your lordship is to understand, that this pro-
ceeding was not of my own invention; for I have
somewhere heard it is a maxim, that those to whom
everybody allows the second place, have an undoubted
title to the first.
This infallibly convinced me that your lordship
was the person intended by the author.
But being
very unacquainted in the style and form of dedica-
tions I employed those wits aforesaid to furnish me
with hints and materials, towards a panegyric upon
your lordship's virtues.
In two days they brought me ten sheets of paper,
filled up on every side. They swore to me, that
they had ransacked whatever could be found in the
characters of Socrates, Aristides, Epaminondas, Cato,
Tully, Atticus, and other hard names, which I cannot
now recollect. However, I have reason to believe,
they imposed upon my ignorance; because, when I
came to read over their collections, there was not a
syllable there, but what I and everybody else knew
as well as themselves; therefore I grievously suspect
a cheat; and that these authors of mine stole aud
transcribed every word, from the universal report of
mankind. So that I look upon myself as fifty shil-
lings out of pocket, to no manner of purpose.
but
If by altering the title I could make the same
materials serve for another dedication (as my betters
have done), it would help to make up my loss;
I have made several persons dip here and there in
those papers, and before they read three lines, they
have all assured me plainly, that they cannot possi-
bly be applied to any person besides your lordship.
I expected indeed, to have heard of your lordship's
bravery at the head of an army; of your undaunted
courage in mounting a breach, or scaling a wall; or
to have had your pedigree traced in a lineal descent
from the house of Austria; or, of your wonderful
talent at dress and dancing; or, your profound
knowledge in algebra, metaphysics, and the criental
tongues. But to ply the world with an old beaten
story of your wit, and eloquence, and learning, and
wisdom, and justice, and politeness, and candour,
and evenness of temper in all scenes of life; of
that great discernment in discovering, and readiness
in favouring deserving men; with forty other com-
mon topics; I confess, I have neither conscience nor
countenance to do it. Because there is no virtue,
either of a public or a private life, which some cir-
cumstances of your own have not often produced
upon the stage of the world; and those few, which,
for want of occasions to exert them, might other-
wise have passed unseen, or unobserved, by your
friends, your enemies have at length brought to
light.
It is truc, I should be very loth the bright caam- |
ple of your lordship's virtues should be lost to after-
ages, both for their sake and your own; but chiefly
because they will be so very necessary to adorn the
history of a late reign; and that is another reason
why I would forbear to make a recital of them here;
because I have been told by wise men, that as dedi-
cations have run for some years past, a good historian
will not be apt to have recourse thither in search of
characters.
There is one point, wherein I think we dedicators
would do well to change our measures; I mean, in-
stead of running on so far upon the praise of our
patrons' liberality, to spend a word or two in admi-
ring their pa'ience. I can put no greater compli-
ment on your lordship's, than by giving you so
ample an occasion to exercise it at present.-Though
perhaps I shall not be apt to reckon much merit to
your lordship upon that score, who having been
formerly used to tedious harangues and sometines
to as little purpose, will be the readier to pardon this;
especially when it is offered by one, who is, with all
respect and veneration, my lord, your lordship's
most obedient and most faithful servant,
THE BOOKSELLER.
THE BOOKSELLER TO THE READER.
Ir is now six years since these papers came first to
my hand, which seems to have been about a twelve-
month after they were written; for the author tells
us in his preface to the first treatise, that he has
calculated it for the year 1697, and in several pas-
sages of that discourse, as well as the second, it
appears they were written about that time.
As to the author, I can give no manner of satis-
faction; however I am credibly informed, that this
publication is without his knowledge; for he con-
cludes the copy is lost, having lent it to a person,
since dead, and being never in possession of it after :
so that, whether the work received his last hand, or
whether he intended to fill up the defective places,
is likely to remain a secret.
If I should go about to tell the reader, by what
accident I became master of these papers, it would,
in this unbelieving age, pass for little more than the
cant or jargon of the trade. I therefore gladly spare
both him and myself so unnecessary a trouble.
There yet remains a difficult question, why I pub-
lished them no sooner. I forbore upon two accounts;
first, because I thought I had better work upon my
own hands; and secondly, because I was not without
some hope of hearing from the author, and receiving
his directions. But I have been lately alarmed with
intelligence of a surreptitious copy, which a certain
great wit had new polished and refined, or, as our
present writers express themselves, fitted to the
humour of the age: as they have already done, with
great felicity, to Don Quixote, Boccalini, La Bruyere,
and other authors. However, I thought it fairer
dealing to offer the whole work in its naturals.
any gentleman will please to furnish me with a key,
in order to explain the more difficult parts, I shall
very gratefully acknowledge the favour, and print it
by itself.
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY
TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE POSTERITY.
If
SIR,-I here present your highness with the fruits
of a very few leisure hours, stolen from the short in-
• King William's, whose nemor; he defended in the House
of Lords.
b It is the usual style of decried writers to appeal to Posterity,
who is here represented as a pince in his nonage and Time
as his governoì.
90
A TALE OF A TUB.
tervals of a world of business, and of an employ-
ment quite alien from such amusements as this the
poor production of that refuse of time, which has
laid heavy upon my hands during a long prorogation
of parliament, a great dearth of foreign news, and a
tedious fit of rainy weather; for which, and other
reasons, it cannot choose extremely to deserve such
a patronage as that of your highness, whose number-
less virtues, in so few years, make the world look
upon you as the future example to all princes; for
although your highness is hardly got clear of infancy,
yet has the universal learned world already resolved
upon appealing to your future dictates, with the
lowest and most resigned submission; fate having
decreed you sole arbiter of the productions of human
wit, in this polite and most accomplished age.
thinks the number of appellants were enough to
shock and startle any judge, of a genius less unlimited
than yours: but in order to prevent such glorious
trials, the person, it seems, to whose care the edu-
cation of your highness is committed, has resolved
as
s I am told) to keep you in almost a universal ig-
norance of our studies, which it is your inherent
birth-right to inspect.
Me-
It is amazing to me that this person should have
the assurance, in the face of the sun, to go about per-
suading your highness that our age is almost wholly
illiterate, and has hardly produced one writer upon
any subject. I know very well, that when your
highness shall come to riper years, and have gone
through the learning of antiquity, you will be too
curious to neglect inquiring into the authors of the
very age before you: and to think that this insolent,
in the account he is preparing for your view, designs
to reduce them to a number so insignificant as I am
ashamed to mention; it moves my zeal and my
spleen for the honour and interest of our vast flour-
ishing body, as well as of myself, for whom, I know
by long experience, he has professed, and still con-
tinues, a peculiar malice.
It is not unlikely that, when your highness will
one day peruse what I am now writing, you may
De ready to expostulate with your governor upon
the credit of what I here affirm, and command him
to show you some of our productions. To which he
will answer (for I am well informed of his designs),
by asking your highness where they are? and what
is become of them? and pretend it a demonstration
that there never were any, because they are not then
to be found. Not to be found! who has mislaid
them? are they sunk in the abyss of things? it is
certain, that in their own nature, they were light
enough to swim upon the surface for all eternity.
Therefore the fault is in him, who tied weights so
heavy to their heels as to depress them to the centre.
Is their very essence destroyed? who has annihilated
them? were they drowned by purges, or martyred
by pipes? who administered them to the posteriors
of ? But, that it may no longer be a doubt
with your highness, who is to be the author of this
universal ruin, I beseech you to observe that large
and terrible scythe which your governor affects to
bear continually about him. Be pleased to remark
the length and strength, the sharpness and hardness,
of his nails and teeth: consider his baneful, abomi-
nable breath, enemy to life and matter, infectious
and corrupting: and then reflect whether it be pos-
sible for any mortal ink and paper of this generation
to make a suitable resistance. O! that your highness
would one day resolve to disarm this usurping maitre
du palais of his furious engines, and bring your
empire hors de page [out of guardianship].
Comptroller. The kingdom of France had a race of kings
which they call les roys fincans from their doing nothing.
It were needless to recount the several methods
of tyranny and destruction, which your governor is
pleased to practise upon this occasion. His invete-
rate malice is such to the writings of our age, that
of several thousands produced yearly from this re-
nowned city, before the next revolution of the sun,
there is not one to be heard of: Unhappy infants!
many of them barbarously destroyed, before they have
so much as learnt their mother tongue to beg for pity.
Some he stilles in their cradles; others he frights
into convulsions, whereof they suddenly die; some
he flays alive; others he tears limb from limb.
Great numbers are offered to Moloch; and the rest,
tainted by his breath, die of a languishing consump-
tion.
But the concern I have most at heart, is for our
corporation of poets; from whom I am preparing a
petition to your highness, to be subscribed with the
names of one hundred and thirty-six of the first rate;
but whose immortal productions are never likely to
reach your eyes, though each of them is now an
humble and earnest appellant for the laurel, and has
large comely volumes ready to show, for a support to
his pretensions. The never-dying works of these
illustrious persons, your governor, sir, has devoted
to unavoidable death; and your highness is to be
made believe, that our age has never arrived at the
honour to produce one single poet.
We confess Immortality to be a great and power-
ful goddess; but in vain we offer up to her our de-
votions and our sacrifices, if your highness's governor,
who has usurped the priesthood, must, by an unpa-
ralleled ambition and avarice, wholly intercept and
devour them.
To affirm that our age is altogether unlearned,
and devoid of writers in any kind, seems to be an
assertion so bold and so false, that I have been some
time thinking the contrary may almost be proved
by uncontrollable demonstration. It is true, in-
deed, that although their numbers be vast, and their
productions numerous in proportion, yet are they
hurried so hastily off the scene, that they escape our
memory, and elude our sight. When I first thought
of this address, I had prepared a copious list of tities
to present your highness, as an undisputed argument
for what I affirm.
for what I affirm. The originals were posted fresh
upon all gates and corners of streets; but, returning
in a very few hours to take a review, they were all
torn down, and fresh ones in their places. I in-
quired after them among readers and booksellers;
but I inquired in vain; the memorial of them was
lost among men; their places were no more to be
found; and I was laughed to scorn for a clown and
a pedant, without all taste and refinement, little
versed in the course of present affairs, and that knew
nothing of what had passed in the best companies of
court and town. So that I can only avow in gene-
ral to your highness, that we do abound in learning
and wit; but to fix upon particulars, is a task too
slippery for my slender abilities. If I should ven-
ture in a windy day to affirm to your highness, that
there is a large cloud near the horizon, in the form
of a bear, another in the zenith, with the head of an
ass; a third to the westward, with claws like a
dragon; and your highness should in a few minutes
think fit to examine the truth, it is certain they would
all be changed in figure and position: new ones
would arise, and all we could agree upon would be,
that clouds there were, but that I was grossly mis-
taken in the zoography and topography of them.
But your governor perhaps may still insist, and
put the question,-What is then become of those
immense bales of paper, which must needs have boen
employed in such numbers of books? can these also
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
91
be wholly annihilate, and so of a sudden, as I pre-
tend? What shall I say in return of so invidious an
objection? it ill befits the distance between your
highness and me, to send you for ocular conviction
to a jakes, or an oven; to the windows of a bawdy-
house, or to a sordid lantern Books, like men their
authors, have no more than one way of coming into
the world, but there are ten thousand to go out of
it, and return no more.
I profess to your highness, in the integrity of my
heart, that what I am going to say is literally true
this minute I am writing: what revolutions may
happen before it shall be ready for your perusal, I
can by no means warrant: however, I beg you to
accept it as a specimen of our learning, our polite-
ness, and our wit. I do therefore affirm, upon the
word of a sincere man, that there is now actually in
being a certain poet. called Joan Dryden, whose
translation of Virgil was lately printed in a large
folio, well bound, and, if diligent search were made,
for aught I know, is yet to be seen. There is ano-
ther, called Nahum Tate, who is ready to make oath
that he has caused many reams of verse to be pub-
lished, whereof both himself and his bookseller (if
lawfully required) can still produce authentic copies,
and therefore wonders why the world is pleased to
make such a secret of it. There is a third, known
by the name of Tom Durfey, a poct of a vast com-
prehension, a universal genius, and most profound
learning. There are also one Mr. Rymer, and one
Mr. Dennis, most profound critics. There is a per-
son styled Dr. Bentley, who has written near a thou-
sand pages of immense erudition, giving a full and
true account of a certain squabble, of wonderful im-
portance, between himself and a bookseller: he is a
writer of infinite wit and humour; no man rallies
with a better grace, and in more sprightly turns.
Further, I avow to your highness, that with these
eyes I have beheld the person of William Wotton,
B.D., who has written a good sizeable volume against
a friend of your governor, (from whom, alas! he
must therefore look for little favour), in a most gen-
tlemanly style, adorned with the utmost politeness
and civility: replete with discoveries equally valua-
ble for their novelty and use; and embellished with
traits of wit, so poignant and so apposite, that he is
a worthy yokemate to his forementioned friend.
a
Why should I go upou further particulars, which
might fill a volume with the just eulogies of my con-
temporary brethren? I shall bequeath this piece of
justice to a larger work, wherein I intend to write a
character of the present set of wits in our nation :
their persons I shall describe particularly and at
length, their genius and understandings in miniature.
In the meantime I do here make bold to present
your highness with a faithful abstract, drawn from
the universal body of all arts and sciences, intended
wholly for your service and instruction: nor do I
doubt in the least, but your highness will peruse it
as carefully, and make as considerable improvements,
as other young princes have already done, by the
many volumes of late years written for a help to their
studies.
That your highness may advance in wisdom and
virtue, as well as years, and at last outshine all your
royal ancestors, shall be the daily prayer of,
Sir, your highness's most devoted, &c.
December, 1697.
* Sir William Temple, with whom Wolton was engaged in a
controversy,
Works printed for the use of the Dauphin of France.
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
THE wits of the present age being so very numerous
and penetrating, it seems the grandees of church and
state begin to fall under horrible apprehensions, lest
these gentlemen, during the intervals of a long peace,
should find leisure to pick holes in the weak sides of
religion and government. To prevent which, there
has been much thought employed of late, upon cer-
tain projects for taking off the force and edge of
those formidable inquirers, from canvassing and
reasoning upon such delicate points. They have at
length fixed upon one, which will require some time
as well as cost to perfect. Meanwhile, the danger
hourly increasing, by new levies of wits, all appointed
(as there is reason to fear) with pen, ink, and paper,
which may, at an hour's warning, be drawn out into
pamphlets, and other offensive weapons, ready for
immediate execution, it was judged of absolute ne-
cessity, that some present expedient be thought on,
till the main design can be brought to maturity.
To this end, at a grand committee some days ago,
this important discovery was made by a certain
curious and refined observer-that seamen have a
custom, when they meet a whale, to fling him out an
empty tub by way of amusement, to divert him from
laying violent hands upon the ship. This parable
was immediately mythologised; the whale was in-
terpreted to be Hobbe's Leviathan, which tosses and
plays with all schemes of religion and government,
whereof a great many are hollow, and dry, and
empty, and noisy, and wooden, and given to rota-
tion: this is the leviathan, whence the terrible wits
of our age are said to borrow their weapons. The
ship in danger is easily understood to be its old
antitype, the commonwealth. But how to analyse
the tub, was a matter of difficulty; when, after long
inquiry and debate, the literal meaning was preserved;
and it was decreed that, in order to prevent these
leviathans from tossing and sporting with the com-
monwealth, which of itself is too apt to fluctuate,
they should be diverted from that game by a Tale of
a Tub. And, my genius being conceived to lie not
happily that way, I had the honour done me to
be engaged in the performance.
This is the sole design in publishing the following
treatise, which I hope will serve for an interim of
some months to employ those unquiet spirits, till
the perfecting of that great work; into the secret of
which, it is reasonable the courteous reader should
have some little light.
It is intended, that a large academy be erected,
capable of containing nine thousand seven hundred
forty and three persons; which, by modest compu-
tation, is reckoned to be pretty near the current
number of wits in this island. These are to be dis-
posed into the several schools of this academy, and
there pursue those studies to which their genius
most inclines them. The undertaker himself will
publish his proposals with all convenient speed; to
which I shall refer the curious reader for a more par-
ticular account, mentioning at present only a few of
the principal schools. There is, first, a large pæder-
astic school, with French and Italian masters. There
is also the spelling school, a very spacious building :
the school of looking-glasses: the school of swear-
ing: the school of critics: the school of salivation:
the school of hobby-horses: the school of poetry:
the school of tops: the school of spleen: the school
of gaming: with many others, too tedious to re-
count. No person to be admitted member into any
of these schools without an attestation under two
sufficient persons' hands certifying him to be a wit.
• The number of livings in England
92
A TALE OF A TUB
The
|
custom, against the multitude of writers, whereof the
whole multitude of writers most reasonably com-
plain. I am just come from perusing some hun-
dreds of prefaces, wherein the authors do, at the
very beginning, address the gentle reader concern-
ing this enormnous g: ievance. Of these I have pre-
served a few examples, and shall set them down as
near as my memory has been able to retain them.
One begins thus:-For a man to set up for a
writer, when the press swarms with, &c.
Another :-The tax upon paper does not lessen
the number of scribblers, who daily pester, &c.
Another :-When every little would-be wit takes
pen in hand, 'tis in vain to enter the lists, &c.
Another -To observe what trash the press
swarms with, &c.
Another-Sir, It is merely in obedience to your
commands that I veuture into the public; for who
upon a less consideration would be of a party with
such a rabble of scribblers, &c.
Now, I have two words in my own defence
against this objection. First, I am far from grant-
ing the number of writers a nuisance to our nation,
having strenuously maintained the contrary, in seve-
ral parts of the following discourse. Secondly, I do
not well understand the justice of this proceeding;
because I observe many of these polite prefaces to
be not only from the same hand, but from those who
are most voluminous in their several productions.
Upon which
Upon which I shall tell the reader a short tale.
But, to return: I am sufficiently instructed in the
principal duty of a preface, if my genius were capa-
ble of arriving at it. Thrice have I forced my ima-
gination to make the tour of my invention, and
thrice it has returned empty; the latter having been
wholly drained by the following treatise. Not so
my more successful brethren the moderns; who will
by no means let slip a preface or dedication, with-
out some notable distinguishing stroke to surprise
the reader at the entry, and kindle a wonderful ex-
pectation of what is to ensue. Such was that of a
most ingenious poet, who, soliciting his brain for
something new, compared himself to the hangman,
and his patron to the patient: this was insigne, re-
cens, indictum ore alio. When I went through that
necessary and noble course of study, I had the hap-
piness to observe many such egregious touches,
which I shall not injure the authors by transplant-
ing because I have remarked, that nothing is so
very tender as a modern piece of wit, and which is
apt to suffer so much in the carriage. Some things
are extremely witty to-day, or fasting, or in this
place, or at eight o'clock, or over a bottle, or spoke
by Mr. What'd'y'call'm, or in a summer's morning:
any of the which, by the smallest transposal or mis-
application, is utterly annihilate. Thus wit has its
walks and purlieus, out of which it may not stray
the breadth of a hair, upon peril of being lost.
moderns have artfully fixed this mercury, and re-
duced it to the circumstances of time, place, aud
person. Such a jest there is, that will not pass out
of Covent-garden; and such a one that is nowhere
intelligible but at Hyde-park corner. Now, though
it sometimes tenderly affects me to consider, that all
the towardly passages I shall deliver in the following
treatise, will grow quite out of date and relish with
the first shifting of the present scene, yet I must
needs subscribe to the justice of this proceeding:
because, I cannot imagine why we should be at the
expense to furnish wit for succeeding ages, when the
former have made no sort of provision for ours:
wherein I speak the sentiment of the very newest,
and consequently the most orthodox refiners, as
well as my own. However, being extremely soli-
citous that every accomplished person, who has got
into the taste of wit calculated for this present month
of August, 1697, should descend to the very bottom
of all the sublime, throughout this treatise; I hold
fit to lay down this general maxim: whatever reader
desires to have a thorough comprehension of an au-
thor's thoughts, cannot take a better method than by
putting himself into the circumstances and postures
of life, that the writer was in upon every important
passage, as it flowed from his pen for this will in-
troduce a parity, and strict correspondence of ideas,
between the reader and the author. Now, to assist
the diligent reader in so delicate an affair, as far as
brevity will permit, I have recollected, that the
shrewdest pieces of this treatise were conceived in
bed in a garret; at other times, for a reason best
known to myself, I thought fit to sharpen my inven-
tion with hunger; and, in general, the whole work
was begun, continued, and ended, under a long
course of physic, and a great want of money. Now,
I do affirm, it will be absolutely impossible for the
candid peruser to go along with me in a great inany
bright passages, unless, upon the several difficulties.
emergent, he will please to capacitate and prepare
himself by these directions. And this I lay down as
my principal postulatum.
Because I have professed to be a most devoted ser-
vant of all modern forms, I apprehend some curious
wit may object against me, for proceeding thus far
in a preface, without declaiming, according to the
Bless
A mountebank, in Leicester-fields, had drawn a
huge assembly about him. Among the rest, a fat
unwieldly fellow, half stifled in the press, would be
every fit crying out, "Lord! what a filthy crowd is
here! pray, good people, give way a little.
me! what a devil has raked this rabble together!
z-ds? what squeezing is this! honest friend, re-
move your elbow." At last a weaver, that stood
next him, could hold no longer. "A plague con-
found you (said he) for an overgrown sloven; and
who, in the devil's name, I wonder, helps to make
up the crowd half so much as yourself! Don't you
consider, with a pox, that you take up more room with
that carcass than any five here? Is not the place as
free for us as for you? bring your own guts to a rea-
sonable compass, and be d-n'd, and then I'll en
gage we shall have room enough for us all.”
There are certain common privileges of a writer,
the benefit whereof, I hope, there will be no reason
to doubt; particularly, that where I am not under-
stood, it shall be concluded, that something very use-
ful and profound is couched underneath : and again,
that whatever word or sentence is printed in a dif-
ferent character, shall be judged to contain some-
thing extraordinary either of wit or sublime.
As for the liberty I have thought fit to take of
praising myself, upon some occasions or none, I am
sure it will need no excuse, if a multitude of great
examples be allowed sufficient authority: for it is
here to be noted, that praise was originally a pension
paid by the world; but the moderns, finding the
trouble and charge too great in collecting it, have
lately bought out the fee-simple; since which time
the right of presentation is wholly in ourselves. For
this reason it is, that when an author makes his own
eulogy, he uses a certain form to declare and insist
upon his title, which is commonly in these or the
like words, "I speak without vanity;" which I
think plainly shows it to be a matter of right and
justice. Now I do here once for all declare, that
in every encounter of this nature through the follow-
ing treatise, the form aforesaid is implied; which I
mention, to save the trouble of repeating it
mauy occasions.
so
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
93
It is a great ease to my conscience, that I have
written so elaborate and useful a discourse, without
one grain of satire intermixed; which is the sole
point wherein I have taken leave to dissent from the
famous originals of our age and country. I have ob-
served some satirists to use the public much at the
rate that pedants do a naughty boy, ready horsed for
discipline: first, expostulate the case, then plead the
necessity of the rod from great provocations, and
conclude every period with a lash. Now, if I know
anything of mankind, these gentlemen might very
well spare their reproof and correction: for there is
not, through all nature, another so callous and insen-
sible a member as the world's posteriors, whether
you apply to it the toe or the birch. Besides, most
of our late satirists seem to lie under a sort of mis-
take; that because nettles have the prerogative to
sting, therefore all other weeds must do so too. I
make not this comparison out of the least design to
detract from these worthy writers; for it is well
known among mythologists, that weeds have the
pre-eminence over all other vegetables; and there-
fore the first monarch of this island, whose taste and
judgment were so acute and refined, did very wisely
root out the roses from the collar of the order, and
plant the thistles in their stead, as the nobler flower
of the two. For which reason it is conjectured by
profounder antiquaries, that the satirical itch, so
prevalent in this part of our island, was first brought
among us from beyond the Tweed. Here may it
long flourish and abound: may it survive and ne-
glect the scorn of the world, with as much ease and
contempt as the world is insensible to the lashes of
it. May their own dullness, or that of their party,
be no discouragement for the authors to proceed;
but let them remember, it is with wits as with razors,
which are never so apt to cut those they are employ-
ed on as when they have lost their edge. Besides,
those whose teeth are too rotten to bite, are best, of
all others, qualified to revenge that defect with their
breath.
I am not like other men, to envy or undervalue
the talents I cannot reach; for which reason I must
needs bear a true honour to this large eminent sect
of our British writers. And I hope this little pane-
gyric will not be offensive to their ears, since it has
the advantage of being only designed for themselves.
Indeed, nature herself has taken order, that fame
and honour should be purchased at a better penny-
worth by satire than by any other productions of the
brain; the world being soonest provoked to praise
by lashes, as men are to love. There is a problem in
an ancient author, why dedications, and other bun-
dles of Hattery, run all upon stale musty topics, with-
out the smallest tincture of anything new; not only
to the torment and nauseating of the Christian
reader, but, if not suddenly prevented, to the uni-
versal spreading of that pestilential disease, the
lethargy, in this island: whereas there is very little
satire, which has not something in it untouched be-
fore. The defects of the former are usually im-
puted to the want of invention among those who are
dealers in that kind; but, I think, with a great deal
of injustice; the solution being easy and natural;
for the materials of panegyric, being very few in
number, have been long since exhausted. For, as
health is but one thing and has been always the
same, whereas diseases are by thousands, beside
new and daily additions; so, all the virtues that
have been ever in mankind, are to be counted upon
a few fingers; but their follies and vices are innu-
merable, and time adds hourly to the heap. Now
the utmost a poor poet can do, is to get by heart a
list of the cardinal virtues, and deal them with his
|
utmost liberality to his nero or his patron: he may
ring the changes as far as it will go, and vary his
phrase till he has talked round; but the reader
quickly finds it is all pork, with a little variety of
sauce. For there is no inventing terms of art be-
yond our ideas; and, when our ideas are exhausted
terms of art must be so too.
But though the matter for panegyric were as fruit-
ful as the topics of satire, yet would it not be hard
to find out a sufficient reason why the latter will be
always better received than the first. For, this being
bestowed only upon one, or a few persons at a time,
is sure to raise envy, and consequently ill words from
the rest, who have no share in the blessing; but sa-
tire, being levelled at all, is never resented for an
offence by any, since every individual person makes
bold to understand it of others, and very wisely re-
moves his particular part of the burden upon the
shoulders of the world, which are broad enough,
and able to bear it. To this purpose, I have some-
times reflected upon the difference between Athens
and England, with respect to the point before us.
In the Attic commonwealth, it was the privilege and
birth-right of every citizen and poet to rail aloud,
and in public, or to expose upon the stage, by name,
any person they pleased, though of the greatest
figure, whether a Creon, an Hyperbolus, an Alci-
biades, or a Demosthenes; but, on the other side,
the least reflecting word let fall against the people in
general, was immediately caught up, and revenged
upon the authors, however considerable for their
quality or their merits. Whereas in England it is just
the reverse of all this. Here, you may securely
display your utmost rhetoric against mankind, in the
face of the world; tell them,
face of the world; tell them, "That all are gone
astray; that there is none that doth good, no not
one; that we live in the very dregs of time; that
knavery and atheism are epidemic as the pox; that
honesty is fled with Astræa;" with any other com-
mon-places, equally new and eloquent, which are
furnished by the splendida bilis. [Horace. Spleen.]
And when you have done, the whole audience, far
from being offended, shall return you thanks as a
deliverer of precious and useful truths. Nay, fur-
ther; it is but to venture your lungs, and you may
preach in Covent-garden against foppery and forni-
cation, and something else: against pride and dis-
simulation, and bribery, at Whitehall: you may ex-
pose rapine and injustice in the inns of court chapel :
and in a city pulpit, be as fierce as you please against
avarice, hypocrisy, and extortion. 'Tis but a ball
bandied to and fro, and every man carries a racket
about him, to strike it from himself, among the rest
of the company. But, on the other side, whoever
should mistake the nature of things so far as to drop
but a single hint in public, how such a one starved
half the fleet, and half poisoned the rest: how such
a one, from a true principle of love and honour, pays
no debts but for wenches and play: how such a one
has got a clap, and runs out of his estate: how
Paris, bribed by Juno and Venus, loth to offend
either party, slept out the whole cause on the ben 'h :
or, how such an orator makes long speeches in the
senate, with much thought, little sense, and to no
purpose; whoever, I say, should venture to be thus
particular, must expect to be imprisoned for scanda-
lum magnatum; to have challenges sent him; to be
sued for defamation; and to be brought before the
bar of the house.
But I forget that I am expatiating on a subject
wherein I have no concern, having neither a talent
nor an inclination for satire. On the other side, I
am so entirely satisfied with the whole present pro
cedure of human things, that I have been some year
94
A TALE OF A TUB
preparing materials towards "A panegyric upon the
World;" to which I intended to add a second part,
entitled, “a
a modest defence of the Proceedings of
the Rabble in all Ages." Both these I had thoughts
to publish, by way of appendix to the following
treatise; but finding my commonplace book fill much
slower than I had reason to expect, I have chosen
to defer them to another occasion. Besides, I have
been unhappily prevented in that design by a cer-
tain domestic misfortune; in the particulars whereof,
though it would be very seasonable, and much in
the modern way, to inform the gentle reader, and
would also be of great assistance towards extending
this preface into the size now in vogue, which by
rule ought to be large in proportion as the subse-
quent volume is small; yet I shall now dismiss our
impatient reader from any further attendance at the
porch, and, having duly prepared his mind by a pre-
liminary discourse, shall gladly introduce him to
the sublime mysteries that ensue.
August, 1697.
SECTION THE FIRST.
Democritus, dum ridet, philosophatur.
THE INTRODUCTION.
WHOEVER has an ambition to be heard in a crowd,
must press, and squeeze, and thrust, and climb, with
indefatigable pains, till he has exalted himself to a
certain degree of altitude above them. Now in all
assemblies, though you wedge them ever so close,
we may observe this peculiar property, that over
their heads there is room enough, but how to reach
it is the difficult point; it being as hard to get quit
of number as of hell;
-evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus, hic labor est.a-VIRGIL.
To this end, the philosopher's way, in all ages,
has been by erecting certain edifices in the air: but,
whatever practice and reputation these kind of
structures have formerly possessed, or may still con-
tinue in, not excepting even that of Socrates, when
he was suspended in a basket to help contemplation,
I think, with due submission, they seem to labour
under two inconveniences. First, That the founda-
tions being laid too high, they have been often out
of sight, and ever out of hearing. Secondly, That
the materials, being very transitory, have suffered
much from inclemencies of air, especially in these
north-west regions.
Therefore, towards the just performance of this
great work, there remain but three methods that I
can think of; whereof the wisdom of our ancestors
being highly sensible, has, to encourage all aspiring
adventurers, thought fit to erect three wooden ma-
chines for the use of those orators who desire to talk
much without interruption. These are, the pulpit,
the ladder, and the stage itinerant. For as to the
bar, though it be compounded of the same matter,
and designed for the same usc, it cannot, however,
be well allowed the honour of a fourth, by reason of
its level or inferior situation exposing it to perpetual
interruption from collaterals. Neither can the bench.
itself, though raised to a prominency, put in a better
claim, whatever its advocates insist on. For, if they
please to look into the original design of its erection,
and the circumstances or adjuncts subservient to that
design, they will soon acknowledge the present
practice exactly correspondent to the primitive insti-
tution, and both to answer the etymology of the
name, which in the Phoenician tongue is a word of
great signification, importing, if literally interpreted,
But to return, and view the cheerful skies;
In this the task and mighty labour lies -DRYDEN
the place of sleep; but in common acceptation, a
seat well bolstered and cushioned, for the repose of
old and gouty limbs: senes ut in otia tuta recedant.
Fortune being indebted to them this part of retalia-
tion, that, as formerly they have long talked while
others slept; so now they may sleep as long while
others talk.
But if no other argument could occur to exclude the
bench and the bar from the list of oratorial machines,
it were sufficient that the admission of them would
overthrow a number, which I was resolved to esta-
blish, whatever argument it might cost me; in imi-
tation of that prudent method observed by many
other philosophers and great clerks, whose chief art
in division has been to grow fond of some proper
mystical number, which their imaginations have ren-
dered sacred, to a degree, that they force common
reason to find room for it, in every part of nature;
reducing, including, and adjusting every genus
and species within that compass, by coupling some
against their wills, and banishing others at any rate.
Now, among all the rest, the profound number
THREE is that which has most employed my sub-
limest speculations, nor ever without wonderful de-
light. There is now in the press, and will be pub-
lished next term, a panegyrical essay of mine upon
this number; wherein I have, by most convincing
proofs, not only reduced the senses and the elements
under its banner, but brought over several deserters
from its two great rivals, SEVEN and NINE; the
two climacterics.
Now, the first of these oratorial machines, in place
as well as dignity, is the pulpit. Of pulpits there
are in this island several sorts; but I esteem only
that made of timber from the sylva Caledonia, [Scot-
land,] which agrees very well with our climate. If
it be upon its decay, it is the better both for con-
veyance of sound, and for other reasons to be meu-
tioned by and by. The degree of perfection in shape
and size I take to consist in being extremely narrow,
with little ornament; and, best of all, without cover,
(for, by ancient rule, it ought to be the only unco-
vered vessel in every assembly, where it is rightfully
used,) by which means, from its near resemblance
to a pillory, it will ever have a mighty influence on
human cars.
Of ladders I need say nothing it is observed by
foreigners themselves, to the honour of our country,
that we excel all nations in our practice and under-
standing of this machine. The ascending orators
do not only oblige their audience in the agreeable
delivery, but the whole world in the early publica-
tion of their speeches; which I look upon as the
choicest treasury of our British eloquence, and
whereof, I am informed, that worthy citizen and
bookseller, Mr. John Dunton, hath made a faithful
and painful collection, which he shortly designs to
publish, in twelve volumes in folio, illustrated with
copper-plates. A work highly useful and curious,
and altogether worthy of such a hand.
с
a
The last engine of orators is the stage itinerant,b
erected with much sagacity, sub Jove pluvio, in tri-
viis et quadriviis. It is the great seminary of the
two former, and its orators are sometimes preferred
to the one, and sometimes to the other, in proportion
to their deservings; there being a strict and perpe-
tual intercourse between all three.
a Mr. John Dunton, bookseller. IIe published his Life and
Errors, in which he mentions the booksellers, publishers, sta-
tioners, and printers in London; and ends with the character
of 17 bookbinders.
b The mountebank's stage, whose orators the author deter.
mine, either to the gallows or a conventiele.-H.
In the open air, and in streets where the greatest resort
is - II.
THE INTRODUCTION.
95
F
From this accurate deduction it is manifest, that
for obtaining attention in public there is of necessity
required a superior position of place. But, although
this point be generally granted, yet the cause is little
agreed in; and it seems to me that very few philoso-
phers have fallen into a true. natural solution of this
phenomenon. The deepest account, and the most
fairly digested of any I have yet met with, is this;
that air being a heavy body, and therefore, according
to the system of Epicurus, [Lucretius, lib. 2.] con-
tinually descending, must needs be more so when
loaded and pressed down by words; which are also
bodies of much weight and gravity, as it is manifest
from those deep impressions they make and leave
upon us; and therefore must be delivered from a due
altitude, or else they will neither carry a good aim,
nor fall down with a sufficient force.
Corpoream quoque enim vocem constare fatendum est,
Et sonitum, quoniam possunt impellere sensus.ª
LUCR. Lib. 4.
of authors are indebted for their fame. Of faction,
Hiatus in MS.
because
Of poetry, because its orators do
perorare with a song; and because, climbing up by
slow degrees, fate is sure to turn them off, before
they can reach within many steps of the top: and
because it is a preferment attained by transferring of
propriety, and a confounding of meum and tuum.
Under the stage itinerant are couched those pro-
ductions designed for the pleasure and delight of
mortal man; such as, Six-penny-worth of Wit,
Westminster Drolleries, Delightful Tales, Complete
Jesters, and the like; by which the writers of and
for Grub-street have in these latter ages so nobly
triumphed over Time; have clipped his wings,
pared his nails, filed his teeth, turned back his hour-
glass, blunted his scythe, and drawn the hobnails
out of his shoes. It is under this class I have pre-
sumed to list my present treatise, being just come
from having the honour conferred upon me to be
adopted a member of that illustrious fraternity.
Now, I am not unaware how the productions of
the Grub-street brotherhood have of late years fallen
under many prejudices, nor how it has been the per-
And I am the readier to favour this conjecture,
from a common observation, that in the several as-
semblies of these orators nature itself has instructed
the hearers to stand with their mouths open, and
erected parallel to the horizon, so as they may be in-petual employment of two junior start-up societies
tersected by a perpendicular line from the zenith to
the centre of the earth. In which position, if the
audience be well compact, every one carries home a
share, and little or nothing is lost.
C
to ridicule them and their authors, as unworthy
their established post in the commonwealth of wit
and learning. Their own consciences will easily
inform them whom I mean; nor has the world been
so negligent a looker-on as not to observe the con-
tinual efforts made by the societies of Gresham ↳
and of Will's to edify a name and reputation upon
the ruin of OURS. And this is yet a more feeling
grief to us, upon the regards of tenderness as well
as of justice, when we reflect on their proceedings
not only as unjust, but as ungrateful, undutiful, and
unnatural. For how can it be forgot by the world
or themselves, to say nothing of our own records,
which are full and clear in the point, that they both
are seminaries not only of our planting, but our
watering too? I am informed, our two rivals have
lately made an offer to enter into the lists with
united forces, and challenge us to a comparison of
I confess there is something yet more refined, in
the contrivance and structure of
of our modern
theatres. For, first, the pit is sunk below the
stage, with due regard to the institution above de-
duced; that, whatever weighty matter shall be
delivered thence, whether it be lead or gold, may
fall plump into the jaws of certain critics, as I think
they are called, which stand ready opened to devour
them. Then, the boxes are built round, and raised
to a level with the scene, in deference to the ladies;
because, that large portion of wit, laid out in raising
pruriences and protuberances, is observed to run
much upon a line, and ever in a circle. The whin-
ing passions, and little starved conceits, are gently
wafted up by their own extreme levity, to the mid-books, both as to weight and number. In return to
dle region, and there fix and are frozen by the frigid
understandings of the inhabitants. Bombastry and
buffoonery, by nature lofty and light, soar highest of
all, and would be lost in the roof, if the prudent
architect had not, with much foresight, contrived
for them a fourth place, called the twelve-penny
gallery, and there planted a suitable colony, who
greedily intercept them in their passage.
Now this physico-logical scheme of oratorial re-
ceptacles or machines contains a great mystery;
being a type, a sign, an emblem, a shadow, a symbol,
bearing analogy to the spacious commonwealth of
writers, and to those methods by which they must
exalt themselves to a certain eminency above the in-
ferior world. By the pulpit are adumbrated the
writings of our modern saints in Great Britain, as
they have spiritualized and refined them, from the
dross and grossness of sense and human reason.
The matter, as we have said, is of rotten wood;
and that upon two considerations; because it is the
quality of rotten wood to give light in the dark
and secondly, because its cavities are full of worms;
which is a type with a pair of handles, having a re-
spect to the two principal qualifications of the
orator, and the two different fates attending upon
his works.
The ladder is an adequate symbol of faction and
of poetry, to both of which so noble a number
'Tis certain then, that voice that thus can wound
Is all material; body every sound.
:
which, with licence from our president, I humbly
offer two answers: first, we say, the proposal is like
that which Archimedes made upon a smaller affair,d
including an impossibility in the practice; for
where can they find scales of capacity enough for
the first; or an arithmetician of capacity enough for
the second? Secondly, we are ready to accept the
challenge; but with this condition, that a third in-
different person be assigned, to whose impartial
judgment it should be left to decide which society
each book, treatise, or pamphlet, do most properly
belong to. This point, God knows, is very far
from being fixed at present; for we are ready to
produce a catalogue of some thousands, which in all
common justice ought to be entitled to our frater.
nity, but by the revolted and newfangled writers,
most prefidiously ascribed to the others. Upon all
which, we think it very unbecoming our prudence
that the determination should be remitted to the
authors themselves; when our adversaries, by
briguing and caballing, have caused so universal à
defection from us, that the greatest part of our
society has already deserted to them, and our nearest
a Heye is pretended a defect in the manuscript; and this is
very frequent with our author, when he thinks he cannot say
anything worth reading, or when he has no mind to euter où
the subject.
↳ Gresham College was the place where the Royal Society met.
• Will's coffee-house, in Covent-garden, formerly the place
where the poets usually met
Fiz. Ahout moving the earth.
B6
A TALE OF A TUB.
friends begin to stand aloof, as if they were half have made is much greater, having already finished
ashamed to own us.
This is the utmost I am authorized to say upon so
ungrateful and melancholy a subject; because we
are extremely unwilling to inflame a controversy
whose continuance may be so fatal to the interests
of us all, desiring much rather that things be amica-
bly composed; and we shall so far advance on our
side as to be ready to receive the two prodigals with
open arms whenever they shall think fit to return
from their husks and their harlots; which, I think,
from the present course of their studies," they most
properly may be said to be engaged in; and, like an
indulgent parent, continue to them our affection and
our blessing.
But the greatest maim given to that general recep-
tion which the writings of our society have formerly
received (next to the transitory state of all sublu-
nary things) has been a superficial vein among
many readers of the present age, who will by no
means be persuaded to inspect beyond the surface
and the rind of things; whereas, wisdom is a fox,
who, after long hunting, will at last cost you the
pains to dig out; it is a cheese, which, by how
much the richer, has the thicker, the homelier, and
the coarser coat; and whereof, to a judicious palate,
the maggots are the best: it is a sack-posset,
wherein the deeper you go, you will find it the
sweeter. Wisdom is a hen, whose cackling we
must value and consider, because it is attended with
an egg; but then lastly, it is a nut, which, unless
you choose with judgment, may cost you a tooth,
and pay you with nothing but a worm. In conse-
quence of these momentous truths, the grubæan
sages have always chosen to convey their precepts.
and their arts shut up within the vehicles of types
and fables; which having been perhaps more care-
ful and curious in adorning than was altogether
necessary, it has fared with these vehicles, after the
usual fate of coaches over-finely painted and gilt,
that the transitory gazers have so dazzled their eyes
and filled their imaginations with the outward
lustre, as neither to regard or consider the person or
the parts of the owner within. A misfortune we
undergo with somewhat less reluctancy, because it
has been commou to us with Pythagoras, Esop,
Socrates, and other of our predecessors.
However, that neither the world nor ourselves.
may any longer suffer by such misunderstandings, I
have been prevailed on, after much importunity
from my friends, to travel in a complete and labori-
ous dissertation upon the prime productions of our
society; which, beside their beautiful externals, for
the gratification of superficial readers, have darkly
and deeply couched under them the most finished
and refined systems of all sciences and arts; as I do
not doubt to lay open, by untwisting or unwinding,
and either to draw up by exantlation, or display by
incision.
This great work was entered upon some years
ago, by one of our most eminent members: he be-
gan with the History of Reynard the Fox,b but
neither lived to publish his essay nor to proceed
farther in so useful an attempt; which is very much
to be lamented, because the discovery he made and
communicated with his friends is now universally
received; nor do I think any of the learned will
dispute that famous treatise to be a complete body
of civil knowledge, and the revelation, or rather the
apocalypse, of all state arcana. But the progress I
Virt 10so experiments. and modern comedies.
The "History of Reynart the Foxe," an admirable thing,
and the design to represent a wise and pohtic government. #
was translated into English, and printed by Caxtou.
my annotations upon several dozens; from some of
which I shall impart a few hints to the candid
reader, as far as will be necessary to the conclusion
at which I aim.
The first piece I have handled is that of Tom
Thumb, whose author was a Pythagorean philoso-
pher. This dark treatise contains the whole scheme
of the Metempsychosis, deducing the progress of
the soul through all her stages.
The next is Dr. Faustus, penned by Artephius,
an author bone note, and an adeptus; he published
it in the nine-hundred-eighty-fourth year of his
age; this writer proceeds wholly by reincrudation,
or in the via humida; and the marriage between
Faustus and Helen does most conspicuously diluci-
date the fermenting of the male and female dragon.
Whittington and his Cat is the work of that
mysterious rabbi, Jehuda Haunasi, containing a de-
fence of the gemara of the Jerusalem misua, and
its just preference to that of Babylon, contrary to
the vulgar opinion.
b
The Hind and Panther. This is the masterpiece
of a famous writer now living, intended for a com-
plete abstract of sixteen thousand school-men, from
Scotus to Bellarmin.
Tommy Pots. [A popular ballad.] Another
piece, supposed by the same hand, by way of supple-
ment to the former.
The Wise Men of Gotham, cum appendice. This
is a treatise of immense erudition, being the great
original and fountain of those arguments bandied
about both in France and England for a just defence
of the moderns' learning and wit, against the pre-
sumption, the pride and ignorance of the ancients.
This unknown author has so exhausted the subject,
that a penetrating reader will easily discover what-
ever has been written since upon that dispute to be
little more than repetition. An abstract of this
treatise has been lately published by a worthy mem-
ber of our society.
These notices may serve to give the learned reader
an idea, as well as a taste, of what the whole work
is hkely to produce; wherein I have now altogether
circumscribed my thoughts and my studies; and, if
I can bring it to a perfection before I die, shall
reckon I have well employed the poor remains of an
unfortunate life. This, indeed, is more than I can
justly expect, from a quill worn to the pith in the
service of the state, in pros and cons upon Popish
plots, and meal-tubs, and exclusion bills, and pas-
sive obedience, and addresses of lives and fortunes,
and prerogative, and property, and liberty of con-
science, and letters to a friend; from an under-
standing and a conscience threadbare and ragged
with perpetual turning; from a head broken in a
hundred places by the malignants of the opposite
factions; and from a body spent with poxes ill
cured, by trusting to bawds and surgeons, who, as it
afterwards appeared, were professed enemies to me
and the government, and revenged their party's
Fourscore and
quariel upon my nose and shins.
cleven pamphlets have I written under three reigns,
and for the service of six-and-thirty factions. But,
finding the state has no farther occasion for me and
my ink, I retire willingly to draw it out into specu-
lations more becoming a philosopher; having, to my
a The chemists say of him in their books that he prolonged
his life to a thousand years, and then died voluntarily.
b The gemata is the decision, explanation, or interpretation
of the Jewish rabbis; and the misna is properly the code or
body of the Jewish civil or common law.
C
In kiug Charles the Second's time there was an account of
presbyterian plot, found in a tub, which then made much
Doise.
A TALE OF A TUR.
97
unspeakabic comfort, passed a long ufe with a con-
science void of offence.
But to return. I am assured, from the reader's
candour, that the brief specimen I have given will
easily clear all the rest of our society's productions
from an aspersion grown, as it is manifest, out of
envy and ignorance; that they are of little farther
use or value to mankind beyond the common enter-
tainments of their wit and their style; for these I
ani sure have never yet been disputed by our keen-
est adversaries; in both which, as well as the more
profound and mystical part, I have, throughout this
treatise, closely followed the most applauded originals.
And to render all complete, I have, with much
thought and application of mind, so ordered, that
the chief title prefixed to it, I mean that under
which I design it shall pass in the common conver-
sations of court and town, is modelled exactly after
the manner peculiar to our society.
I confess to have been somewhat liberal in the
business of titles, having observed the humour of
multiplying them to bear great vogue among certain
writers, whom I exceedingly reverence. And indeed
it seems not unreasonable that books, the children
of the brain, should have the honour to be christened
with variety of names as well as other infants of
quality. Our famous Dryden has ventured to pro-
ceed a point farther, endeavouring to introduce also
a multiplicity of godfathers; which is an improve-
ment of much more advantage upon a very obvious
account. It is a pity this admirable invention has
not been better cultivated, so as to grow by this
time into general imitation, when such an authority
serves it for a precedent
Nor have my endeavours
been wanting to second so useful an example; but
it seems there is an unhappy expense usually an-
nexed to the calling of a godfather, which was clearly
out of my head, as it is very reasonable to believe.
Where the pinch lay I cannot certainly affirm ; but
having employed a world of thoughts and pains to
split my treatise into forty sections, and having en-
treated forty lords of my acquaintance that they
would do me the honour to stand, they all made it a
matter of conscience, and sent me their excuses.
SECTION THE SECOND.
a
ONCE upon a time there was a man who had three
sons by one wife, and all at a birth, neither could
the midwife tell certainly which was the eldest.
Their father died while they were young; and upon
his death-bed, calling the lads to him, spoke thus:
"Sons, because I have purchased no estate, nor
was born to any, I have long considered of some
good legacies to bequeath you; and at last, with
much care, as well as expense, have provided each
of you (here they are) a new coat. The christian
religion.] Now, you are to understand that these
coats have two virtues contained in them; one is,
that with good wearing they will last you fresh and
sound as long as you live; the other is, that they
will grow in the same proportion with your bodies,
lengthening and widening of themselves, so as to
be always fit. Here; let me see them on you be-
fore I die. So; very well; pray, children, wear
them clean, and brush them often. You will find
in my will [the Bible], here it is, full instructions
in every particular concerning the wearing and
management of your coats; wherein you must be
very exact, to avoid the penalties I have ap-
a Peter, Martin, and Jack, represent popery, the church of
England, and protestant dissenters.
bie. Admits of decent ceremonies.
C
Keep up the purity of religion.
VOL. I.
pointed for every transgression or neglect, upon
which your future fortunes will entirely depend. I
have also commanded in my will that you should
live together in one house like brethren and friends,
for then you will be sure to thrive, and not other-
wise."
Here the story says, this good father died, and
the three sons went all together to seek their for-
tunes.
I shall not trouble you with recounting what ad-
ventures they met for the first seven years, any far-
ther than by taking notice that they carefully ob-
served their father's will, and kept their coats in
very good order: that they travelled through severa!
countries, encountered a reasonable quantity of
giants, and slew certain dragons.
b
Being now arrived at the proper age for producing
themselves, they came up to town, and fell in love
with the ladies, but especially three, who about that
time were in chief reputation; the Duchess d'Argent,
Madame de Grands Titres, and the Countess d'Or-
gueil. On their first appearance our three adven-
turers met with a very bad reception; and soon
with great sagacity guessing out the reason, they
quickly began to improve in the good qualities of
the town; they wrote, and rallied, and rhymed,
and sung, and said, and said nothing; they drank,
and fought, and whored, and slept, and swore, and
took snuff; they went to new plays on the first
night, haunted the chocolate-houses, beat the watch,
lay on bulks, and got claps; they bilked hackney-
coachmen, ran in debt with shopkeepers, and lay
with their wives; they killed bailiffs, kicked fiddlers
down stairs, eat at Locket's, loitered at Will's; they
talked of the drawing-room, and never came there;
dined with lords they never saw; whispered a
duchess, and spoke never a word; exposed the
scrawls of their laundress for billets-doux of quality;
came ever just from court, and were never seen in
it; attended the levee sub dio; got a list of peers by
heart in one company, and with great familiarity
retailed them in another. Above all, they con-
stantly attended those committees of senators who
are silent in the house and loud in the coffee-house;
where they nightly adjourn to chew the cud of
politics, and are encompassed with a ring of dis-
ciples, who lie in wait to catch up their droppings.
The three brothers had acquired forty other quali-
fications of the like stamp, too tedious to recount,
and by consequence were justly reckoned the most
accomplished persons in the town; but all would
not suffice, and the ladies aforesaid continued still
inflexible. To clear up which difficulty I must,
with the reader's good leave and patience, have re-
course to some points of weight, which the authors
of that age have not sufficiently illustrated.
For about this time it happened a sect arose c
whose tenets obtained and spread very far, especially
in the grand monde, and among everybody of good
their doctrine delivered, did daily create men by a
fashion. They worshipped a sort of idol,d who, as
kind of manufactory operation. This idol they
placed in the highest part of the house, on an altar
erected about three foot; he was shown in the
pos-
ture of a Persian emperor, sitting on a superficies,
with his legs interwoven under him. This god had
a goose for his ensign; whence it is that some
learned men pretend to deduce his original from
• Coretousness, ambition, and pride; the three vices tha
the ancient fathers inveighed against.
b Noted taverus in London.
• This is an occasional satire upon dress and fashion. iz
order to introduce what follows.
d By this idol is meant a tailor.
H
·
1
98
A TALE OF A TUB
Jupiter Capitolinus. At his left hand, beneath the
altar, hell seemed to open and catch at the animals
the idol was creating; to prevent which, certain of
his priests hourly flung in pieces of the uninformed
mass, or substance, and sometimes whole limbs.
already enlivened, which that horrid gulf insatiably
swallowed, terrible to behold. The goose was also
held a subaltern divinity or deus minorum gentium,
before whose shrine was sacrificed that creature
whose hourly food is human gore, and who is in so
great renown abroad for being the delight and fa-
vourite of the Egyptian Cercopithecus. Millions
of these animals were cruelly slaughtered every day
to appease the hunger of that consuming deity. The
chief idol was also worshipped as the inventor of the
yard and needle; whether as the god of seamen, or
on account of certain other mystical attributes, has
not been sufficiently cleared.
soul was the outward, and the body the inward
clothing; that the latter was ex traduce; but the
former of daily creation and circumfusion; this last
they proved by scripture, because in them we live,
and move, and have our being; as likewise by phi-
losophy, because they are all in all, and all in every
part. Besides, said they, separate these two and
you will find the body to be only a senseless un-
savoury carcase by all which it is manifest that
the outward dress must needs be the soul.
To this system of religion were tagged several
subaltern doctrines, which were entertained with
great vogue: as particularly the faculties of the mind
were deduced by the learned among them in this
manner; embroidery was sheer wit, gold fringe was
agreeable conversation, gold lace was repartee, a
huge long periwig was humour, and a coat full of
powder was very good raillery-all which required
abundance of finesse and delicatesse to manage with
advantage, as well as a strict observance after times
and fashions.
The worshippers of this deity had also a system
of their belief, which seemed to turn upon the fol-
lowing fundamentals. They held the universe to be
a large suit of clothes, which invests everything; I have, with much pains and reading, collected
that the earth is invested by the air; the air is in- out of ancient authors this short summary of a body
vested by the stars; and the stars are invested by of philosophy and divinity, which seems to have
the primum mobile. Look on this globe of earth, been composed by a vein and race of thinking very
you will find it to be a very complete and fashionable different from any other systems either ancient or
dress. What is that which some call land but a fine modern. And it was not merely to entertain or
coat faced with green? or the sea, but a waistcoat satisfy the reader's curiosity, but rather to give him
of water-tabby? Proceed to the particular works light into several circunstances of the following
of the creation, you will find how curious journey-story; that, knowing the state of dispositions and
man Nature has been to trim up the vegetable
beaux; observe how sparkish a periwig adorns the
head of a beech, and what a fine doublet of white satin
is worn by the birch. To conclude from all, what is
man himself but a micro-coat, or rather a complete
suit of clothes with all its trimmings? As to his body
there can be no dispute; but examine even the ac-
quirements of his mind, you will find them all cou-
tribute in their order towards furnishing out an
exact dress to instance no more; is not religion a
cloak, honesty a pair of shoes worn out in the dirt,
self-love a surtout, vanity a shirt, and conscience a
pair of breeches, which, though a cover for lewdness
as well as nastiness, is easily slipt down for the ser-
vice of both ?b
These postulata being admitted, it will follow in
due course of reasoning that those beings, which the
world calls improperly suits of clothes, are in reality
the most refined species of animals; or, to proceed
higher, that they are rational creatures or men.
For, is it not manifest that they live, and move,
and talk, and perform all other offices of human
life? are not beauty, and wit, and mien, and breed-
ing, their inseparable proprieties in short, we see
nothing but them, hear nothing but them. Is it
not they who walk the streets, fill up parliament-,
coffee-, play-, bawdy - houses? It is true, in-
deed, that these animals, which are vulgarly called
suits of clothes, or dresses, do, according to certain
compositions, receive different appellations. If one
of them be trimmed up with a gold chain, and a red
gown, and a white rod, and a great horse, it is called
a lord-mayor if certain ermines and furs be
placed in a certain position, we style them a judge;
and so an apt conjunction of lawn and black satin
we entitle a bishop.
Others of these professors, though agreeing in the
main system, were yet more refined upon certain
branches of it; and held that man was an animal
compounded of two dresses, the natural and celestial
suit, which were the body and the soul: that the
·
Alluding to the word microcosm, or a little world, as man
has been called by philosophers.
A satire upon the fanatics.
|
|
opinions in an age so remote, he may better com-
prehend those great events which were the issue of
them. I advise, therefore, the courteous reader to
peruse with a world of application, again and again,
whatever I have written upon this matter.
leaving these broken ends, I carefully gather up the
chief thread of my story and proceed.
And so
These opinions, therefore, were so universal, as
well as the practices of them, among the refined
part of court and town, that our three brother ad-
venturers, as their circumstances then stood, were
strangely at a loss. For, on the one side, the three
ladies they addressed themselves to, whom we have
named already, were ever at the very top of the
fashion, and abhorred all that were below it but
the breadth of a hair. On the other side, their
father's will was very precise; and it was the main
precept in it, with the greatest penalties annexed,
not to add to or diminish from their coats one
thread, without a positive command in the will.
Now, the coats their father had left them were, it is
true, of very good cloth, and besides so neatly sewn,
you would swear they were all of a piece; but at
the same time very plain, and with little or no orna-
ment: and it happened that before they were a
month in town great shoulder-knots came up a
straight all the world was shoulder-knots-no ap-
proaching the ladies' ruelles without the quota of
shoulder-knots. That fellow, cries one, has no soul;
where is his shoulder-knot? Our three brethren
soon discovered their want by sad experience, meet-
ing in their walks with forty mortifications and
indignities. If they went to the playhouse the aoor-
keeper showed them into the twelvepenny galery ;
if they called a boat, says a waterman, "I am first
sculler;" if they stepped to the Rose to take a bottle,
the drawer would cry, Friend, we sell no ale;"
if they went to visit a lady, a footman met them at
the door with "Pray send up your message." In
this unhappy case they went immediately to consult
their father's will, read .t over and over, but not a
word of the shoulder-knot. What should they do?
a
"C
Popery is here exposed. Peter begins his pranks with
adding a shoulder-knot to his coat.
A TALE OF A TUB.
99
ر
-what temper should they find -obedience was
absolutely necessary, and yet shoulder-knots ap-
peared extremely requisite. After much thought
one of the brothers, who happened to be more book-
learned than the other two, said he had found an
expedient. It is true, said he, there is nothing here
in this will, totidem verbis, making mention of
shoulder-knots: but I dare conjecture we may find
them inclusive, or totidem syllabis. This distinction
was immediately approved by all, and so they fell
again to examine; but their evil star had so directed
the matter that the first syllable was not to be found
in the whole writings. Upon which disappointment,
he who found the former evasion took heart, and
said, "Brothers, there are yet hopes; for though we
cannot find them totidem verbis, nor totidem syllabis,
I dare engage we shall make them out tertio modo or
totidem literis. This discovery was also highly com-
mended, upon which they fell once more to the scru-
tiny, and soon picked out S,H,O,U,L,D,E,R; when
the same planet, enemy to their repose, had won-
derfully contrived that a K was not to be found.
Here was a weighty difficulty! but the distinguish-
ing brother, for whom we shall hereafter find a name,
now his hand was in, proved by a very good argu-
ment that K was a modern, illegitimate letter, un-
known to the learned ages, nor anywhere to be
found in ancient manuscripts. It is true, said he,
the word Calendæ hath in Q. V. C. been sometimes
written with a K, but erroneously; for in the best
copies it has been ever spelt with a C. And, by
consequence, it was a gross mistake in our language
to spell knot with a K; but that from henceforward
he would take care it should be written with a C.b
Upon this all farther difficulty vanished-shoulder-
knots were made clearly out to be jure paterno, and
our three gentlemen swaggered with as large and as
flaunting ones as the best. But, as human happi-
ness is of a very short duration, so in those days
were human fashions, upon which it entirely de-
pends. Shoulder-knots had their time, and we
must now imagine them in their decline; for a cer-
tain lord came just from Paris, with fifty yards of
gold lace upon his coat, exactly trimmed after the
court fashion of that month In two days all man-
kind appeared closed up in bars of gold lace: who-
ever durst peep abroad without his complement of
gold lace was as scandalous as a, and as ill re-
ceived among the women: what should our three
knights do in this momentous affair they had suffi-
ciently strained a point already in the affair of
shoulder-knots: upon recourse to the will, nothing
appeared there but altum silentium. That of the
shoulder-knots was a loose, flying, circumstantial
point; but this of gold lace seemed too considerable
an alteration without better warrant; it did aliquo
modo essentiæ adhærere, and therefore required a
positive precept. But about this time it fell out
that the learned brother aforesaid had read Aristotelis
dialectica, and especially that wonderful piece de
interpretatione, which has the faculty of teaching its
readers to find out a meaning in everything but
itself; like commentators on the Revelations, who
proceed prophets without understanding a syllable
of the text. Brothers, said he, you are to be in-
formed that of wills duo sunt genera, nuncupatoryd
and scriptory: that in the scriptory will here before
us there is no precept or mention about gold lace,
conceditur: but si idem affirmetur de nuncupatorio,
negatur. For, brothers, if you remember, we heard a
• Quibusdam veteribus codicibus.-Ancient mauuscript.
The schoolmen are ridiculed.
• New methods of forcing and perverting scripture.
d By this is meant tradition.
fellow say when we were boys that he heard my
father's man say that he would advise his sons to
get gold lace on their coats as soon as ever they
could procure money to buy it. By G-! that is
very true, cries the other; I remember it perfectly
well, said the third.
well, said the third. And so without more ado
they got the largest gold lace in the parish, and
walked about as fine as lords.
A while after there came up all in fashion a pretty
sort of flame-coloured satin b for linings; and the
mercer brought a pattern of it immediately to our
three gentlemen; An please your worships, said he,
my lord Conway and Sir John Walters had linings
out of this very piece last night: it takes wonder-
fully, and I shall not have a remnant left enough to
make my wife a pincushion by to-morrow morning
at ten o'clock. Upon this they fell again to rum-
mage the will, because the present case also required
a positive precept-the lining being held by ortho-
dox writers to be of the essence of the coat. After
a long search they could fix upon nothing to the
matter in hand, except a short advice of their father
in the will to take care of fire and put out their
candles before they went to sleep. This, though a
good deal for the purpose, and helping very far to-
wards self-conviction, yet not seeming wholly of
force to establish a command (being resolved to
avoid further scruple as well as future occasion for
scandal), says he that was the scholar, I remember
to have read in wills of a codicil annexed, which is
indeed a part of the will, and what it contains has
equal authority with the rest. Now, I have been
considering of this same will here before us, and I
cannot reckon it to be complete for want of such a
codicil: I will therefore fasten one in its proper
place very dexterously-I have had it by me some
time-it was written by a dog-keeper of my grand-
father's, and talks a great deal, as good luck would
have it, of this very flame-coloured satin.
The pro-
ject was immediately approved by the other two;
an old parchment scroll was tagged on according to
art in the form of a codicil annexed, and the satin
bought and worn.
•
Next winter a player, hired for the purpose by the
corporation of fringe-makers, acted his part in a new
comedy, all covered with silver fringe,d and, ac-
cording to the laudable custom, gave rise to that
fashion. Upon which the brothers, consulting their
father's will, to their great astonishment found these
words; item, I charge and command my said three
sons to wear no sort of silver fringe upon or about
their said coats, &c., with a penalty, in case of dis-
obedience, too long here to insert. However, after
some pause, the brother so often mentioned for his
crudition, who was well skilled in criticisms, had
found in a certain author, which he said should be
nameless, that the same word which in the will is
called fringe does also signify a broomstick : and
doubtless ought to have the same interpretation in
this paragraph. This another of the brothers dis-
liked, because of that epithet silver, which could
not he humbly conceived in propriety of speech be
reasonably applied to a broomstick: but it was re-
plied upon him that this epithet was understood in a
mythological and allegorical sense. However, he
objected again why their father should forbid them
f
When the papists cannot find anything which they want
in scripture they go to oral tradition.
The fire of purgatory; and praying for the dead is set
forth as linings.
• That is, to take care of hell-to subdue their lusts.
d Pomps and habits of temporal graudeur prohibited in the
gospel.
A prohibition of idolatry,
f Glosses and interpretations of scripture.
H 2
100
A TALE OF A TUB.
to wear a broomstick on their coats-a caution that
seemed unnatural and impertinent; upon which ne
was taken up short, as one that spoke irreverently
of a mystery, which doubtless was very useful and
significant, but ought not to be over-curiously pried
into or nicely reasoned upon. And, in short, their
father's authority being now considerably sunk,
this expedient was allowed to serve as a lawful dis-
pensation for wearing their full proportion of silver
fringe.
A while after was revived an old fashion, long an-
tiquated, of embroidery with Indian figures of men,
women, and children [images of saints]. Here they
remembered but too well how their father had always
abhorred this fashion; that he made several para-
graphs on purpose, importing his utter detestation
of it, and bestowing his everlasting curse to his sons
whenever they should wear it. For all this, in a few
days they appeared higher in the fashion than any-
body else in the town. But they solved the matter
by saying that these figures were not at all the same
with those that were formerly worn and were meant
in the will. Besides, they did not wear them in the
sense as forbidden by their father; but as they were
a commendable custom, and of great use to the
public. That these rigorous clauses in the will did
therefore require some allowance and a favourable
interpretation, and ought to be understood cum
grano salis.
But fashions perpetually altering in that age, the
scholastic brother grew weary of searching farther
evasions, and solving everlasting contradictions.
Resolved, therefore, at all hazards, to comply with
the modes of the world, they concerted matters to-
gether, and agreed unanimously to lock up their
father's will in a strong box, brought out of Greece
or Italy, I have forgotten which, and trouble them-
selves no farther to examine it, but only refer to its
authority whenever they thought fit. In consequence
whereof, a while after it grew a general mode to
wear an infinite number of points, most of them
tagged with silver: upon which the scholar pro-
nounced, ex cathedra,d that points were absolutely
jure paterno, as they might very well remember.
is true, indeed, the fashion prescribed somewhat
more than were directly named in the will; however,
that they, as heirs-general of their father, had power
to make and add certain clausese for public emolu-
ment, though not deducible, totidem verbis, from the
letter of the will, or else multa absurda sequerentur.
This was understood for canonical, and therefore, on
the following Sunday, they came to church all covered
with points.
It
A
The learned brother, so often mentioned, was
reckoned the best scholar in all that or the next
street to it, insomuch as, having run something
behindhand in the world, he obtained the favour of
a certain lord [Constantine the Great] to receive
him into his house, and to teach his children.
while after the lord died, and he, by long practice
upon his father's will, found the way of contriving a
deed of conveyance of that house to himself and his
heirs; upon which he took possession, turned the
young squires out, and received his brothers in their
stead.
a An excuse for the worship of images by the Church of
Rome.
The papists forbade the use of scripture in the vulgar tongue:
Peter locks up his father's will in a strong box, brought out of
Greece or Italy; because the new Testament is written in
Greek, and the vulgar Latin is in the language of old Italy.
• Rites of the church of Rome.
A
The popes in their decretals and bulls.
Alluding to the abu-e of power in the Roman church.
f The pope's challenge of temporal sovereignty.
SECTION THE THIRD.
A DIGRESSION CONCERNING CRITICS.
ALTHOUGH I have been hitherto as cautious as 1
could, upon all occasions, most nicely to follow the
rules and methods of writing laid down by the ex-
ample of our illustrious moderns; yet has the un-
happy shortness of my memory led me into an error
from which I must immediately extricate myself,
before I can decently pursue my principal subject.
I confess with shame it was an unpardonable omis-
sion to proceed so far as I have already done before
supplicatory, or deprecatory, with my good lords the
I had performed the due discourses, expostulatory,
Towards some atonement for this grievous
neglect, I do here make bold humbly to present
them with a short account of themselves and their
art, by looking into the original and pedigree of the
word, as it is generally understood among us; and
very briefly considering the ancient and present state
thereof.
critics.
By the word critic, at this day so frequent in all
conversations, there have sometimes been distin-
guished three very different species of mortal men,
according as I have read in ancient books and pam-
phlets. For first, by this term were understood such
persons as invented or drew up rules for themselves
and the world, by observing which a careful reader
might be able to pronounce upon the productions of
the learned, form his taste to a true relish of the
sublime and the admirable, and divide every beauty
of matter or of style from the corruption that apes
it in their common perusal of books singling out
the errors and defects, the nauseous, the fulsome,
the dull, and the impertinent, with the caution of a
man that walks through Edinburgh streets in a
morning, who is indeed as careful as he can to
watch diligently and spy out the filth in his way;
not that he is curious to observe the colour and
complexion of the ordure, or take its dimensions,
much less to be paddling in or tasting it; but only
with a design to come out as cleanly as he may.
These men seem, though very erroneously, to have
understood the appellation of critic in a literal sense;
that one principal part of his office was to praise and
acquit; and that a critic, who sets up to read only
for an occasion of censure and reproof is a creature
as barbarous as a judge who should take up a reso-
lution to hang all men that came before him upon a
trial.
Again, by the word critic have been meant the
restorers of ancient learning from the worms, and
graves, and dust of manuscripts.
Now the races of those two have been for some
ages utterly extinct; and besides, to discourse any
farther of them would not be at all to my purpose.
The third and noblest sort is that of the TRUE
CRITIC, whose original is the most ancient of all
Every true critic is a hero born, descending in a
bris, who begat Zoilus, who begat Tigellius, whe
direct line from a celestial stem by Momus aud Hy-
begat Etcætera the elder; who begat Bentley, and
Rymer, and Wotton, and Perrault, and Dennis; who
begat Etcætera the younger.
And these are the critics from whom the common-
wealth of learning has in all ages received such im-
mense benefits, that the gratitude of their admirers
placed their origin in Heaven, among those of Her-
cules, Theseus, Perseus, and other great deservers
of mankind. But heroic virtue itself has not been
exempt from the obloquy of evil tongues. For it
has been objected that those ancient heroes, famous
for their combating so many giants, and dragons, and
robbers, were in their own persons a greater nuisance
to mankind than any of those monsters they sub-
A TALE OF A TUB.
131
lued; and therefore, to render their obligations more
complete, when all other vermin were destroyed,
should, in conscience, have concluded with the same
justice upon themselves. As Hercules most gene-
rously did, and upon that score procured to himself
more temples and votaries than the best of his fel-
lows. For these reasons I suppose it is why some
have conceived it would be very expedient for the
public good of learning that every true critic, as soon
as he had finished his task assigned, should imme-
diately deliver himself up to ratsbane, or hemp, or
leap from some convenient altitude; and that no
man's pretensions to so illustrious a character should
by any means be received before that operation were
performed.
Now, from this heavenly descent of criticism, and
the close analogy it bears to heroic virtue, it is easy
to assign the proper employment of a true ancient
genuine critic; which is, to travel through this vast
world of writings; to pursue and hunt those mon-
strous faults bred within them; to drag out the
lurking errors, like Cacus from his den; to multiply
them like Hydra's heads; and rake them together
like Augeas's dung: or else drive away a sort of
dangerous fowl, who have a perverse inclination to
plunder the best branches of the tree of knowledge,
like those stymphalian birds that eat up the fruit.
These reasonings will furnish us with an adequate
definition of a true critic: that he is discoverer and
collector of writers' faults; which may be farther
put beyond dispute by the following demonstration;
that whoever will examine the writings in all kinds,
wherewith this ancient sect has honoured the world,
shall immediately fiud, from the whole thread and
tenor of them, that the ideas of the authors have
been altogether conversant and taken up with the
faults, and blemishes, and oversights, and mistakes
of other writers: and, let the subject treated on be
whatever it will, their imaginations are so entirely
possessed and replete with the defects of other pens,
that the very quintessence of what is bad does of
necessity distil into their own; by which means the
whole appears to be nothing else but an abstract of
the criticisms themselves have made.
Having thus briefly considered the original and
office of a critic, as the word is understood in its
most noble and universal acceptation, I proceed to
refute the objections of those who argue from the
silence and pretermission of authors; by which they
pretend to prove that the very art of criticism, as
now exercised, and by me explained, is wholly
modern; and consequently that the critics of Great
Britain and France hare no title to an original so
ancient and illustrious as I have deduced. Now,
if I can clearly make out, on the contrary, that the
ancient writers have particularly described both the
person and the office of a true critic, agreeably to the
definition laid down by me, their grand objection,
from the silence of authors, will fall to the ground.
I confess to have, for a long time, borne a part in
this general error: from which I should never have
acquitted myself, but through the assistance of our
noble moderns! whose most edifying volumes I turn
undefatigably over night and day for the improve-
ment of my mind and the good of my country :
these have, with unwearied pains, made many useful
searches into the weak sides of the ancients, and
given us a comprehensive list of them. Besides,
they have proved beyond contradiction that the very
finest things delivered of old have been long since
invented and brought to light by much later pens;
and that the noblest discoveries those ancients ever
* Ser Wotton of ancient and modern learning.-[Note by
the author.]
Which
made, of art or of nature, have all been produced by
the transcending genius of the present age.
clearly shows how little merit those ancients can
justly pretend to, and takes off that blind admira-
tion paid them by men in a corner who have the
unhappiness of conversing too little with present
things. Reflecting maturely upon all this, and
taking in the whole compass of human nature, I
easily concluded that these ancients, highly sensible
of their many imperfections, must needs have en-
deavoured, from some passages in their works, to
obviate, soften, or divert the censorious reader, by
satire or panegyric upon the true critics, in imita-
tion of their masters the moderns. Now, in the
commonplaces of both these I was plentifully in-
structed by a long course of useful study in prefaces
and prologues; and therefore immediately resolved
to try what I could discover of either by a diligent
perusal of the most ancient writers, and especially
those who treated of the earliest umes. Here I
found to my great surprise, that although they all
entered, upon occasion, into particular descriptions
of the true critic, according as they were governed
by their fears or their hopes, yet whatever they
touched of that kind was with abundance of caution,
adventuring no farther than mythology and hiero-
glyphic. This, I suppose, gave ground to superfi-
cial readers for urging the silence of authors against
the antiquity of the true critic, though the types are
so opposite, and the applications so necessary and
natural, that it is not easy to conceive how any
reader of a modern eye and taste could overlook
them. I shall venture from a great number to pro-
duce a few, which, I am very confident, will put this
question beyond dispute.
He
It well deserves considering that these ancient
writers, in treating enigmatically upon this subject,
have generally fixed upon the very same hieroglyph,
varying only the story, according to their affections
or their wit. For first; Pausanias is of opinion that
the perfection of writing correct was entirely owing
to the institution of critics; and that he can possibly
mean no other than the true critic is, I think, mani-
fest enough from the following description.
says, they were a race of men who delighted to nib-
ble at the superfluities and excrescencies of books,
which the learned at length observing, took warning,
of their own accord, to lop the luxuriant, the rotten,
the dead, the sapless, and the overgrown branches
from their works. But now all this he cunningly
shades under the following allegory; that the Nau-
plians in Argos learned the art of pruning their
vines, by observing, that when an ASS had browsed
upon one of them, it thrived the better and bore
fairer fruit. But Herodotus, holding the very same
hieroglyph, speaks much plainer, and almost in ter-
minis. He has been so bold as to tax the true
critics of ignorance and malice; telling us openly,
for I think nothing can be plainer, that in the
western part of Lybia there were ASSES with
horns: upon which relation Ctesias yet refines,
mentioning the very same animal about India, add-
ing that, whereas all other ASSES wanted a gall,
these horned ones were so redundant in that part,
that their flesh was not to be eaten, because of its
extreme bitterness.
Now, the reason why those ancient writers treated
this subject only by types and figures was, because
they durst not make open attacks against a party so
potent and so terrible as the critics of those ages
were; whose very voice was so dreadful that a
legion of authors would tremble and drop their
pens
at the sound; for so Herodotus tells us expressly in
another place, how a vast army of Seythians was pul
102
A TALE OF A TUB.
to flight in a panic terror by the braying of an ASS.
From hence it is conjectured by certain profound
philologers that the great awe and reverence paid to
a true critic by the writers of Britain have been de-
rived to us from those our Scythian ancestors.
In
short, this dread was so universal, that in process of
time those authors who had a mind to publish their
sentiments more freely, in describing the true critics.
of their several ages, were forced to leave off the use
of the former hieroglyph, as too nearly approaching
the prototype, and invented other terms instead
thereof, that were more cautious and mystical : so,
Diodorus, speaking to the same purpose, ventures no
farther than to say that in the mountains of Heli-
con there grows a certain weed which bears a
flower of so damned a scent as to poison those who
offer to smell to it. Lucretius gives exactly the
same relation:
Est etiam in magnis He'iconis montibus arbos,
Floris odore hominem tetro consueta necare.
Lib. 6.
But Ctesias, whom we lately quoted, has been
a great deal bolder; he had been used with much
severity by the true critics of his own age, and
therefore could not forbear to leave behind him at
least one deep mark of his vengeance against the
whole tribe. His meaning is so near the surface,
that I wonder how it possibly came to he overlooked
by those who deny the antiquity of the true critics.
For, pretending to make a description of many strange
animals about India, he has set down these re-
markable words: Among the rest says he, there is a
serpent that wants teeth, and consequently cannot.
bite; but if its vomit, to which it is much addicted,
happens to fall upon anything, a certain rottenness
or corruption ensues: these serpents are generally
found among the mountains where jewels grow, and
they frequently emit a poisonous juice: whereof
whoever drinks, that person's brains fly out of his
nostrils.
There was also among the ancients a sort of critics,
not distinguished in species from the former, but in
growth or degree, who seem to have been only the
tyros or junior scholars; yet, because of their differ-
ing employments, they are frequently mentioned as
a sect by themselves. The usual exercise of these
younger students was to attend constantly at theatres,
and learn to spy out the worst parts of the play,
whereof they were obliged carefully to take note,
and render a rational account to their tutors.
Fleshed at these smaller sports, like young wolves,
they grew up in time to be nimble and strong
enough for hunting down large game. For it has
been observed, both among ancients and moderns,
that a true critic has one quality in common with a
whore and an alderman, never to change his title or
his nature; that a gray critic has been certainly a
green one, the perfections and acquirements of his
age being only the improved talents of his youth;
like hemp, which some naturalists inform us is bad
for suffocations, though taken but in the seed.
esteem the invention, or at least the refinement of
prologues, to have been owing to these younger pro-
ficients, of whom Terence makes frequent and
honourable mention, under the name of malevoli.
I
Now, it is certain the institution of the true cri
tics was of absolute necessity to the commonwealth
of learning. For all human actions seem to be
divided, like Themistocles and his company; one
man can fiddle, and another can make a small town
a great city; and he that cannot do either one or the
other deserves to be kicked out of the creation.
• Near Helicon, and round the learned hill,
Grow trees whose blossoms with their odour kill
The avoiding of which penalty has doubtless given
the first birth to the nation of critics; and withal,
an occasion for their secret detractors to report that
a true critic is a sort of mechanic, set up with a
stock and tools for his trade at as little expense as a
tailor; and that there is much analogy between the
utensils and abilities of both that the tailor's hell
is the type of a critic's common place-book, and his
wit and learning held forth by the goose; that it
requires at least as many of these to the making up
of one scholar, as of the others to the composition of
a man; that the valour of both is equal, and their
weapons nearly of a size. Much may be said in
answer to those invidious reflections; and I can
positively affirm the first to be a falsehood: for, on
the contrary, nothing is more certain than that it
requires greater layings out to be free of the critic's
company than of any other you can name.
For as,
to be a true beggar, it will cost the richest candidate
every groat he is worth; so, before one can com-
mence a true critic, it will cost a man all the good
qualities of his mind; which, perhaps for a less pur-
chase, would be thought but an indifferent bar-
gain.
Having thus amply proved the antiquity of criti-
cism, and described the primitive state of it, I shall
now examine the present condition of this empire,
and show how well it agrees with its ancient self.
A certain author, whose works have many ages
since been entirely lost, does, in his fifth book and
eighth chapter, say of critics that their writings are
the mirrors of learning. This I understand in a
literal sense, and suppose our author must mean,
that whoever designs to be a perfect writer must in-
spect into the books of critics, and correct his in-
vention there, as in a mirror. Now, whoever con-
siders that the mirrors of the ancients were made
of brass, and sine mercurio, may presently apply the
two principal qualifications of a true modern critic,
and consequently must needs conclude that these
have always been, and must be for ever, the same.
For brass is an emblem of duration, and, when it is
skilfully burnished, will cast reflection from its own
superficies, without any assistance of mercury from
behind. All the other talents of a critic will not
require a particular mention, being included or
easily deducible to these. However, I shall con-
clude with three maxims, which may serve both as
characteristics to distinguish a true modern critic
from a pretender, and will be also of admirable use
to those worthy spirits who engage in so useful and
honourable an art.
The first is, that criticism, contrary to all other
faculties of the intellect, is ever held the truest and
best when it is the very first result of the critic's
mind; as fowlers reckon the first aim for the surest,
and seldom fail of missing the mark if they stay not
for a second. Secondly, the true critics are known
by their talent of swarming about the noblest writers,
to which they are carried merely by instinct, as a
rat to the best cheese, or as a wasp to the fairest
fruit. So when the king is on horseback, he is sure
to be the dirtiest person of the company; and they
that make their court best are such as bespatter him
most.
Lastly, a true critic, in the perusal of a book, is
like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach
are wholly set upon what the guests fling away, and
consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the
fewest bones.
Thus much, I think, is sufficient to serve by way
of address to my patrons, the true modern critics;
and may very well atone for my past silence, as well
as that which I am likely to observe for the future. I
A TALE OF A TUB.
103
hope I have deserved so well of their whole body as
to meet with generous and tender usage at their
hands. Supported by which expectation, I go on
boldly to pursue those adventures already so happily
begun.
SECTION THE FOURTH.
supper for three nights: as soon as he went to bed
he was carefully to lie on one side, and when he
grew weary to turn upon the other; he must also
duly confine his two eyes to the same object; and
by no means break wind at both ends together
without manifest occasion. These prescriptions
diligently observed, the worms would void insen
sibly by perspiration, ascending through the brain."
A third invention was the erecting of a whisper-
I HAVE now, with much pains and study, conducted
the reader to a period where he must expect to hearing-office for the public good and ease of all such
of great revolutions. For no sooner had our learned
brother, so often mentioned, got a warm house of
his own over his head than he began to look big and
to take mightily upon him; insomuch that unless the
gentle reader, out of his great candour, will please a
little to exalt his idea, I am afraid he will hence-
forth hardly know the hero of the play when he
happens to meet him; his part, his dress, and his
mien being so much altered.
He told his brothers he would have them to know
that he was their elder, and consequently his father's
a
sole heir; nay, a while after, he would not allow them
to call him brother, but Mr. PETER [the pope], and
then he must be styled Father PETER; and some-
times, My Lord PETER. To support this gran-
deur, which he soon began to consider could not
be maintained without a better fonde than what he
was born to, after much thought, he cast about at
last to turn projector and virtuoso, wherein he so
well succeeded, that many famous discoveries, pro-
jects, and machines, which bear great vogue and
practice at present in the world, are owing entirely
to lord PETER'S invention. I will deduce the
best account I have been able to collect of the chief
among them, without considering much the order
they came out in; because I think authors are not
well agreed as to that point.
I hope, when this treatise of mine shall be trans-
lated into foreign languages (as I may without
vanity affirm that the labour of collecting, the faith-
fulness in recounting, and the great usefulness of
the matter to the public, will amply deserve that
justice), that the worthy members of the several
academies abroad, especially those of France and
Italy, will favourably accept these humble offers
for the advancement of universal knowledge. I do
also advertise the most reverend fathers, the Eastern
missionaries, that I have, purely for their sakes,
made use of such words and phrases as will best
admit an easy turn into any of the oriental lan-
guages, especially the Chinese. And so I proceed
with great content of mind, upon reflecting how
much emolument this whole globe of the earth is
likely to reap by my labours.
The first undertaking of lord Peter was, to pur-
chase a large continent [purgatory], lately said to
have been discovered in terra australis incognita.
This tract of land he bought at a very great penny-
worth from the discoverers themselves (though some
pretended to doubt whether they had ever been
there), and then retailed it into several cantons to
certain dealers, who carried over colonies, but were
all shipwrecked in the voyage. Upon which lord
Peter sold the said continent to other customers
again, and again, and again, and again, with the
same success."
The second project I shall mention was his so-
vereign remedy for the worms, especially those in
the spleen. The patient was to eat nothing after
The pope's pretension to supremacy.
The imaginary p'ace between heaven and hell.
• Penance and absolution are played upou under the notion
☛a sovereign remedy.
as are hypochondriacal or troubled with the colic;
as likewise of all eavesdroppers, physicians, mid-
wives, small politicians, friends fallen out, repeating
poets, lovers happy or in despair, bawds, privy-
counsellors, pages, parasites, and buffoons; in short,
of all such as are in danger of bursting with too
much wind. An ass's head was placed so conve-
niently that the party affected might easily with his
mouth accost either of the animal's ears; to which
he was to apply close for a certain space, and by a
fugitive faculty, peculiar to the ears of that animal,
receive immediate benefit, either by eructation, or
expiration, or evomitation.
Another very beneficial project of lord Peter's
was, an office of insurance for tobacco-pipes [in-
dulgences], martyrs of the modern zeal, volumes of
poetry, shadows,
and rivers; that these, nor
Whence
any of these, shall receive damage by fire.
our friendly societies may plainly find themselves to
be only transcribers from this original; though the
one and the other have been of great benefit to the
undertakers, as well as of equal to the public.
Lord PETER was also held the original author
of puppets and raree-shows [ceremonies and pro-
cessions]; the great usefulness whereof being so
generally known, I shall not enlarge farther upon
this particular.
For,
But another discovery, for which he was much
renowned, was his famous universal pickle.
having remarked how your common pickle in use
among housewives was of no farther benefit than to
preserve dead flesh and certain kinds of vegetables,
Peter, with great cost as well as art, had contrived
a pickle proper for houses, gardens, towns, men,
women, children, and cattle; wherein he could
pre-
serve them as sound as insects in amber. Now,
this pickle, to the taste, the smell, and the sight, ap-
peared exactly the same with what is in common
service for beef, and butter, and herrings, and has
been often that way applied with great success; but,
for its many sovereign virtues, was a quite different
thing. For Peter would put in a certain quantity
of his powder pimperlimpimp, after which it never
failed of success. The operation was performed by
spargefaction [sprinkling], in a proper time of the
moon. The patient who was to be pickled, if it
spiders, rats, and weasels; if the party affected
were a house, would infallibly be preserved from all
were a dog, he should be exempt from mange,
and madness, and hunger. It also infallibly took
away all scabs, and lice, and scalled heads from
children, never hindering the patient from any duty,
either at bed or board.
But of all Peter's rarities he most valued a certain
set of bulls [papal], whose race was by great fortune
preserved in a lineal descent from those that guarded
a Here the author ridicules the penances of the church of
Rome.
The application of relics to physical cures.
• The author ridicules auricular confession; and the priest
who takes it is described by the ass's head.
d Holy water he calls a universal pickle.
* And because holy water differs only in consecration from
common water, he tells us that his pickle by the powder of
pimperlimpimp receives new virtues.
104
A TALE OF A TUB.
the golden fleece. Though some, who pretended to
observe them curiously, doubted the breed had not
been kept entirely chaste, because they had degene-
rated from their ancestors in some qualities, and had
acquired others very extraordinary, by a foreign
mixture. The bulls of Colchis are recorded to have
brazen feet; but whether it happened by ill pasture
and running, by an allay from intervention of other
parents, from stolen intrigues; whether a weakness
in their progenitors had impaired the seminal virtue,
or by a decline necessary through a long course of
time, the originals of nature being depraved in these
latter sinful ages of the world; whatever was the
cause, it is certain that lord Peter's bulls were ex-
tremely vitiated by the rust of time in the metal of
their feet, which was now sunk into common lead.a
However, the terrible roaring peculiar to their
lineage was preserved; as likewise that faculty of
breathing out fire from their nostrils, which, not-
withstanding many of their detractors took to be a
feat of art, to be nothing so terrible as it appeared,
proceeding only from their usual course of diet,
which was of squibs and crackers. [Fulminations
of the pope.] However, they had two peculiar
marks, which extremely distinguished them from
the bulls of Jason, and which I have not met toge
ther in the description of any other monster beside
that in Horace:
d
Varias inducere plumas:-and Atrum desinat in piscem.
For these had fishes' tails, yet upon occasion could
outfly any bird in the air. Peter put these bulls
upon several employs. Sometimes he would set
them a-roaring to fright naughty boys, and make
them quiet. Sometimes he would send them out upon
errands of great importance; where, it is wonderful
to recount (and perhaps the cautious reader may think
much to believe it), an appetitus sensibilis deriving
itself through the whole family from their noble an-
cestors, guardians of the golden fleece, they con-
tinued so extremely fond of gold, that if Peter sent.
them abroad, though it were only upon a compli-
ment, they would roar, and spit, and belch, and
piss, and fart, and snivel out firc, and keep a per-
petual coil, till you flung them a bit of gold; but
then, pulveris exigui jactu, they would grow calm
and quiet as lambs. In short, whether by secret
In short, whether by secret
connivance or encouragement from their master, or
out of their own liquorish affection to gold, or both,
it is certain they were no better than a sort of sturdy,
swaggering beggars; and where they could not pre-
vail to get an alms, would make women miscarry,
and children fall into fits, who to this very day
usually call sprights and hobgoblins by the name of
bull-beggars. They grew at last so very trouble-
some to the neighbourhood, that some gentlemen of
the north-west got a parcel of right English bull-
dogs, and baited them so terribly that they felt it
ever after.
I must needs mention one more of lord Peter's
projects, which was very extraordinary, and dis-
covered him to be master of a high reach and pro-
found invention. Whenever it happened that any
rogue of Newgate was condemned to be hanged,
Peter would offer him a pardon for a certain sum of
money; which when the poor caitiff had made all
a Alludes to the leaden seal at the bottom of the popish
bulls; for excommunications of heretical princes are all signed
with lead, and the seal of the fisherman, and therefore said to
have lenden feet and fishes' tails.
These passages, and many others, no doubt, must be con-
strued as antichristian by the church of Rome.
с
Alluding to the expression ub signo pi caturis.
d That is, kings who incurred hi, displeasure
Heretics or schismatics as the pope calls protestants.
shifts to scrape up and send. his lordship would
return a piece of paper in this form :ª
"To all mayors, sheriffs, jailors, constables, bai-
liffs, hangmen, &c. Whereas we are informed that
A.B. remains in the hands of you, or some of you.
under the sentence of death. We will and com-
mand you, upon sight hereof, to let the said prisoner
depart to his own habitation, whether he stands
condemned for murder, sodomy, rape, sacrilege,
incest, treason, blasphemy, &c., for which this shall
be your sufficient warrant; and if you fail hereof,
G— d-mn you and yours to all eternity. And so
we bid you heartily farewell. Your most humble
Emperor PETER.”
man's man,
The wretches, trusting to this, lost their lives and
money too.
I desire of those whom the learned among pos-
terity will appoint for commentators upon this ela-
borate treatise, that they will proceed with great
caution upon certain dark points, wherein all who
are not verè adepti may be in danger to form rash
and hasty conclusions, especially in some mysterious
paragraphs, where certain arcana are joined for
brevity sake, which in the operation must be divided.
And I am certain that future sons of art will return
large thanks to my memory for so grateful, so useful
an innuendo.
It will be no difficult part to persuade the reader
that so many worthy discoveries met with great suc-
cess in the world; though I may justly assure him
that I have related much the smallest number; my
design having been only to single out such as will
be of most benefit for public imitation, or which best
served to give some idea of the reach and wit of the
inventor. And therefore it need not be wondered
at if by this time lord Peter was become exceeding
rich but, alas! he had kept his brain so long and
so violently upon the rack, that at last it shook itself,
and began to turn round for a little ease. In short,
what with pride, projects, and kuavery, poor Peter was
grown distracted, and couceived the strangest ima-
ginations in the world. In the height of his fits, as
it is usual with those who run mad out of pride, he
would call himself God Almighty, and sometimes
monarch of the universe. I have seen him (says
my author) take three old high-crowned hats, and
clap them all on his head three story high, with a
huge bunch of keys at his girdle,d and an angling-
rod in his hand. In which guise, whoever went to
take him by the hand in the way of salutation, Peter
with much grace, like a well-educated spaniel, would
present them with his foot, and if they refused his
civility, then he would raise it as high as their chaps,
and give them a damned kick on the mouth, which
has ever since been called a salute. Whoever walked
ს
by without paying him their compliments, having a
wonderful strong breath, he would blow their hats
off into the dirt. Meantime his affairs at home went
upside down, and his two brothers had a wretched
time; where his first boutade" was to kick both
their wives one morning out of doors, and his own
too; and in their stead gave orders to pick up the first
three strollers that could be met with in the streets.
A while after he nailed up the cellar-door, and would
not allow his brothers a drop of drink to their vic-
tuals. Dining one day at an alderman's in the
This is a copy of a general pardon, signed sørvus servurum.
b The pope is not only allowed to be the vicar of Christ,
but by several divines is called God upou earth, and other
blasphemous titles.
The triple mitre or crown.
The keys of the church.
A sudden jerk, or lash of a horse.
f Allowed couenbines.
5 The pope's refusing the cup to the laity,
A TALE OF A TUR
105
city, Peter observed him expatiating, after the man-
ner of his brethren, in the praises of his sirloin of
beef. Beef," said the sage magistrate, "is the king
of meat; beef comprehends in it the quintessence of
partridge, and quail, and venison, and pheasant, and
plum-pudding, and custard." When Peter came
home he would needs take the fancy of cooking up
this doctrine into use, and apply the precept, in de-
fault of a sirloin, to his brown loaf.
"Bread," says
he,
"dear brothers, is the staff of life; in which bread
is contained, inclusive, the quintessence of beef,
mutton, veal, vension, partridge, plum-pudding,
and custard; and, to render all complete, there is
intermingled a due quantity of water, whose cru-
dities are also corrected by yeast or barm, through
which means it becomes a wholesome fermented
liquor, diffused through the mass of the bread."
Upon the strength of these conclusions, next day at
dinner was the brown loaf served up in all the for-
mality of a city feast. "Come, brothers," said Peter,
"fall to, and spare not; here is excellent good
mutton [Transubstantiation]; or hold, now my
hand is in, I will help you. At which word, in
much ceremony, with fork and knife, he carves out
two good slices of a loaf, and presents each on a
plate to his brothers. The elder of the two, not
suddenly entering into lord Peter's conceit, began
with very civil language to examine the mystery.
My lord," said he, "I doubt, with great submis-
sion, there may be some mistake." What," says
Peter, " you are pleasant; come then, let us hear
this jest your head is so big with."-" None in the
world, my lord; but, unless I am very much de-
ceived, your lordship was pleased a while ago to let
fall a word about mutton, and I would be glad to
see it with all my heart."-" How," said Peter, ap-
pearing in great surprise, "I do not comprehend
this at all." Upon which the younger interposing
to set the business aright, " My lord," said he, "my
brother, I suppose, is hungry, and longs for the
mutton your lordship has promised us to dinner.'
|
|
brethren, much delighted to see him so readily ap-
peased, returned their most humble thanks, and said
they would be glad to pledge his lordship.
"That
you shall," said Peter; "I am not a person to re-
fuse you anything that is reasonable: wine, mode-
rately taken, is a cordial; here is a glass a-piece for
you; it is true natural juice from the grape, none
of your damned vintner's brewings." Having spoke
thus, he presented to each of them another large
dry crust, bidding them drink it off, and not be
bashful, for it would do them no hurt. The two
brothers, after having performed the usual office in
such delicate conjunctures, of staring a sufficient period
at lord Peter and each other, and finding how mat-
ters were likely to go, resolved not to enter on a
new dispute, but let him carry the point as he
pleased; for he was now got into one of his mad fits,
and to argue or expostulate farther would only serve
to render him a hundred times more untractable.
I have chosen to relate this worthy matter in all
its circumstances, because it gave a principal occa-
sion to that great and famous rupture [the Reform-
ation] which happened about the same time among
these brethren, and was never afterwards made
up. But of that I shall treat at large in another
section.
However, it is certain that lord Peter, even in
his lucid intervals, was very lewdly given in his
common conversation, extremely wilful and positive.
and would at any time rather argue to the death
than allow himself once to be in an error. Besides,
he had an abominable faculty of telling huge palpable
lies upon all occasions; and not only swearing to
the truth, but cursing the whole company to hell if
they pretended to make the least scruple of believing
him. One time he swore he had a cow at home
which gave as much milk at a meal as would fill
three thousand churches; and, what was yet more
extraordinary, would never turn sour. Another time
he was telling of an old sign-post, that belonged to
his father, with nails and timber enough in it to
build sixteen large men of war. Talking one day
of Chinese waggons, which were made so light as to
sail over mountains, "Z-ds," said Peter, "where's
the wonder of that? By G—, I saw a large house
of lime and stone travel over sea and land (grant-
thousand German leagues." And that which was
the good of it, he would swear desperately all the
while that he never told a lie in his life; and at
every word," By G-, gentlemen, I tell you no-
thing but the truth; and the d-1 broil them eter-
Pray," said Peter, "take me along with you;
either you are both mad, or disposed to be merrier
than I approve of; if you there do not like your
piece I will carve you another; though I should
take that to be the choice bit of the whole shoulder."
"What then, my lord," replied the first, "iting that it stopped sometimes to bait) above twe
seems this is a shoulder of mutton all this while ?"
"Pray, sir," says Peter, "eat your victuals, and
leave off your impertinence, if you please, for I am
not disposed to relish it at present:" but the other
could not forbear, being over-provoked at the af-
fected seriousness of Peter's countenance: "Bynally that will not believe me."
G-, my lord," said he, "I can only say, that to
my eyes, and fingers, and teeth, and nose, it seems
to be nothing but a crust of bread." Upon which
the second put in his word: "I never saw a piece
of mutton in my life so nearly resembling a slice
from a twelvepenny loaf."- "Look ye, gentlemen,"
crics Peter, in a rage; " to convince you what a
couple of blind, positive, ignorant, wilful puppies
you are, I will use but this plain argument: by G―,
it is true, good, natural mutton as any in Leadenhall-
market; and G- confound you both eternally if
you offer to believe otherwise." Such a thundering
proof as this left no farther room for objection; the
two unbelievers began to gather and pocket up their
mistake as hastily as they could. Why, truly,"
said the first, "upon more mature consideration-"
"Ay," says the other, interrupting him, "
now I
have thought better on the thing, your lordship seems
to have a great deal of reason."-"
-" Very well,” said
Peter; "here, boy, fill me a beer-glass of claret;
here's to you both with all my heart." The two
،،
In short, Peter grew so scandalous, that all the
neighbourhood began in plain words to say he was
no better than a knave. And his two brothers,
long weary of his ill usage, resolved at last to leave
him; but first they humbly desired a copy of their
father's will, which had now lain by neglected time
out of mind. Instead of granting this request he
called them damned sons of whores, rogues, traitors,
and the rest of the vile names he could muster up.
However, while he was abroad one day upon his
projects, the two youngsters watched their oppor-
tunity, made a shift to come at the will, and took a
copia vera [translation of the scriptures], by which
they presently saw how grossly they had been
abused; their father having left them equal heirs,
and strictly commanded that whatever they got
• The ridiculous multiplying of the Virgin Mary's milk
among the papists.
b By the sign post is meant the cross of our blessed Saviour.
• The chapel of Loretto, which they tell us travelled from
the Holy Land to Italy.
106
A TALE OF A TUB.
should lie in common among them all. Pursuant
to which their next enterprise was to break open
the cellar-door, and get a little good drink,a to spirit
and comfort their hearts. In copying the will they
had met another precept against whoring, divorce,
and separate maintenance; upon which their next
work was to discard their concubines, and send for
their wives." While all this was in agitation there
enters a solicitor from Newgate, desiring lord Peter
would please procure a pardon for a thief that was
to be hanged to-morrow.c But the two brothers
told him he was a coxcomb to seek pardons from a
fellow who deserved to be hanged much better than
his client; and discovered all the method of that
imposture in the same form I delivered it a while
ago, advising the solicitor to put his friend upon ob-
taining a pardon from the king. In the midst of
all this clutter and revolution, in comes Peter with
a file of dragoons at his heels, and gathering from
all hands what was in the wind, he and his gang,
after several millions of scurrilities and curses, not
very important here to repeat, by main force very
fairly kicked them both out of doors [out of the
church], and would never let them come under his
roof from that day to this.
SECTION THE FIFTH.
A DIGRESSION IN THE MODERN KIND.
WE, whom the world is pleased to honour with the
title of modern authors, should never have been able
to compass our great design of an everlasting re-
membrance and never-dying fame, if our endeavours
had not been so highly serviceable to the general
good of mankind. This, O universe! is the adven-
turous attempt of me thy secretary;
Quemvis perferre laborem
Suadet, et inducit noctes vigilare serenas.
To this end I have some time since, with a world
of pains and art, dissected the carcase of human
nature, and read many useful lectures upon the
several parts, both containing and contained: till at
last it smelt so strong I could preserve it no longer.
Upon which I have been at a great expense to fit
up all the bones with exact contexture and in due
symmetry; so that I am ready to show a very com-
plete anatomy thereof to all curious gentlemen and
others. But not to digress farther in the midst of a
digression, as I have known some authors enclose
digressions in one another like a nest of boxes, I
do affirm that, having carefully cut up human nature,
I have found a very strange, new, and important
discovery, that the public good of mankind is per-
formed by two ways, instruction and diversion. And
I have father proved, in my said several readings
(which perhaps the world may one day see, if I can
prevail on any friend to steal a copy, or on certain
gentlemen of my admirers to be very importunate),
that as mankind is now disposed, he receives much
greater advantage by being diverted than instructed;
his epidemical diseases being fastidiosity, amorphy,
and oscitation; whereas in the present universal
empire of wit and learning, there seems but little
matter left for instruction. However, in compliance
with a lesson of great age and authority, I have at-
tempted carrying the point in all its heights; and
accordingly, throughout this divine treatise, have
B
Administered the cup to the laity.
b Allowed marriages of priests.
• Beginning of the Reformation.
d Directed penitents not to trust to pardons and absolutions.
• By Peter's dragoons is meant the civil power.
|
|
|
skilfully kneaded up both together, with a layer of
utile and a layer of dulce.
When I consider how exceedingly our illustrious
moderns have eclipsed the weak glimmering lights
of the ancients, and turned them out of the road of
all fashionable commerce, to a degree that our choice
town wits, of most refined accomplishments, are in
grave dispute whether there have been ever any
ancients or not; in which point we are likely to re-
ceive wonderful satisfaction from the most useful
labours and lucubrations of that worthy modern,
Dr. Bentley I say, when I consider all this, I can-
not but bewail that no famous modern has ever yet
attempted a universal system, in a small portable
volume, of all things that are to be known, or be-
lieved, or imagined, or practised in life.
I am,
however, forced to acknowledge, that such an en-
terprise was thought on some time ago by a great
philosopher of O. Brazile. The method he pro-
posed was, by a certain curious receipt, a nostrum,
which, after his untimely death, I found among his
papers; and do here, out of my great affection to
the modern learned, present them with it, not doubt-
ing it may one day encourage some worthy undertaker.
You take fair correct copies, well bound in calf-
skin and lettered at the back, of all modern bodies
of arts and sciences whatsoever, and in what lan-
guage you please. These you distil in balneo
Maria, infusing quintessence of poppy Q. S., toge-
ther with three pints of Lethe, to be had from the
apothecaries. You cleanse away carefully the sor-
des and caput mortuum, letting all that is volatile
evaporate. You preserve only the first running,
which is again to be distilled seventeen times, till
what remains will amount to about two drams.
This you keep in a glass phial, hermetically sealed,
for one-and-twenty days. Then you begin your
catholic treatise, taking every morning fasting, first
shaking the phial, three drops of this elixir, sunfling
it strongly up your nose. It will dilate itself about
the brain (where there is any) in fourteen minutes,
and you immediately perceive in your head an
infinite number of abstracts, summaries, compen-
diums, extracts, collections, medullas, excerpta quæ-
dams, florilegias, and the like, all disposed into
great order, and reducible upon paper.
I must needs own it was by the assistance of this
arcanum that I, though otherwise impar, have ad-
ventured upon so daring an attempt, never achieved
or undertaken before, but by a certain author called
Homer; in whom, though otherwise a person not
without some abilities, and, for an ancient, of a tole-
rable genius, I have discovered many gross errors
which are not to be forgiven his very ashes, if by
chance any of them are left.
For whereas we are
assured he designed his work for a complete body of
all knowledge,
all knowledge, human, divine, political, and me-
chanic, it is manifest he has wholly neglected some,
and been very imperfect in the rest. For first of
all, as eminent a cabalist as his disciples would re-
present him, his account of the opus magnum is
extremely poor and deficient; he seems to have
read but very superficially either Sendivogus, Beh-
men, or Anthroposophia Theomagica. He is also
quite mistaken about the sphæra pyroplastica, a ne-
glect not to be atoned for; and if the reader will
admit so severe a censure, vix crederem autorem
hunc unquam audivisse ignis vocem. His failings
are not less prominent in several parts of the me-
b
An imaginary island, supposed to be seen at intervals by
the inhabitants of the isle of Arran; and, like the Painters'
Wives' Island, placed in some unknown part of the ocean.
b A treat.se written by a Welsh gentleman of Cambridge
mere rant.
A TALE OF A TUB.
107
that whatever I have said upon this occasion had
been more proper in a preface, and more agreeable
to the mode which usually directs it thither. But I
here think fit to lay hold on that great and honour-
able privilege of being the last writer; I claim an
absolute authority in right, as the freshest modern,
which gives me a despotic power over all authors
before me. In the strength of which title I do
utterly disapprove and declare against that perni-
chanics. For, having read his writings with the
utmost application usual among modern wits, I
could never yet discover the least direction about
the structure of that useful instrument, a save-all;
for want of which, if the moderns had not lent
their assistance, we might yet have wandered in the
dark. But I have still behind a fault far more no-
torious to tax this author with; I mean his gross
ignorance in the common laws of this realm, and in
the doctrine as well as discipline of the church of|cious custom of making the preface a bill of fare to
England. A defect indeed, for which both he and
all the ancients stand most justly censured by my
worthy and ingenious friend Mr. Wotton, Bachelor
of Divinity, in his incomparable Treatise of Ancient
and Modern Learning: a book never to be suffi-
ciently valued, whether we consider the happy turns
and flowings of the author's wit, the great usefulness
of his sublime discoveries upon the subject of flies
and spittle, or the laborious eloquence of his style.
And I cannot forbear doing that author the justice
of my public acknowledgments for the great helps
and liftings I had out of his incomparable piece,
while I was penning this treatise.
But beside these omissions in Homer already
mentioned, the curious reader will also observe
several defects in that author's writings, for which
he is not altogether so accountable. For whereas
every branch of knowledge has received such won-
derful acquirements since his age, especially within
these last three years, or thereabouts, it is almost
impossible he could be so very perfect in modern
discoveries as his advocates pretend. We freely
acknowledge him to be the inventor of the compass,
of gunpowder, and the circulation of the blood but
1 challenge any of his admirers to show me in all
his writings a complete account of the spleen;
does he not also leave us wholly to seek in the art
of political wagering? What can be more defective
and unsatisfactory than his long dissertation upon
tea? And as to his method of salivation without
mercury so much celebrated of late, it is, to my own
knowledge and experience, a thing very little to be
relied on.
It was to supply such momentous defects that I
have been prevailed on, after long solicitation, to
take pen in hand; and I dare venture to promise,
the judicious reader shall find nothing neglected
here that can be of use upon any emergency of life.
I am confident to have included and exhausted all
that human imagination can rise or fall to. Parti-
cularly, I recommend to the perusal of the learned
certain discoveries that are wholly untouched by
others; whereof I shall only mention, among a great
many more, my new help for smatterers, or the art
of being deep-learned and shallow-read. A curious
invention about mouse-traps. A universal rule of
reason, or every man his own carver; together with
a most useful engine for catching of owls.
which, the judicious reader will find largely treated
on in the several parts of this discourse.
All
I hold myself obliged to give as much light as is
possible into the beauties and excellencies of what I
am writing; because it is become the fashion and
humour most applauded among the first authors of
this polite and learned age, when they would correct
the ill-nature of critical, or inform the ignorance of
courteous readers. Besides, there have been several
famous pieces lately published, both in verse and
prose, wherein, if the writers had not been pleased,
out of their great humanity and affection to the
public, to give us a nice detail of the sublime and
the admirable they contain, it is a thousand to one
whether we should ever have discovered one grain
of either. For my own particular, I cannot deny
the book. For I have always looked upon it as a
high point of indiscretion in monster-mongers,
and other retailers of strange sights, to hang out a
fair large picture over the door, drawn after the life,
with a most eloquent description underneath this
has saved me many a three-pence; for my curiosity
was fully satisfied, and I never offered to go in,
though often invited by the urging and attending
orator, with his last moving and standing piece of
rhetoric:-Sir, upon my word we are just going to
begin. Such is exactly the fate at this time of pre-
faces, epistles, advertisements, introductions, prole-
gomenas, apparatuses, to the readers. This expe-
dient was admirable at first; our great Dryden has
long carried it as far as it would go, and with
incredible success. He has often said to me in
confidence, that the world would have never sus-
pected him to be so great a poet, if he had not
assured them so frequently in his prefaces that it
was impossible they could either doubt or forget it.
Perhaps it may be so; however, I much fear his
instructions have edified out of their place, and
taught men to grow wiser in certain points where
he never intended they should; for it is lamentable
to behold with what a lazy scorn many of the yawn-
ing readers of our age do now-a-days twirl over
forty or fifty pages of preface and dedication, (which
is the usual modern stint,) as if it were so much
Latin. Though it must be also allowed, on the
other hand, that a very considerable number is
known to proceed critics and wits by reading no-
thing else. Into which two factions I think all
present readers may justly be divided. Now, for
myself, I profess to be of the former sort; and there-
fore, having the modern inclination to expatiate
upon the beauty of my own productions, and dis-
play the bright parts of my discourse, I thought best
to do it in the body of the work; where, as it now
lies, it makes a very considerable addition to the
bulk of the volume; a circumstance by no means to
be neglected by a skilful writer.
Having thus paid my due deference and acknow-
ledgment to an established custom of our newest
authors, by a long digression unsought for, and a
universal censure unprovoked; by forcing into the
light, with much pains and dexterity, my own ex-
cellencies and other men's defaults, with great jus-
tice to myself and candour to them, I now happily
resume my subject, to the infinite satisfaction both
of the reader and the author.
SECTION THE SIXTH.
WE left lord Peter in open rupture with his two
brethren; both for ever discarded from his house,
and resigned to the wide world, with little or nothing
to trust to. Which are circumstances that render
them proper subjects for the charity of a writer's
pen to work on; scenes of misery ever affording the
fairest harvest for great adventures. And in this the
world may perceive the difference between the in-
tegrity of a generous author and that of a common
friend. The latter is observed to adhere closely in
prosperity, but on the decline of fortune to drop
108
A TALE OF A TUB.
suddenly off Whereas the generous author, just on
the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from
thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and
then immediately withdraws, expecting not so much
as thanks for his pains; in imitation of which ex-
ample, I have placed lord Peter in a noble house,
given him a title to wear and money to spend.
There I shall leave him for some time; returning
where common charity directs me, to the assistance
of his two brothers at their lowest ebb. However, I
shall by no means forget my character of an histo-
rian to follow the truth step by step, whatever hap-
pens, or wherever it may lead me.
The two exiles, so nearly united in fortune and
interest, took a lodging together; where, at their
first leisure, they began to reflect on the numberless
misfortunes and vexations of their life past, and
could not tell on the sudden to what failure in their
conduct they ought to impute them; when, after
some recollection, they called to mind the copy of
their father's will, which they had so happily reco-
vered. This was immediately produced, and a firm
resolution taken between them to alter whatever
was already amiss, and reduce all their future mea-
sures to the strictest obedience prescribed therein.
The main body of the will (as the reader cannot
easily have forgot) consisted in certain admirable
rules about the wearing of their coats; in the
perusal whereof, the two brothers at every period.
duly comparing the doctrine with the practice, there
was never seen a wider difference between two
things; horrible downright transgressions of every
point. Upon which they both resolved, without
farther delay, to fall immediately upon reducing the
whole exactly after their father's model.
But here it is good to stop the hasty reader, ever
impatient to see the end of an adventure before we
writers can duly prepare him for it. I am to record
that these two brothers began to be distinguished at
this time by certain names. One of them desired to
be called MARTIN [Martin Luther], and the
other took the appellation of JACK [John Calvin].
These two had lived in much friendship and agree-
ment under the tyranny of their brother Peter, as
it is the talent of fellow-sufferers to do; men in mis-
fortune being like men in the dark, to whom all
colours are the same: but when they came forward
into the world, and began to display themselves to
each other and to the light, their complexions ap-
peared extremely different; which the present pos-
ture of their affairs gave them sudden opportunity to
discover.
lace, and ribbons, and fringe, and embroidery, and
points; I mean only those tagged with silver, for
the rest fell off. Now this material circumstance,
having been forgot in due place, as good fortune has
ordered, comes in very properly here when the two
brothers are just going to reform their vestures into
the primitive state prescribed by their father's
will.
They both unanimously entered upon this great
work, looking sometimes on their coats; and some-
times on the will. Martin laid the first hand; at
one twitch brought off a large handful of points; and,
with a second pull, stripped away ten dozen yards
of fringe. But when he had gone thus far he de-
murred a while: he knew very well there yet re-
mained a great deal more to be done; however, the
first heat being over, his violence began to cool, and
he resolved to proceed more moderately in the rest
of the work, having already narrowly escaped a
swinging rent, in pulling off the points, which,
being tagged with silver (as we have observed be-
fore), the judicious workman had, with much saga-
city, double sewn, to preserve them from falling.c
Resolving therefore to rid his coat of a huge quan-
tity of gold-lace, he picked up the stitches with
much caution, and diligently gleaned out all the
loose threads as he went, which proved to be a
work of time. Then he fell about the embroidered
Indian figures of men, women, and children; against
which, as you have heard in its due place, their
father's testament was extremely exact and severe;
these, with much dexterity and application, were
after a while, quite eradicated or utterly defaced.
For the rest, where he observed the embroidery to
be worked so close as not to be got away without
damaging the cloth, or where it served to hide or
strengthen any flaw in the body of the coat, con-
tracted by the perpetual tampering of workmen
upon it, he concluded the wisest course was to let
it remain, resolving in no case whatsoever that the
substance of the stuff should suffer injury; which he
thought the best method for serving the true inteut
and meaning of his father's will. And this is the
nearest account I have been able to collect of Mar-
tin's proceedings upon this great revolution.
But his brother Jack, whose adventures will be so
extraordinary as to furnish a great part in the re-
mainder of this discourse, entered upon the matter
with other thoughts and a quite different spirit.
For the memory of lord Peter's injuries produced a
degree of hatred and spite which had a much
greater share of inciting him than any regards after
But here the severe reader may justly tax me as a his father's commands; since these appeared, at
writer of short memory, a deficiency to which a true best, only secondary and subservient to the other.
modern cannot but of necessity be a little subject. However, for this medley of humour he made a
Because memory, being an employment of the shift to find a very plausible name, honouring it
mind upon things past, is a faculty for which the with the title of zeal; which is perhaps the most
fearned in our illustrious age have no manner of significant word that has been ever yet produced in
occasion, who deal entirely with invention, and any language: as I think I have fully proved in my
strike all things out of themselves, or at least by excellent analytical discourse upon that subject;
collision from each other: upon which account we wherein I have deduced a histori-theo-physi-logical
think it highly reasonable to produce our great for- account of zeal, showing how it first proceeded from
getfulness as an argument unanswerable for our a notion into a word, and thence, in a hot summer,
great wit. I ought in method to have informed the ripened into a tangible substance. This work, con.
reader, about fifty pages ago, of a fancy lord Petertaining three large volumes in folio, I design very
took, and infused into his brothers, to wear on their
coats whatever trimmings came up in fashion;ation, not doubting but the nobility and gentry of
never pulling off any as they went out of the mode,
but keeping on all together, which amounted in
time to a medley the most antic you can possibly
conceive; and this to a degree, that upon the time.
of their falling out there was hardly a thread of the
original coat to be seen: but an infinite quantity of
The Romish coromonics multiplied.
shortly to publish by the modern way of subscrip-
the land will give me all possible encouragement ;
• Points tagged with silver are doctrines that promote the
greatness and wealth of the church.
Alluding to the commencement of the Reformation.
• The dissolution of the monasteries occasioned insurrections
during the reign of Edward VI.
The abolition of the worship of saints.
A TALE OF A TUB.
109
having had already such a taste of what I am able to
perform.
I record, therefore, that brother Jack, brimful of
this miraculous compound, reflecting with indigna-
tion upon Peter's tyranny, and, farther provoked by
the despondency of Martin, prefaced his resolutions to
this purpose.
What," said he, "a rogue that locked
up his drink, turned away our wives, cheated us of
our fortunes; palmed his damned crusts upon us
for mutton; and at last kicked us out of doors;
must we be in his fashions, with a pox! a rascal, be-
sides, that all the street cries out against." Having
thus kindled and inflamed himself as high as possi-
ble, and by consequence in a delicate temper for
beginning a reformation, he set about the work im-
mediately; and in three minutes made more de-
spatch than Martin had done in as many hours.
For, courteous reader, you are given to understand
that zeal is never so highly obliged as when you set
it a-tearing; and Jack, who doted on that quality
in himself, allowed it at this time its full swing.
Thus it happened that, stripping down a parcel of
gold lace a little too hastily, he rent the main body
of his coat from top to bottom; and whereas his
talent was not of the happiest in taking up a stitch,
he knew no better way than to darn it again with
packthread and a skewer. But the matter was yet
infinitely worse (I record it with tears) when he
proceeded to the embroidery: for, being clumsy by
nature, and of temper impatient; withal, beholding
millions of stitches that required the nicest hand and
sedatest constitution to extricate; in a great rage
he
tore off the whole piece, cloth and all, and flung it
into the kennel, and furiously thus continued his
career: "Ah, good brother Martin," said he, "do as
I do, for the love of God; strip, tear, pull, rend, flay
off all, that we may appear as unlike that rogue
Peter as it is possible; I would not for a hundred
pounds carry the least mark about me that might
give occasion to the neighbours of suspecting that I
was related to such a rascal.” But Martin, who at
this time happened to be extremely phlegmatic and
sedate, begged his brother, of all love, not to damage
his coat by any means; for he never would get such
another desired him to consider that it was not
their business to form their actions by any reflection
upon Peter, but by observing the rules prescribed
in their father's will. That he should remember
Peter was still their brother, whatever faults or in-
juries he had committed; and therefore they should
by all means avoid such a thought as that of taking
measures for good and evil from no other rule than
of opposition to him. That it was true, the testa-
ment of their good father was very exact in what
related to the wearing of their coats: yet it was no
less penal and strict in prescribing agreement, and
friendship, and affection between them. And there-
fore, if straining a point were at all dispensible, it
would certainly be so rather to the advance of
unity than increase of contradiction.
MARTIN had still proceeded as gravely as he
began, and doubtless would have delivered an ad-
mirable lecture of morality, which might have ex-
ceedingly contributed to my reader's repose both
of body and mind, the true ultimate end of ethics;
but Jack was already gone a flight-shot beyond his
patience. And as in scholastic disputes nothing
serves to rouse the spleen of him that opposes so
much as a kind of pedantic affected calmness in the
respondent; disputants being for the most part like
unequal scales, where the gravity of one side ad-
vances the lightness of the other, and causes it to fly
up and kick the beam: so it happened here that the
weight of Martin's argument exalted Jack's levity,
|
and made him fly out, and spurn against his brother's
moderation. In short, Martin's patience put Jack
in a rage; but that which most afflicted him was,
to observe his brother's coat so well reduced into the
state of innocence; while his own was either wholly
rent to his shirt, or those places which had escaped
his cruel clutches were still in Peter's livery. So
that he looked like a drunken beau, half rifled by bul-
lies; or like a fresh tenant of Newgate, when he has
refused the payment of garnish; or like a discovered
shoplifter, left to the mercy of Exchange women ;³
or like a bawd in her old velvet petticoat, resigned
into the secular hands of the mobile.
Like any, or
b
like all of these, a medley of rags, and lace, and
rents, and fringes, unfortunate Jack did now ap-
pear: he would have been extremely glad to see his
coat in the condition of Martin's, but infinitely
gladder to find that of Martin in the same predicament
with his. However, since neither of these was
likely to come to pass, he thought fit to lend the
whole business another turn, and to dress up neces-
sity into a virtue. Therefore, after as many of the
fox's arguments as he could muster up, for bringing
Martin to reason, as he called it; or, as he meant it,
into his own ragged, bobtailed condition; and ob-
serving he said all to little purpose; what, alas! was
left for the forlorn Jack to do, but, after a million of
scurrilities against his brother, to run mad with
spleen, and spite, and contradiction. To be short,
here began a mortal breach between these two.
Jack went immediately to new lodgings, and in a
few days it was for certain reported that he had run
out of his wits. In a short time after he appeared
abroad, and confirmed the report by falling into the
oddest whimseys that ever a sick brain conceived.
And now the little boys in the streets began to
salute him with several names. Sometimes they
would call him Jack the bald [Calvin]; sometimes,
Jack with a lantern; sometimes, Dutch Jack;d
sometimes, French Hugh [Hugonots]; sometimes,
Tom the beggar; and sometimes, Kuocking Jack of
the north [John Knox]. And it was under one, or
some, or all of these appellations, which I leave the
learned reader to determine, that he has given rise
to the most illustrious and epidemic sect of Eolists;
who, with honourable commemoration, do still ac-
knowledge the renowned JACK for their author
and founder. Of whose original, as well as princi-
ples, I am now advancing to gratify the world with
a very particular account.
-Melleo contingens cuncta lepore.
SECTION THE SEVENTH.
A DIGRESSION IN PRAISE OF DIGRESSIONS.
I HAVE Sometimes heard of an Iliad in a nutshell;
but it has been my fortune to have much oftener
seen a nut-shell in an Iliad. There is no doubt that
human life has received most wonderful advantages
from both; but to which of the two the world is
chiefly indebted I shall leave among the curious as
a problem worthy of their utmost inquiry. For the
invention of the latter I think the commonwealth of
learning is chiefly obliged to the great modern im-
provement of digressions: the late refinements in
knowledge running parallel to those of diet in
a The galleries over the piazzas in the late Royal Exchange
were filled with shops, kept chiefly by women, in the manner
of the Exeter Change in the Strand, which is no more to be
seen, but, in its place, Exeter Hall.
The fox in the table, who, caught in a trap, lost his tail,
and used arguments to persuade the rest to cut off theirs.
All who pretend to inward light.
d Jack of Leyden, who gave rise to the anabaptists.
• The Gueuses, by which name some protestants in Flanders
were called.
1
A
1
110
A TALE OF A TUB.
our nation, which, among men of a judicious taste,
are dressed up in various compounds, consisting in
soups and olios, fricassees and ragouts.
It is true, there is a sort of morose, detracting,
ill-bred people, who pretend utterly to disrelish
these polite innovations; and as to the similitude
from diet, they allow the parallel, but are so bold to
pronounce the example itself a corruption and de-
generacy of taste. They tell us that the fashion of
jumbling fifty things together in a dish was at first in-
troduced, in compliance to a depraved and debauched
appetite, as well as to a crazy constitution: and to
see a man hunting through an olio, after the head
and brains of a goose, a widgeon, or a woodcock, is
a sign he wants a stomach and digestion for more
substantial victuals. Farther, they affirm that digres-
sions in a book are like foreign troops in a state,
which argue the nation to want a heart and hands
of its own, and often either subdue the natives, or
drive them into the most unfruitful corners.
But, after all that can be objected by these super-
cilious censors, it is manifest the society of writers
would quickly be reduced to a very inconsiderable
number if men were put upon making books with
the fatal confinement of delivering nothing beyond
what is to the purpose. It is acknowledged, that were
the case the same among us as with the Greeks and
Romans, when learning was in its cradle, to be reared
and fed, and clothed by invention, it would be an
easy task to fill up volumes upon particular occasions,
without farther expatiating from the subjects than
by moderate excursions, helping to advance or clear
the main design. But with knowledge it has fared
as with a numerous army, encamped in a fruitful
country, which, for a few days, maintains itself by
the product of the soil it is on; till provisions being
spent, they are sent to forage many a mile, among
friends or enemies, it matters not. Meanwhile, the
neighbouring fields, trampled and beaten down,
become barren and dry, affording no sustenance but
clouds of dust.
The whole course of things being thus entirely
changed between us and the ancients, and the
moderns wisely sensible of it, we of this age have
discovered a shorter and more prudent method to
become scholars and wits, without the fatigue of read-
ing or of thinking. The most accomplished way
of using books at present is two-fold; either, first, to
serve them as some men do lords, learn their titles
exactly, and then brag of their acquaintance. Or,
secondly, which is indeed the choicer, the profounder,
and politer method, to get a thorough insight into
the index, by which the whole book is governed and
turned, like fishes by the tail. For to enter the
palace of learning at the great gate requires an ex-
pense of time and forms; therefore men of much
haste and little ceremony are content to get in by
the back door. For the arts are all in flying march,
and therefore more easily subdued by attacking them
in the rear. Thus physicians discover the state of
the whole body by consulting only what comes from
behind. Thus men catch knowledge by throwing
their wit into the posteriors of a book, as boys do
sparrows with flinging salt upon their tails. Thus
human life is best understood by the wise man's
rule of regarding the end. Thus are the sciences
found, like Hercules's oxen, by tracing them back-
wards. Thus are old sciences unravelled, like old
stockings, by beginning at the foot. Beside all this,
the army of the sciences has been of late, with a
world of martial discipline, drawn into its close
order, so that a view or a muster may be taken of it
with abundance of expedition. For this great bless-
ing we are wholly indebted to systems and abstracts,
in which the modern fathers of learning, like pra
dent usurers, spent their sweat for the ease of us
their children. For labour is the seed of idleness,
and it is the peculiar happiness of our noble age to
gather the fruit.
Now, the method of growing wise, learned, and
sublime, having become so regular aħ affair, and so
established in all its forms, the number of writers
must needs have increased accordingly, and to a
pitch that has made it of absolute necessity for them
to intefere continually with each other. Besides,
it is reckoned that there is not at this present a suf-
ficient quantity of new matter left in nature to fur-
nish and adorn any one particular subject to the
extent of a volume. This I am told by a very skilful
computer, who has given a full demonstration of it
from rules of arithmetic.
use.
This perhaps may be objected against by those
who maintain the infinity of matter, and therefore
will not allow that any species of it can be exhausted.
For answer to which, let us examine the noblest
branch of modern wit or invention, planted and
cultivated by the present age, and which, of all
others, has borne the most and the fairest fruit. For,
though some remains of it were left us by the an-
cients, yet have not any of those, as I remember,
been translated or compiled into systems for modern
Therefore we may affirm, to our own honour,
that it has, in some sort, been both invented and
brought to perfection by the same hands. What I
mean is, that highly celebrated talent among the
modern wits of deducing similitudes, allusions, and
applications, very surprising, agreeable, and apposite,
from the pudenda of either sex, together with their
proper uses. And truly, having observed how little
invention bears any vogue, beside what is derived
into these channels, I have sometimes had a thought
that the happy genius of our age and country was
prophetically held forth by that ancient typical de-
scription of the Indian pigmies, whose stature did
not exceed above two foot; sed quorum pudenda
crassa, et ad talos usque pertingentia. Now I have
been very curious to inspect the late productions
wherein the beauties of this kind have most promi-
nently appeared; and although this vein has bled
so freely, and all endeavours have been used in the
power of human breath to dilate, extend, and keep
it open, like the Scythians, who had a custom, and
an instrument, to blow up the privities of their
mares, that they might yield the more milk: yet I
am under an apprehension it is near growing dry
and past all recovery; and that either some new
fonde of wit should, if possible, be provided, or else
that we must even be content with repetition here,
as well as upon all other occasions.
This will stand as an incontestable argument that
our modern wits are not to rekon upon the infi-
nity of matter for a constant supply.
What re-
mains, therefore, but that our last recourse must be
had to large indexes and little compendiums? quo-
tations must be plentifully gathered, and booked in
alphabet; to this end, though authors need be little
consulted, yet critics, and commentators, and lexi-
cons, carefully must. But above all, those judicious
collectors of bright parts, and flowers, and obser-
vandas, are to be nicely dwelt on by some called the
sieves and boulters of learning; though it is left
undetermined whether they dealt in pearls or meal
and, consequently, whether we are more to value
that which passed through, or what staid behind.
;
By these methods, in a few weeks there starts up
many a writer capable of managing the profoundest
and most universal subjects. For what though his
head be empty, provided his commonplace-book be
A TALE OF A TUB.
111
share, as well as operation, in every compound, by
consequence, those beings must be of chief excel
lence wherein that primordium appears most pro-
minently to abound; and therefore man is in the
full? and if you will bate him but the circumstances
of method, and style, and grammar, and invention;
allow him but the common privileges of transcribing
from others, and digressing from himself, as often as
he shall see occasion; he will desire no more ingredi-highest perfection of all created things, as having,
ents towards fitting up a treatise that shall make a
very comely figure on a bookseller's shelf; there to
be preserved neat and clean for a long eternity,
adorned with the heraldry of its title fairly inscribed
on a label; never to be thumbed or greased by stu-
dents, nor bound to everlasting chains of darkness
in a library: but when the fulness of time is come,
shall happily undergo the trial of purgatory, in
order to ascend the sky.
Without these allowances, how is it possible we
modern wits should ever have an opportunity to
introduce our collections, listed under so many thou-
sand heads of a different nature; for want of which
the learned world would be deprived of infinite
delight, as well as instruction, and we ourselves
buried beyond redress in an inglorious and undis-
tinguished oblivion?
From such elements as these I am alive to behold
the day wherein the corporation of authors can out-
vie all its brethren in the guild. A happiness derived
to us, with a great many others, from our Scythian
ancestors; among whom the number of pens was so
infinite, that the Grecian eloquence had no other way
of expressing it than by saying that in the regions
far to the north it was hardly possible for a man to
travel, the very air was so replete with feathers.
The necessity of this digression will easily excuse
the length; and I have chosen for it as proper a
place as I could readily find. If the judicious reader
can assign a fitter, I do here impower him to remove
it into any other corner he pleases. And so I
return with great alacrity, to pursue a more import-
ant concern.
SECTION THE EIGHTH.
THE learned Eolists & maintain the original cause of
all things to be wind, from which principle this
whole universe was at first produced, and into
which it must at last be resolved; that the same
breath which had kindled and blew up the flame of
nature should one day blow it out :-
Quod procul a nobis flectat fortuna gubernans.
This is what the adepti understand by their anima
mundi; that is to say, the spirit, or breath, or wind
of the world; for, examine the whole system by the
particulars of nature, and you will find it not to be
disputed. For whether you please to call the forma
informans of man by the name of spiritus, animus,
afflatus, or anima; what are all these but several
appellations for wind, which is the ruling element in
every compound, and into which they all resolve
upon their corruption? Farther, what is life it-
self but, as it is commonly called, the breath of our
nostrils? Whence it is very justly observed by
naturalists that wind still continues of great emolu-
ment in certain mysteries not to be named, giving
occasion for those happy epithets of turgidus and
inflatus, applied either to the emittent or recipient
organs.
by the great bounty of philosophers, been endued
with three distinct animas or winds, to which the
sage Eolists, with much liberality, have added a
| fourth, of equal necessity as well as ornament with
the other three; by this quartum principium taking in
the four corners of the world; which gave occasion
to that renowned cabalist, Bumbastus, of placing
the body of a man in due position to the four car-
dinal points.
a
In consequence of this. their next principle was,
that man brings with him into the world a peculiar
portion or grain of wind, which may be called a
quinta essentia, extracted from the other four. This
quintessence is of a catholic use upon all emer-
gencies of life, is improveable into all arts and
sciences, and may be wonderfully refined, as well as
enlarged, by certain methods in education. This,
when blown up to its perfection, ought not to be
covetously hoarded up, stiffed or hid under a bushel,
but freely communicated to mankind. Upon these
reasons, and others of equal weight, the wise Eolists
affirm the gift of belching to be the noblest act of a
rational creature. To cultivate which art, and ren-
der it more serviceable to mankind, they made use
of several methods. At certain seasons of the year
you might behold the priests among them, in vast
numbers, with their mouths gaping wide against a
storm. b At other times were to be seen several
hundreds linked together in a circular chain, with
every man a pair of bellows applied to his neigh.
bour's breech, by which they blew up each other to
the shape and size of a tun; and for that reason, with
great propriety of speech, did usually call their
bodies their vessels. When, by these and the like
performances, they were grown sufficiently replete,
they would immediately depart, and disembogue,
for the public good, a plentiful share of their ac-
quirements into their disciples' chaps. For we
must here observe that all learning was esteemed
principle. Because, first, it is generally affirmed,
among them to be compounded from the same
or confessed, that learning puffeth men up: and,
secondly, they proved it by the following syllo-
gism: Words are but wind; and learning is no-
thing but words; ergo, learning is nothing but
wind. For this reason, the philosophers among
them did, in their schools, deliver to their pupils all
their doctrines and opinions by eructation, wherein
they had acquired a wonderful eloquence, and of in-
credible variety. But the great characteristic by
which their chief sages were best distinguished was
a certain position of countenance, which gave un-
doubted intelligence to what degree or proportion
the spirit agitated the inward mass. For, after cer-
tain gripings, the wind and vapours issuing forth,
having first, by their turbulence and convulsions
|
within, caused an earthquake in man's little world,
distorted the mouth, bloated the cheeks, and given
the eyes a terrible kind of relievo ; at such junctures
all their belches were received for sacred, the sourer
the better, and swallowed with infinite consolation
more complete, because the breath of man's life is
in his nostrils, therefore the choicest, most edifying,
and most enlivening belches, were very wisely con-
By what I have gathered out of ancient records, I
find the compass of their doctrine took in two-and-by their meagre devotees. And, to render these yet
thirty points, wherein it would be tedious to be very
particular. However, a few of their most im-
portant precepts, deducible from it, are by no means
to be omitted; among which the following maxim
was of much weight; that since wind had the master
All pretenders to inspiration,
* One of the names of Paracelsus, called Christophorus Theo-
phrastus Paracelsus Bumbastus.
Those seditious preachers who blow up seeds of rebellion.
112
A TALE OF A TUB
veyed through that vehicle, to give them a tincture, influence on the people. It is true, indeed, that
as they passed.
these were frequently managed and directed by fe-
mate officers, whose organs were understood to be
better disposed for the admission of those oracular
gusts, as entering and passing up through a recep-
tacle of greater capacity, and causing also a pru-
hath been refined from carnal into a spiritual
ecstacy. And, to strengthen this profound conjec-
ture, it is farther insisted, that this custom of feniale
priestsa
priestsa is kept up still in certain refined colleges of
our modern Æolists, who are agreed to receive their
inspiration, derived through the receptacle aforesaid,
like their ancestors the sibyls.
Their gods were the four winds, whom they wor-
shipped as the spirits that pervade and enliven the
universe, and as those from whom alone all inspi-
ration can properly be said to proceed. However,
the chief of these, to whom they performed the ado-riency by the way, such as, with due management,
ration of latria,a was the almighty North, an an-
cient deity, whom the inhabitants of Megalopolis,
in Greece, had likewise in the highest reverence: om-
nium deorum Boream maxime celebrant [Pausan. 1. 8].
This god, though endued with ubiquity, was yet
supposed, by the profounder Æolists, to possess one
peculiar habitation, or (to speak in form) a cælum
empyræum, wherein he was more intimately present.
This was situated in a certain region, well known to
the ancient Greeks, by them called ExoTia, or the
Σκοτία,
land of darkness. And although many controver-
sies have arisen upon that matter, yet so much is
undisputed, that from a region of the like denomi-
nation the most refined Eolists have borrowed their
original; whence, in every age, the zealous among
their priesthood have brought over their choicest in-
spiration, fetching it with their own hands from the
fountain-head in certain bladders, and disploding it
among the sectaries in all nations, who did, and do,
and ever will, daily gasp and pant after it.
Now, their mysteries and rites were performed in
this manner. It is well known among the learned
that the virtuosoes of former ages had a contrivance
for carrying and preserving winds in casks or barrels,
which was of great assistance upon long sea-voyages:
and the loss of so useful an art at present is very
much to be lamented; although, I know not how,
with great negligence omitted by Pancirolus. It
was an invention ascribed to Eolus himself, from
whom this sect is denominated; and who, in honour
of their founder's memory, have to this day preserved
great numbers of those barrels, whereof they fix one
in each of their temples, first beating out the top;
into this barrel, upon solemn days, the priest enters;
where, having before duly prepared himself by the
methods already described, a secret funnel is also
conveyed from his posteriors to the bottom of the
barel, which admits new supplies of inspiration
from a northern chink or cranny. Whereupon, you
behold him swell immediately to the shape and size
of his vessel. In this posture he disembogues whole
tempests upon his auditory, as the spirit from be-
neath gives him utterance; which, issuing ex adytis
et penetralibus, is not performed without much pain
and gripings. And the wind, in breaking forth,
deals with his faced as it does with that of the sea,
first blackening, then wrinkling, and at last bursting
it into a foam. It is in this guise the sacred Æolist
delivers his oracular belches to his panting disciples;
of whom, some are greedily gaping after the sancti-
fied breath; others are all the while hymning out
the praises of the winds; and, gently wafted to and
fro by their own humming, do thus represent the
soft breezes of their deities appeased.
It is from this custom of the priests that some
authors maintain these Æolists to have been very
ancient in the world. Because the delivery of their
mysteries, which I have just now mentioned, ap-
pears exactly the same with that of other ancient
oracles, whose inspirations were owing to certain
subterraneous effluviums of wind, delivered with the
same pain to the priest, and much about the same
B
Worship paid only to the supreme Deity.
The original of tub-preaching described.
© An author who writ De Artibus perditis, &c. Of arts lost,
and of arts invented.
An exact description of the changes made in the face by,
enthusiastic preachers.
|
|
And whereas the mind of a man, when he gives
the spur and bridle to his thoughts, does never stop,
but naturally sallies out into both extremes, of high
and low, of good and evil; his first flight of fancy
commonly transports him to ideas of what is most
perfect, finished, and exalted; till, having soared out
of his own reach and sight, not well perceiving how
near the frontiers of height and depth border upon
each other; with the same course and wing he falls
down plumb into the lowest bottom of things; like
one who travels the east into the west; or like a
straight line drawn by its own length into a circle.
Whether a tincture of malice in our natures makes
us fond of furnishing every bright idea with its re-
verse; or whether reason, reflecting upon the sum
of things, can, like the sun, serve only to enlighteu
one half of the globe, leaving the other half by ue-
cessity under shade and darkness; or whether fancy,
flying up to the imagination of what is highest and
best, becomes overshot, and spent, and weary, and
suddenly falls, like a dead bird of paradise, to the
ground; or whether, after all these metaphysical
conjectures, I have not entirely missed the true
reason; the proposition, however, which has stood
me in so much circumstance, is altogether true;
that as the most uncivilized parts of mankind have
some way or other climbed up into the conception.
of a god or supreme power, so they have seldom
forgot to provide their fears with certain ghastly
notions, which, instead of better, have served them
pretty tolerably for a devil. And this proceeding
seems to be natural enough; for it is with men,
whose imaginations are lifted up very high, after
the same rate as with those whose bodies are so;
that, as they are delighted with the advantage of a
nearer contemplation upwards, so they are equally
terrified with the dismal prospect of a precipice be-
low. Thus, in the choice of a devil it has been the
usual method of mankind to single out some being,
either in act or in vision, which was in most antipathy
to the god they had framed. Thus also the sect of
Æolists possessed themselves with a dread and hor-
ror and hatred of two malignant natures, betwixt
whom and the deities they adored perpetual enmity
was established. . The first of these was the chame-
Icon, sworn foe to inspiration, who in scorn de-
voured large influences of their god, without re-
funding the smallest blast by eructation. The other
was a huge terrible monster, called Moulinavent
[windmill], who, with four strong arms, waged
eternal battle with all their divinities, dexterously
turning to avoid their blows, and repay them [infi-
dels] with interest.
b
Thus furnished and set out with gods, as well as
devils, was the renowned sect of Eolists, which
makes at this day so illustrious a figure in the
world, and whereof that polite nation of Lap.
a Quakers suffer their females to preach.
The author here, no doubt, means latitudinarians.
حرة
A TALE OF A TUB.
1:3
2
landers are, beyond all doubt, a most authentic
branch; of whom I therefore cannot, without in-
justice, here omit to make honourable mention;
since they appear to be so closely allied in point of
interest, as well as inclinations, with their brother
Eolists among us, as not only to buy their winds
by wholesale from the same merchants, but also to
retail them after the same rate and method, and to
customers much alike.
Now, whether this system here delivered was
wholly compiled by Jack, or, as some writers be-
lieve, rather copied from the original at Delphos,
with certain additions and emendations, suited to
the times and circumstances, I shall not absolutely
determine. This I may affirm, that Jack gave it at
least a new turn, and formed it into the same dress
and model as it lies deduced by me.
I have long sought after this opportunity of doing
justice to a society of men for whom I have a pecu-
liar honour, and whose opinions, as well as prac-
tices, have been extremely misrepresented and tra-
duced by the malice or ignorance of their adver-
saries. For I think it one of the greatest and best
of human actions to remove prejudices, and place
things in their truest and fairest light, which I
therefore boldly undertake, without any regards of
my own, beside the conscience, the honour, and
the thanks.
SECTION THE NINTH.
A HIGRESSION CONCERNING THE ORIGINAL, THE USE,
AND IMPROVEMENT OF MADNESS IN A COMMON-
WEALTH.
NOR shall it in any ways detract from the just re-
putation of this famous sect, that its rise and insti-
tution are owing to such an author as I have de-
scribed Jack to be; a person whose intellectuals
were overturned, and his brain shaken out of its
natural position; which we commonly suppose to
be a distemper, and call by the name of madness or
phrensy. For if we take a survey of the greatest
actions that have been performed in the world
under the influence of single men, which are, the
establishment of new empires by conquest, the ad-
vance and progress of new schemes in philosophy,
and the contriving, as well as the propagating, of
new religions; we shall find the authors of them all
to have been persons whose natural reason had ad-
mitted great revolutions, from their diet, their edu-
cation, the prevalency of some certain temper, to-
gether with the particular influence of air and cli-
mate. Besides, there is something individual in
human minds, that easily kindles at the accidental
approach and collision of certain circumstances,
which, though of paltry and mean appearance, do
often flame out into the greatest emergencies of life.
For great turns are not always given by strong
hands, but by lucky adaption, and at proper sea-
sons; and it is of no import where the fire was
kindled, if the vapour has once got up into the
brain. For the upper region of man is furnished
like the middle region of the air; the materials are
formed from causes of the widest difference, yet
produce at last the same substance and effect.
Mists arise from the earth, steams from dunghills,
exhalations from the sea, and smoke from fire; yet
all clouds are the same in composition as well as
consequences, and the fumes issuing from a jakes
will furnish as comely and useful a vapour as in-
cense from an altar. Thus far, I suppose, will easily
be granted me; and then it will follow that, as the
face of nature never produces rain but when it is
overcast and disturbed, so human understanding,
VOL. I.
seated in the brain, must be troubled and overspread
by vapours ascending foom the lower faculties to
water the invention and render it fruitful. Now,
although these vapours (as it has been already said)
are of as various original as those of the skies, yet
the crops they produce differ both in kind and de-
gree, merely according to the soil. I will produce
two instances to prove and explain what I am now
advancing.
A certain great prince a raised a mighty army,
filled his coffers with infinite treasures, provided an
invincible fleet, and all this without giving the least
part of his design to his greatest ministers or his
nearest favourites. Immediately the whole world
was alarmed; the neighbouring crowns in trem-
bling expectations towards what point the storm
would burst; the small politicians everywhere form-
ing profound conjectures. Some believed he had
laid a scheme for universal monarchy; others, after
much insight, determined the matter to be a project
for pulling down the pope, and setting up the re-
formed religion, which had once been his own.
Some, again, of a deeper sagacity, sent him into
Asia to subdue the Turk and recover Palestine. In
the midst of all these projects and preparations, a
certain state-surgeon gathering the nature of the
disease by these symptoms, attempted the cure, at
one blow performed the operation, broke the bag,
and out flew the vapour: nor did anything want to
render it a complete remedy, only that the prince
unfortunately happened to die in the performance.
Now, is the reader exceedingly curious to learn
whence this vapour took its rise, which had so long
set the nations at a gaze? what secret wheel, what
hidden spring, could put into motion so wonderful
an engine? It was afterwards discovered that the
movement of this whole machine had been directed
by an absent female, whose eyes bad raised a pro-
tuberancy, and, before emission, she was removed
into an enemy's country. What should an unhappy
prince do in such ticklish circumstances as these?
He tried in vain the poet's never-failing receipt of
corpora quæque; for,
Idque petit corpus mens unde est saucia amore:
Unde feritur, eo teudit, gestitque coire.-LUCR.
Having to no purpose used all peaceable endea-
vours, the collected part of the semen, raised and
inflamed, became adust, converted to choler, turned
head upon the spinal duct, and ascended to the
brain the very same principle that influences a
bully to break the windows of a whore who has
jilted him naturally stirs up a great prince to raise
mighty armies, and dream of nothing but sieges,
battles, and victories.
-Teterrima belli
Causa-
The other instance is what I have read some-
where in a very ancient author, of a mighty king
[Louis XIV. of France], who, for the space of
above thirty years, amused himself to take and lose
towns; beat armies, and be beaten; drive princes
out of their dominions; fright children from their
bread and butter; burn, lay waste, plunder, dra-
goon, massacre subject and stranger, friend and foe,
male and female. It is recorded that the philoso-
phers of each country were in grave dispute upon
causes, natural, moral, and political, to find out
where they should assign an original solution of this
phenomenon. At last, the vapour or spirit whien
animated the hero's brain, being in perpetual cir-
culation, seized upon that region of the human body
so renowned for furnishing the zibeta occidentalis,
Henry the Great of France.
Ravillae, who stabbed Henry the Great
114
A l'ALE OF A TUB.
and, gathering there into a tumour, left the rest of
the world for that time in peace. Of such mighty
consequence it is where those exhalations fix, and of
so little from whence they proceed.
The same
spirits which, in their superior progress, would con-
quer a kingdom, descending upon the anus, conclude
in a fistula.
Let us next examine the great introducers of new
schemes in philosophy, and search till we can find
from what faculty of the soul the disposition arises
in mortal man of taking it into his head to advance.
new systems, with such an eager zeal, in things
agreed on all hands impossible to be known: from
what seeds this disposition springs, and to what
quality of human nature these grand innovators.
have been indebted for their number of disciples.
Because it is plain that several of the chief among
them, both ancient and modern, were usually mis-
taken by their adversaries, and indeed by all except
their own followers, to have been persons crazed, or
out of their wits; having generally proceeded, in
the common course of their words and actions, by
a method very different from the vulgar dictates of
unrefined reason; agreeing for the most part in
their several models with their present undoubted
successors in the academy of modern Bedlam, whose
merits and principles I shall farther examine in due
place. Of this kind were Epicurus, Diogenes,
Apollonius, Lucretius, Paracelsus, Des Cartes, and
others; who, if they were now in the world, tied
fast, and separate from their followers, would, in
this our undistinguishing age, incur manifest danger
of phlebotomy, and whips, and chains, and dark
chambers, and straw. For what man, in the natural
state or course of thinking, did ever conceive it in
his power to reduce the notions of all mankind ex-
actly to the same length, and breadth, and height of
his own? yet this is the first humble and civil de-
sign of all innovators in the empire of reason. Epi-
curus modestly hoped that, one time or other, a cer-
tain fortuitous concourse of all men's opinions, after
perpetual justlings, the sharp with the smooth, the
light and the heavy, the round and the square,
would, by certain clinamina, unite in the notions of
atoms and void, as these did in the originals of all
things: Cartesius reckoned to see, before he died,
the sentiments of all philosophers, like so many
lesser stars in his romantic system, wrapped and
drawn within his own vortex. Now, I would gladly
be informed how it is possible to account for such
imaginations as these in particular men, without re-
course to my phenomenon of vapours ascending from
the lower faculties to overshadow the brain, and
there distilling into conceptions, for which the nar-
rowness of our mother-tongue has not yet assigned
any other name beside that of madness or phrensy.
Let us therefore now conjecture how it comes to
pass that none of these great prescribers do ever fail
providing themselves and their notions with a num-
ber of implicit disciples. And I think the reason is
easy to be assigned; for there is a peculiar string in
the harmony of human understanding, which, in
several individuals, is exactly of the same tuning.
This, if you can dexterously screw up to its right
key, and then strike gently upon it, whenever you
have the good fortune to light among those of the
same pitch, they will, by a secret necessary sym-
And in this
pathy, strike exactly at the same time.
one circumstance lies all the skill or luck of the
matter; for, if you chance to jar the string among
those who are either above or below your own
height, instead of subscribing to your doctrine, they
will tie you fast, call you mad, and feed you with
bread and water. It is therefore a point of the
nicest conduct to distinguish and adapt this noble
talent with respect to the differences of persons and
of times. Cicero understood this very well, who,
when writing to a friend in England, with a caution,
among other matters, to beware of being cheated by
our hackney-coachmen (who, it seems, in those
days were as errant rascals as they are now), has
these remarkable words: Est quod gaudeas te in ista
loca venisse, ubi aliquid sapere viderere. For, to
speak a bold truth, it is a fatal miscarriage so ill to
order affairs as to pass for a fool in one company,
when in another you might be treated as a philo-
sopher. Which I desire some certain gentlemen of
my acquaintance to lay up in their hearts, as a very
seasonable innuendo.
This, indeed, was the fatal mistake of that worthy
gentlemen, my most ingenious
gentlemen, my most ingenious friend, Mr. Wotton;
a person, in appearance, ordained for great designs,
as well as performances: whether you will consider
his notions or his locks, surely no man ever ad-
vanced into the public with fitter qualifications of
body and mind for the propagation of a new reli-
gion. O, had those happy talents, misapplied to
vain philosophy, been turned into their proper
channels of dreams and visions, where distortion of
mind and countenance are of such sovereign use,
the base detracting world would not then have
dared to report that something is amiss, that his
brain has undergone an unlucky shake, which even
his brother modernists themselves, like ungrates, do
whisper so loud, that it reaches up to the very garret
I am now writing in!
Lastly, whosoever pleases to look into the fountains
of enthusiasm, from whence, in all ages, have eternally
proceeded such fattening streams, will find the
spring-head to have been as troubled and muddy as
the current: of such great emolument is a tincture
of this vapour, which the world calls madness, that
without its help the world would not only be deprived
of those two great blessings, conquests and systems,
but even all mankind would unhappily be reduced
to the same belief in things invisible. Now, the
former postulatum being held, that it is of no import
from what originals this vapour proceeds, but eitner
in what angles it strikes and spreads over the under-
standing, or upon what species of brain it ascends;
it will be a very delicate point to cut the feather,
and divide the several reasons to a nice and curious
reader, how this numerical difference in the brain
can produce effects of so vast a difference from the
same vapour as to be the sole point of individuation
between Alexander the Great, Jack of Leyden, and
Monsieur des Cartes. The present argument is the
most abstracted that ever I engaged in; it strains
my faculties to their highest stretch: and I desire
the reader to attend with the utmost propensity; for
I now proceed to unravel this knotty point.
There is in mankind a certainª
*
Hic multa
*
desiderantur.
*
And this I take to be a clear solution of the matter.
Having therefore so narrowly passed through this
intricate difficulty, the reader will, I am sure, agree
with me in the conclusion, that if the moderns mean
by madness only a disturbance or transposition of
the brain, by force of certain vapours issuing up
from the lower faculties, then has this madness been
the parent of all those mighty revolutions that have
happened in empire, philosophy, and in religion.
For the brain in its natural position and state of
serenity disposes its owner to pass his life in the
common forms, without any thoughts of subduing
Another intended break in the manuscript.
A TALE OF A TUB
118
multitudes to his own power, his reasons or his
vision; and the more he shapes his understanding
by the pattern of human learning, the less he is in-
clined to form parties after his particular notions,
because that instructs him in his private infirmities,
as well as in the stubborn ignorance of the people.
But when a man's fancy gets astride on his reason;
when imagination is at cuffs with the senses; and
common understanding, as well as common sense,
is kicked out of doors; the first proselyte he makes
Is himself; and when that is once compassed the
difficulty is not so great in bringing over others; a
strong delusion always operating from without as
vigorously as from within. For cant and vision are
to the ear and the eye the same that tickling is to
the touch. Those entertainments and pleasures we
most value in life are such as dupe and play the wag
with the senses. For if we take an examination of
what is generally understood by happiness, as it has
respect either to the understanding or the senses, we
shall find all its properties and adjuncts will herd
under this short definition, that it is a perpetual pos-
session of being well deceived. And first with re-
lation to the mind or understanding, it is manifest
what mighty advantages fiction has over truth; and
the reason is just at our elbow, because imagination
ran build nobler scenes, and produce more wonder-
ful revolutions, thau fortune or nature will be at ex-
pense to furnish. Nor is mankind so much to blame
in his choice thus determining him, if we consider
that the debate merely lies between things past and
things conceived: and so the question is only this;
whether things that have place in the imagination
may not as properly be said to exist as those that are
seated in the memory; which may be justly held in
the affirmative, and very much to the advantage of
the former, since this is acknowledged to be the womb
of things, and the other allowed to be no more than
the grave
Again, if we take this definition of
happiness, and examine it with reference to the
senses, it will be acknowledged wonderfully adapt. |
How fading and insipid do all objects accost us that
are not conveyed in the vehicle of delusion! how
shrunk is every thing as it appears in the glass of
nature! so that, if it were not for the assistance of
artificial mediums, false lights, refracted angles, var-
nish and tinsel, there would be a mighty level in the
felicity and enjoyments of mortal men. If this were
seriously considered by the world, as I have a certain
reason to suspect it hardly will, men would no longer
reckon among their high points of wisdom the art
of exposing weak sides and publishing infirmities;
an employment, in my opinion, neither better nor
worse than that of unmasking, which, I think, has
never been allowed fair usage either in the world or
the playhouse.
In the proportion that credulity is a more peace-
ful possession of the mind than curiosity, so far pre-
ferable is that wisdom which converses about the
surface to that pretended philosophy which enters
into the depth of things, and than comes gravely
back with informations and discoveries that in the
inside they are good for nothing. The two senses
to which all objects first address themselves are the
sight and the touch; these never examine farther
than the colour, the shape, the size, and whatever
other qualities dwell or are drawn by art upon the
outward of bodies; and then comes reason officiously
with tools for cutting, and opening, and mangling,
and piercing, offering to demonstrate that they are
not of the same consistence quite through. Now
I take all this to be the last degree of perverting
nature; one of whose eternal laws it is, to put her
best furniture forward. And therefore, in order to
save the charges of all such expensive anatomy for
the time to come, I do here think fit to inform the
reader that in such conclusions as these reason is
certainly in the right; and that, in most corporeal
beings which have fallen under my cognizance, the
outside has been infinitely preferable to the in:
whereof I have been farther convinced from some
late experiments. Last week I saw a woman flayed,
and you will hardly believe how much it altered her
person for the worse. Yesterday I ordered the car-
case of a beau to be stripped in my presence; when
we were all amazed to find so many unsuspected
faults under one suit of clothes. Then I laid open
his brain, his heart, and his spleen: but I plainly
perceived at every operation, that the farther we
proceeded we found the defects increase upon us in
number and bulk: from all which, I justly formed
this conclusion to myself, that whatever philosopher
or projector can find out an art to solder and patch
up the flaws and imperfections of nature will deserve
much better of mankind, and teach us a more use-
ful science, than that so much in present esteem, of
widening and exposing them, like him who held ana-
tomy to be the ultimate end of physic. And he whose
fortunes and dispositions have placed him in a con-
venient station to enjoy the fruits of this noble art;
he that can, with Epicurus, content his ideas with
the films and images that fly off upon his senses
from the superficies of things; such a man, truly
wise, creams off nature, leaving the sour and the
dregs for philosophy and reason to lap up.
the sublime and refined point of felicity, called the
possession of being well deceived; the serene peace-
ful state of being a fool among knaves.
This is
But to return to madness. It is certain that, ac-
cording to the system I have above deduced, every
species thereof proceeds from a redundancy of
vapours; therefore, as some kinds of phrensy give
double strength to the sinews, so there are of other
species, which add vigour, and life, and spirit to the
brain: now, it usually happens that these active
spirits, getting possession of the brain, resemble
those that haunt other waste and empty dwellings,
which, for want of business, either vanish and carry
away a piece of the house, or else stay at home and
fling it all out of the windows. By which are mys-
tically displayed the two principal branches of mad-
Less, and which some philosophers, not considering
so well as I, have mistaken to be different in their
causes, over hastily assigning the first to deficiency,
and the other to redundance.
Thus
I think it therefore manifest, from what I have
here advanced, that the main point of skill and ad-
dress is, to furnish employment for this redundancy
of vapour, and prudently to adjust the season of it;
by which means it may certainly become of cardinal
and catholic emolument in a commonwealth.
one man, choosing a proper juncture, leaps into a
gulf, thence proceeds a hero, and is called the savi-
our of his country: another achieves the same en-
terprise, but, unluckily timing it, has left the brand
of madness fixed as a reproach upon his memory:
upon so nice a distinction, are we taught to repeat
the name of Curtius with 1everence and love; that
of Empedocles with hatred and contempt. Thus
also it is usually conceived that the elder Brutus
only personated the fool and madman for the good
of the public; but this was nothing else than a re-
dundancy of the same vapour long misapplied, called
by the Latins ingenium par negotiis; or, to translate
it as nearly as I can, a sort of phrensy, never in its
right element till you take it up in the business of
the state.
Upon all which, and many other reasons of equal
I 2
116
A TALE OF A TUB.
weight, though not equally curious, I do here gladly |
embrace an opportunity I have long sought for of
recommending it as a very noble undertaking to sir
Edward Seymour, sir Christopher Musgrave, sir
John Bowles, John Howe, esq., and other patriots
concerned, that they would move for leave to bring
in a bill for appointing commissioners to inspect
into Bedlam and the parts adjacent; who shall be
empowered to send for persons, papers, and records;
to examine into the merits and qualifications of
every student and professor; to observe with utmost
exactness their several dispositions and behaviour;
by which means, duly distinguishing and adapting
their talents, they might produce admirable instru-
ments for the several offices in a state [ecclesiastical],
civil and military; proceeding in such methods as I
shall here humbly propose. And I hope the gentle
reader will give some allowance to my great soli-
citudes in this important affair, upon account of the
high esteem I have borne that honourable society,
whereof I had some time the happiness to be an
unworthy member.
tually about, and at last reinfunds. His complexion
is of a dirty yellow, with a thin scattered beard,
exactly agreeable to that of his diet upou its first
declination; like other insects, who, having their
birth and education in an excrement, from thence
borrow their colour and their smell. The student
of this apartment is very sparing of his words, but
somewhat over-liberal of his breath: he holds his
hand out ready to receive your penny, and immedi-
ately upon receipt withdraws to his former occupa-
tions. Now, is it not amazing to think the society
of Warwick-lane should have no more concern for
the recovery of so useful a member, who, if one may
judge from these appearances, would become the
greatest ornament to that illustrious body? Another
student struts up fiercely to your teeth, puffing with
his lips, half squeezing out his
his lips, half squeezing out his eyes, and very graci
ously holds you out his hand to kiss.
The keeper
desires you not to be afraid of this professor, for he
will do you no hurt: to him alone is allowed the
liberty of the antechamber, and the orator of the place
gives you to understand that this solemn person is
a tailor run mad with pride. This considerable
student is adorned with many other qualities, upon
which at present I shall not farther enlarge.
Hark in your car-I am strangely mistaken if all bis
address, his motions, and his airs, would not then
be very natural, and in their proper element.
I shall not descend so minutely as to insist upon
the vast number of beaux, fiddlers, poets, and poli-
ticians, that the world might recover by such a re-
formation; but what is more material, beside the
clear gain redounding to the commonwealth, by so
large an acquisition of persons to employ, whose
talents and acquirements, if I may be so bold as to
affirm it, are now buried, or at least misapplied; it
would be a mighty advantage accruing to the public
from this inquiry, that all these would very much
excel, and arrive at great perfection in their several
kinds; which, I think, is manifest from what I have
already shown, and shall enforce by this one plain
Is any student tearing his straw in piecemeal,
swearing and blaspheming, biting his grate, foaming
at the mouth, and emptying his piss-pot in the spec-
tators' faces? let the right worshipful the commis-
sioners of inspection give him a regiment of dra-
goons, and send him into Flanders among the rest.
Is another eternally talking, sputtering, gaping, baw-
ling in a sound without period or article? what
wonderful talents are here mislaid! let him be fur-
nished immediately with a green bag and papers,
and threepence in his pocket, and away with him to
Westminster-Hall. You will find a third gravely
taking the dimensions of his kennel; a person of
foresight and insight, though kept quite in the dark;
for why, like Moses, ecce cornutaª¯ erat ejus facies.
He walks duly in one pace, entreats your penny with
due gravity and ceremony; talks much of hard times,
and taxes, and the whore of Babylon; bars up the
wooden window of his cell constantly at eight
o'clock; dreams of fire, and shoplifters, and court-instance; that even I myself, the author of these
customers, and privileged places. Now, what a
figure would all these acquirements amount to if the
owner were sent into the city among his brethren!
Behold a fourth, in much and deep conversation with
himself, biting his thumbs at proper junctures; his
countenance checkered with business and design;
sometimes walking very fast, with his eyes nailed to a
paper that he holds in his hands: a great saver of
time, somewhat thick of hearing, very short of sight,
but more of memory: a man ever in haste, a great
hatcher and breeder of business, and excellent at the
famous art of whispering nothing; a huge idolator
of monosyllables and procrastination; so ready to
give his word to everybody, that he never keeps it:
one that has forgot the common meaning of words,
but an admirable retainer of the sound: extremely
subject to the looseness, for his occasions are perpe-
tually calling him away. If you approach his grate
in his familiar intervals; Sir, says he, give me a
penny, and I'll sing you a song: but give me the
penny first.
(Hence comes the common saying,
and commoner practice, of parting with money for
a song). What a complete system of court skill is
nere described in every branch of it, and all utterly
lost with wrong application! Accost the hole of
another kennel (first stopping your nose), you will
behold a surly, glbumy, nasty, slovenly mortal, raking
in his own dung, and dabbling in his urine. The
best part of his diet is the reversion of his own or-
dure, which, expiring into steams, whirls perpe-
a Cornutus is either horned or shining, and by this term
Moses is described.
momentous truths, am a person whose imaginations
are hard-mouthed and exceedingly disposed to run
away with his reason, which I have observed, from
long experience, to be a very light rider, and easily
shaken off; upon which account my friends will
never trust me alone, without a solemn promise to
vent my speculations in this or the like manner, for
the universal benefit of human kind; which perhaps
the gentle, courteous, and candid reader, brimful of
that modern charity and tenderness usually annexed
to his office, will be very hardly persuaded to be-
lieve.
SECTION THE TENTH.
A FARTHER DIGRESSION.
Ir is an unanswerable argument of a very refined
age, the wonderful civilities that bave passed of late
years between the nation of authors and that of
readers. There can hardly pop out a play, a pam-
phlet, or a poem, without a preface full of acknow-
ledgment to the world for the general reception and
applause they have given it, which the Lord knows
where, or when, or how, or from whom it received.
In due deference to so laudable a custom, I do here
return my humble thanks to his majesty and both
houses of parliament, to the lords of the king's most
honourable privy-council, to the reverend the judges,
to the clergy, and gentry, and yeomanry of this land;
but in a more especial manner to my worthy brethren
and friends at Will's coffee-house, and Gresham-
college, and Warwick-lane, and Moorfields, and
Scotland-yard, and Westminster-hall, and Guildhall:
A TALE OF A TUR
11"
In short, to all inhabitants and retainers whatsoever,
either in court, or church, or camp, or city, or coun-
try, for their generous and universal acceptance of
this divine treatise. I accept their approbation and
good opinion with extreme gratitude, and, to the
utmost of my poor capacity, shall take hold of all
opportunities to return the obligation.
I am also happy that fate has flung me into so
blessed an age for the mutual felicity of booksellers
and authors, whom I may safely affirm to be at this
day the two only satisfied parties in England. Ask
an author how his last piece has succeeded; why,
truly, he thanks his stars the world has been very
favourable, and he has not the least reason to com-
plain and yet, by G-, he wrote it in a week, at
bits and starts, when he could steal an hour from
his urgent affairs; as it is a hundred to one, you
may see farther in the preface, to which he refers
you; and for the rest to the bookseller. There you
go as a customer, and make the same question: he
blesses his God the thing takes wonderfully, he is
just printing the second edition, and has but three
left in his shop. You beat down the price: "Sir, we
shall not differ;" and, in hopes of your custom ano-
ther time, lets you have it as reasonable as you
please; and "pray send as many of your acquaintance
as you will, I shall, upon your account, furnish them
all at the same rate.'
discourse the whole stock of matter I have been sc
many years providing. Since my vein is once open-
ed, I am content to exhaust it all at a running, for
the peculiar advantage of my dear country, and for
the universal benefit of mankind. Therefore, hos-
pitably considering the number of my guests, they
shall have my whole entertainment at a meal; and
I scorn to set up the leavings in the cupboard. What
the guests cannot eat may be given to the poor; and
the dogs under the table may gnaw the bones. This
I understand for a more generous proceeding than to
turn the company's stomach, by inviting them again
to-morrow to a scurvy meal of scraps.
If the reader fairly considers the strength of what
I have advanced in the foregoing section, I am con-
vinced it will produce a wonderful revolution in his
notions and opinions; and he will be abundantly
better prepared to receive and to relish the conclud-
ing part of this miraculous treatise. Readers may
be divided into three classes-the superficial, the ig-
norant, and the learned and I have with much
felicity fitted my pen to the genius and advantage of
each. The superficial reader will be strangely pro-
voked to laughter; which clears the breast and the
lungs, is sovereign against the spleen, and the most
innocent of all diureties. The ignorant reader, be-
tween whom and the former the distinction is ex-
tremely nice, will find himself disposed to stare;
which is an admirable remedy for ill eyes, serves to
raise and enliven the spirits, and wonderfully helps
perspiration. But the reader truly learned, chiefly
for whose benefit I wake when others sleep, and
sleep when others wake, will here find sufficient
matter to employ his speculations for the rest of his
life. It were much to be wished, and I do here
humbly propose for an experiment, that every prince
in Christendom will take seven of the deepest
scholars in his dominions, and shut them up close
for seven years in seven chambers, with a command
to write seven ample commentaries on this compre-
Now, it is not well enough considered to what
accidents and occasions the world is indebted for the
greatest part of those noble writings which hourly
start up to entertain it. If it were not for a rainy
day, a drunken vigil, a fit of the spleen, a course of
physic, a sleepy Sunday, an ill run at dice, a long
tailor's bill, a beggar's purse, a factious head, a hot
sun, costive diet, want of books, and a just contempt
of learning: but for these events, I say, and some
others too long to recite (especially a prudent neglect
of taking brimstone inwardly), I doubt the number
of authors and of writings would dwindle away to a
degree most woful to behold. To confirm this opi-hensive discourse. I shall venture to affirm that,
nion, hear the words of the famous Troglodyte phi-
losopher: It is certain (said he) some grains of folly
are of course annexed, as part of the composition of
human nature, only the choice is left us, whether
we please to wear them inlaid or embossed: and we
need not to go very far to seek how that is usually
determined, when we remember it is with human
faculties as with liquors, the lightest will be ever at
the top.
He
There is in this famous island of Britain a certain
paltry scribbler, very voluminous, whose character
the reader cannot wholly be a stranger to.
deals in a pernicious kind of writings, called second
parts; and usually passes under the name of the au-
thor of the first. I easily foresee, that as soon as I
lay down my pen this nimble operator will have
stolen it, and treat me as inhumanly as he has already
done Dr. Blackmore, Lestrange, and many others,
who shall here be nameless; I therefore fly for jus-
tice and relief into the hands of that great rectifier |
of saddles, and lover of mankind, Dr. Bentley,
begging he will take this enormous grievance into
his most modern consideration; and if it should so
happen that the furniture of an ass, in the shape of
second part, must, for my sins, be clapped by a mis-
take upon my back, that he will inimediately please,
in the presence of the world, to lighten me of the
burden, and take it home to his own house, till the
true beast thinks fit to call for it.
In the mean time I do here give this public notice.
that my resolutions are to circumscribe within this
Alluding to the trite phrase, "place the saddle ou the
right borse."
a
whatever difference may be found in their several
conjectures, they will be all, without the least dis-
tortion, manifestly deducible from the text. Mean-
time, it is my earnest request that so useful an un-
dertaking may be entered upon, if their majesties
please, with all convenient speed; because I have
a strong inclination. before I leave the world, to
taste a blessing which we mysterious writers can
seldom reach till we have gotten into our graves:
whether it is, that fame, being a fruit grafted on the
body, can hardly grow, and much less ripen, till the
stock is in the earth; or whether she be a bird of
prey, and is lured, among the rest, to pursue after
the scent of a carcase; or whether she conceives her
trumpet sounds best and farthest when she stands
on a tomb, by the advantage of a rising ground and
the echo of a hollow vault.
It is true, indeed, the republic of dark authors,
after they once found out this excellent expedient of
dying, have been peculiarly happy in the variety as
well as extent of their reputation. For night being
the universal mother of things, wise philosophers
hold all writings to be fruitful in the proportion that
they are dark; and therefore, the true illuminated
(that is to say, the darkest of all) have met with such
numberless commentators, whose scolastic midwife-
ry has delivered them of meanings that the authors
themselves perhaps never conceived, and yet may
very justly be allowed the lawful parents of them
the words of such writers being like seed, which,
however scattered at random, when they light per
By dogs, the author menus injudicious criLICE
b A name of the Rosicruciaus.
118
A TALE OF A TUR.
a fruitful ground, will multiply far beyond either the
hopes or imagination of the sower.
a
And therefore, in order to promote so useful a
work, I will here take leave to glance a few innuen-
does, that may be of great assistance to those sub-
lime spirits who shall be appointed to labour in a
universal comment upon this wonderful discourse.
And, first, I have couched a very profound mystery
in the number of O's multiplied by seven and divided
by nine. Also, if a devout brother of the rosy cross
will pray fervently for sixty-three mornings, with a
lively faith, and then transpose certain letters and
syllables, according to prescription, in the second
and fifth section, they will cert inly reveal into a full
receipt of the opus magnum. Lastly, whoever will
be at the pains to calculate the whole number of each
letter in this treatise, and sum up the difference ex-
actly between the several numbers, assigning the
true natural cause for every such difference, the dis-
coveries in the product will plentifully reward his
labour. But then he must beware of Bythus and
Sigé, and be sure not to forget the qualities of Acha-
moth; à cujus lacrymis humecta prodit substantia, à
risu lucida, à tristitia, et à timore mobilis; wherein
Eugenius Philalethes hath committed an unpardon-
able mistake.
SECTION THE ELEVENTH.
AFTER SO wide a compass as I have wandered, I do
now gladly overtake and close in with my subject,
and shall henceforth hold on with it an even pace
to the end of my journey, except some beautiful
prospect appears within sight of my way; whereof
though at present I have neither warning nor ex-
pectation, yet upon such an accident, come when it
will, I shall beg my reader's favour and company,
allowing me to conduct him through it along with
myself. For in writing it is as in travelling; if a
man is in haste to be at home (which I acknow-
ledge to be none of my case, having never so little
business as when I am there), and his horse be tired
with long riding and ill ways, or naturally a jade, I
advise him clearly to make the straightest and the
commonest road, be it ever so dirty; but then surely
we must own such a man to be a scurvy companion
at best; he spatters himself and his fellow-travellers
at every step; all their thoughts, and wishes, and
conversation turn entirely upon the subject of their
journey's end; and at every splash, and plunge,
and stumble, they heartily wish one another at the
devil.
On the other side, when a traveller and his horse
are in heart and plight, when his purse is full and
the day before him, he takes the road only where it
is clean and convenient; entertains his company
there as agreeably as he can; but, upon the first oc-
casion, carries them along with him to every de-
lightful scene in view, whether of art, of nature, or
of both; and if they chance to refuse, out of stupidity
or weariness, let them jog on by themselves and be
d-n'd; he'll overtake them at the next town; at
which arriving, he rides furiously through; the
men, women, and children, run out to gaze; a hun-
dred noisy cursb run barking after him, of which, if
he honours the boldest with a lash of his whip, it is
rather out of sport than revenge; but should some
sourer mongrel dare too near an approach, he re-
ceives a salute on the chaps by an accidental stroke
from the courser's heels, nor is any ground lost by
This is what the cabalists among the Jews have done with
the Bible.
b What the author calls the true critics.
|
the blow, which sends him yelping and limping
home.
I now proceed to sum up the singular adventures
of my renowned Jack; the state of whose dispo-
sitions and fortunes the careful reader does, no
doubt, most exactly remember, as I last parted with
them in the conclusion of a former section. There-
fore, his next care must be, from two of the fore-
going, to extract a scheme of notions that may best.
rit his understanding for a true relish of what is to
ensue.
JACK had not only calculated the first revolution
of his brain so prudently as to give rise to that epi-
demic sect of Eolists, but succeeding also into a
new and strange variety of conceptions, the fruit-
fulness of his imagination led him into certain no-
tions, which, although in appearance very unac-
countable, were not without their mysteries and
their meanings, nor wanted followers to counte-
nance and improve them. I shall therefore be ex-
tremely careful and exact in recounting such mate-
rial passages of this nature as I have been able to
collect, either from undoubted tradition or inde-
fatigable reading; and shall describe them as gra-
phically as it is possible, and as far as notions of
that height and latitude can be brought within the
compass of a pen. Nor do I at all question but
they will furnish plenty of noble matter for such
whose converting imaginations dispose them to re-
duce all things into types; who can make shadows,
substances, no thanks to philosophy; whose pecu-
no thanks to the sun; and then mould them into
liar talent lies in fixing tropes and allegories to the
letter, and refining what is literal into figure and
mystery.
JACK had provided a fair copy of his father's
will, engrossed in form upon a large skin of parch-
ment; and resolving to act the part of a most du-
tiful son, he became the fondest creature of it ima-
ginable. For although, as I have often told the
reader, it consisted wholly in certain plain, easy
directions, about the management and wearing of
their coats, with legacies, and penalties in case of
obedience or neglect, yet he began to entertain a
fancy that the matter was deeper and darker, and
therefore must needs have a great deal more of mys-
tery at the bottom. "Gentlemen," said he, "I
will prove this very skin of parchment to be meat,
drink, and cloth, to be the philosopher's stone and
the universal medicine." In consequence of which
raptures, he resolved to make use of it in the neces-
sary as well as the most paltry occasions of life.b
He had a way of working it into any shape he
pleased; so that it served him for a nightc ip when
he went to bed, and for an umbrella in rainy wea-
ther. He would lap a piece of it about a sore toe,
or, when he had fits, burn two inches under his
nose; or, if anything lay heavy on his stomach,
scrape off and swallow as much of the powder as
would lie on a silver penny; they were all infallible
remedies. With analogy to these refinements, his
common talk and conversation ran wholly in the
phrase of his will, and he circumscribed the utmost
of his eloquence within that compass, not daring to
let slip a syllable without authority from that."
Once, at a strange house, he was suddenly taken
short upon an urgent juncture, whereon it may not
be allowed too particularly to dilate; and being not
able to call to mind, with that suddenness the occa-
"The following passage refers to the practice of the fanatics.
b The author lashes those pretenders to punity who place su
much merit in using scripture phrases.
e The fanatics pretend that nothing is lawful but what is ex-
pressly commanded in Scripture.
A TALE OF A TUB
119
sion required, an authentic phrase for demanding
the way to the back-side, he chose rather, as the
most prudent course, to incur the penalty in such
cases usually annexed. Neither was it possible for
the united rhetoric of mankind to prevail with him
to make himself clean again; because, having con-
sulted the will upon this emergency, he met with a
passage near the bottom (whether foisted in by the
trauscriber is not known) which seemed to for-
bid it.
a
He made it a part of his religion never to say
grace to his meat; nor could all the world persuade
him, as the common phrase is, to eat his victuals
like a christian.
He bore a strange kind of appetite to snap-dragon,
and to the livid snuffs of a burning candle, which
he would catch and swallow with an agility won-
derful to conceive; and, by this procedure, main-
tained a perpetual flame in his belly, which, issuing
in a glowing steam from both his eyes, as well as
his nostrils and his mouth, made his head appear,
in a dark night like the skull of an ass, wherein a
roguish boy had conveyed a farthing candle, to the
terror of his majesty's liege subjects. Therefore, he
made use of no other expedient to light himself
home, but was wont to say that a wise man was his
own lantern.
Now,
He would shut his eyes as he walked along the
streets, and if he happened to bounce his head
against a post, or fall into a kennel, as he seldom
missed either to do one or both, he would tell the
gibing apprentices who looked on that he submitted
with entire resignation as to a trip or a blow of fate,
with whom he found, by long experience, how vain
it was either to wrestle or to cuff; and whoever
durst undertake to do either would be sure to come
off with a swinging fall or a bloody nose. "It
was ordained," said he, "some few days before the
creation, that my nose and this very post should
have a rencounter; and therefore nature thought fit
to send us both into the world in the same age, and
to make us countrymen and fellow-citizens.
had my eyes been open, it is very likely the business
night have been a great deal worse; for how many
a confounded slip is daily got by a man with all his
foresight about him? Besides, the eyes of the un-
derstanding see best when those of the senses are
out of the way; and therefore blind men are ob-
served to tread their steps with much more caution,
and conduct, and judgment, than those who rely
with too much confidence upon the virtue of the
visual nerve, which every little accident shakes out
of order, and a drop or a film can wholly discon-
cert; like a lantern among a pack of roaring bullies
when they scour the streets, exposing its owner and
itself to outward kicks and buffets, which both
might have escaped if the vanity of appearing would
have suffered them to walk in the dark. But far-
ther, if we examine the conduct of these boasted
lights, it will prove yet a great deal worse than their
fortune. It is true, I have broke my nose against
this post, because fortune either forgot, or did not
think it convenient, to twitch me by the elbow, and
give me notice to avoid it. But let not this encou-
rage either the present age or posterity to trust their
noses into the keeping of their eyes, which may
prove the fairest way of losing them for good and
all. For, O ye eyes, ye blind guides; miserable
guardians are ye of our frail noses; ye, I say, who
fasten upon the first precipice in view, and then
tow our wretched willing bodies after you to the
• The slovenly way of receiving the sacrament among the
fanatics
b Absolute predestination burlesqued.
|
| very brink of destruction: and aias! that briuk is
rotten, our feet slip, and we tumble down prone
into a gulf, without one hospitable shrub in the way
to break the fall; a fall to which not any nose of
mortal make is equal, except that of the giant Laur-
calco, who was lord of the silver bridge. Most pro-
perly, therefore, O eyes, and with great justice, may
you be compared to those foolish lights which con-
duct men through dirt and darkness, till they fall
into a deep pit or a noisome bog."
This I have produced as a scantling of Jack's
great eloquence, and the force of his reasoning upon
such abstruse matters.
He was, besides, a person of great design and
improvement in affairs of devotion, having intro-
duced a new deity, who has since met with a vast
number of worshippers; by some called Babel, by
others Chaos, who had an ancient temple of Gothic
structure upon Salisbury plain, famous for its shrine
and celebration by pilgrims.
When he had some roguish trick to play,a he
would down with his knees, up with his eyes, and
fall to prayers, though in the midst of the kennel.
Then it was that those who understood his pranks
would be sure to get far enough out of his way;
and whenever curiosity attracted strangers to laugh
or to listen, he would, of a sudden, with one hand,
out with his gear and piss full in their eyes, and
with the other all bespatter them with mud.
In winter he went always loose and unbuttoned,b
and clad as thin as possible to let in the ambient
heat; and in summer lapped himself close and
thick to keep it out.
In all revolutions of government he would make
his court for the office of hangman general; and in
the exercise of that dignity, wherein he was very
dexterous, would make use of no other vizarde than
a long prayer.
He had a tongue so musculous and subtile, that
he could twist it up into his nose, and deliver a
strange kind of speech from thence. He was also
the first in these kingdoms who began to improve
the Spanish accomplishment of braying; and having
large ears, perpetually exposed and erected, he
carried his art to such a perfection, that it was a
point of great difficulty to distinguish, either by the
view or the sound, between the original and the
copy.
He was troubled with a disease reverse to that
called the stinging of the tarantula; and would run
dog-mad at the noise of music,s especially a pair of
bagpipes [organs]. But he would cure himself
again by taking two or three turns in Westminster-
hall, or Billingsgate, or in a boarding-school, or the
Royal Exchange, or a state coffee-house.
He was a person that feared no colours, but mor-
tally hated all, and, upon that account, bore a cruel
aversion against painters, insomuch that, in his
paroxysms, as he walked the streets, he would have
his pockets loaden with stones to pelt at the signs.b
Having, from this manner of living, frequent oc-
casion to wash himself, he would often leap over
head and ears into water, though it were in the
midst of the winter, but was always observed to
a The villanies and cruelties committed by enthusiasts ah!
fanatics.
b Affected differences in habit and behaviour.
• The fanatics opposing reasonable customs.
d Severe persecutors, in a form of cant and devotion.
e Cromwell and his confederates went, as they called it, to
seek the Lord, when they resolved to murder the king.
Their cant and affected tones.
← Dissenters' aversion against instrumental music in churches.
Defaced the statues and paintings in all the churches in
England.
Baj tism of adults by plunging.
120
A TALE OF A TUB.
come out again much dirtier, if possible, than he
went in.
He was the first that ever found out the secret
of contriving a soporiferous medicine to be conveyed
in at the ears [fanatic preaching]; it was a com-
pound of sulphur and balm of Gilead, with a little
pilgrim's salve.
He wore a large plaster of artificial caustics on
his stomach, with the fervour of which he could set
himself a-groaning, like the famous board upon ap-
plication of a red-hot iron.
He would stand in the turning of a street, and,
calling to those who passed by, would cry to one,
"Worthy sir, do me the honour of a good slap in
the chaps." To another, "Honest friend, pray
And
favour me with a handsome kick on the arse:
Madam, shall I entreat a small box on the ear
from your ladyship's fair hands? Noble captain,
lend a reasonable thwack, for the love of God, with
that cane of yours over these poor shoulders."
when he had, by such earnest solicitations, made a
shift to procure a basting sufficient to swell up his
fancy and his sides, he would return home extremely
comforted, and full of terrible accounts of what he
had undergone for the public good. "Observe this
stroke" (said he, showing his bare shoulders); "a
plaguy janizary gave it me this very morning, at
seven o'clock, as, with much ado, I was driving off
the great Turk. Neighbours, mind, this broken
head deserves a plaster; had poor Jack been tender
of his noddle, you would have seen the pope and
the French king, long before this time of day, among
your wives and your warehouses. Dear christians,
the great Mogul was come as far as Whitechapel,
and you may thank these poor sides that he hath
not (God bless us!) already swallowed up man,
woman, and child."
It was highly worth observing the singular effects
of that aversion or antipathy which Jack and his
brother Peter seemed, even to an affectation, to bear
against each other. Peter had lately done some
rogueries that forced him to abscond, and he seldom
ventured to stir out before night, for fear of bailiffs.
Their lodgings were at the two most distant parts of
the town from each other; and whenever their oc-
casions or humours called them abroad, they would
make choice of the oddest unlikely times, and most
uncouth rounds they could invent, that they might
be sure to avoid one another; yet, after all this, it
was their perpetual fortune to meet. The reason
of which is easy enough to apprehend; for, the
phrensy and the spleen of both having the same
foundation, we may look upon them as two pair of
compasses, equally extended, and the fixed foot of
each remaining in the same centre, which, though
moving contrary ways at first, will be sure to en-
counter somewhere or other in the circumference.
Besides, it was among the great misfortunes of Jack
to bear a huge personal resemblance with his bro-
ther Peter. Their humour and dispositions were
not only the same, but there was a close analogy in
their shape, their size, and their mien. Insomuch,
as nothing was more frequent than for a bailiff to
seize Jack by the shoulders, and cry, "Mr. Peter,
you are the king's prisoner." Or, at other times,
for one of Peter's nearest friends to accost Jack
with open arms, "Dear Peter, I am glad to see
thee; pray send me one of your best medicines for
the worms.' This, we may suppose, was a mortify-
ing return of those pains and proceedings Jack had
laboured in so long; and finding how directly oppo-
site all his endeavours had answered to the sole end
a The fanatics have always had a way of affecting to run into
persecution.
and intention which he had proposed to hinıself,
how could it avoid having terrible effects upon a
head and heart so furnished as his? However, the
poor remainders of his coat bore all the punish-
ment; the orient sun never entered upon his diurnal
progress without missing a piece of it. He hired a
tailor to stitch up the collar so close that it was
ready to choke him, and squeezed out his eyes at
such a rate as one could see nothing but the white.
What little was left of the main substance of the
coat he rubbed every day for two hours against a
rough-cast wall, in order to grind away the remnants
of lace and embroidery; but at the same time went
on with so much violence that he proceeded a hea-
then philosopher. Yet, after all he could do of this
kind, the success continued still to disappoint his
expectation. For, as it is the nature of rags to bear
a kind of mock resemblance to finery, there being a
sort of fluttering appearance in both which is not to
be distinguished at a distance, in the dark, or by
short-sighted eyes, so, in those junctures, it fared
with Jack and his tatters, that they offered to the
first view a ridiculous flaunting, which, assisting the
resemblance in person and air, thwarted all his pro-
jects of separation, and left so near a similitude be-
tween them as frequently deceived the very disciples
and followers of both.
*
Desunt non-
nulla.
The old Sclavonian proverb said well, that it is
with men as with asses; whoever would keep them
fast must find a very good hold at their ears. Yet I
think we may affirm that it has been verified by re-
reated experience that-
Effugiet tamen hæc sceleratus vincula Proteus.
It is good, therefore, to read the maxims of our
ancestors, with great allowances to times and per-
sons; for, if we look into primitive records, we shall
find that no revolutions have been so great or so
frequent as those of human ears. In former days
there was a curious invention to catch and keep
them, which I think we may justly reckon among
the artes perditæ; and how can it be otherwise, when
in the latter centuries the very species is not only
diminished to a very lamentable degree, but the poor
remainder is also degenerated so far as to mock our
skilfullest tenure? For, if the only slitting of one
ear in a stag has been found sufficient to propagate
the defect through a whole forest, why should we
wonder at the greatest consequences from so many
loppings and mutilations to which the ears of our
fathers, and our own, have been of late so much ex-
posed? It is true, indeed, that while this island of
ours was under the dominion of grace, many endea-
vours were made to improve the growth of ears once
more among us. The proportion of largeness was
not only looked upon as an ornament of the out-
ward man, but as
a type of grace in the inward.
Besides, it is held by naturalists that, if there be a
protuberancy of parts in the superior region of the
body, as in the ears and nose, there must be a parity
also in the inferior: and, therefore, in that truly
pious age, the males in every assembly, according as
they were gifted, appeared very forward in exposing
their ears to view, and the regions about them; be-
cause Hippocrates tells us that, when the vein be-
hind the ear happens to be cut, a man becomes an
eunuch; and the females were nothing backwarder
in beholding and edifying by them; whereof those
who had already used the means looked about them
with great concern, in hopes of conceiving a suitable
offspring by such a prospect: others, who stood can-
didates for benevolence found there a plentifu.
A TALE OF A TUB.
121
choice, and were sure to fix upon such as discovered
the largest ears, that the breed might not dwindle
between them. Lastly, the devouter sisters, who
looked upon all extraordinary dilatations of that
member as protrusions of zeal, or spiritual excres-
cences, were sure to honour every head they sat
upon as if they had been marks of grace; but espe-
cially that of the preacher, whose ears were usually
of the prime magnitude; which, upon that account,
he was very frequent and exact in exposing with all
advantages to the pcople; in his rhetorical paroxysms
turning sometimes to hold forth the one, and some-
times to hold forth the other: from which custom
the whole operation of preaching is to this very day,
among their professors, styled by the phrase of hold-
ing forth.
Such was the progress of the saints for advancing
the size of that member; and it is thought the suc-
cess would have been every way answerable, if, in
process of time, a cruel king had not arisen, who
raised a bloody persecution against all ears above a
certain standard: upon which, some were glad to
hide their flourishing sprouts in a black border,
others crept wholly under a periwig; some
slit, others cropped, and a great number sliced off
to the stumps. But of this more hereafter in my
general history of ears, which I design very speedily
to bestow upon the public.
ન
strip him to the skin. How Martin, with much adu,
showed them both a fair pair of heels. How a new
warrant came out against Peter; upon which, how
Jack left him in the lurch, stole his protection, and
made use of it himself. How Jack's tatters came
into fashion in court and city; how he got upon a
great horse, and eat custard. But the particulars
of all these, with several others which have now slid
out of my memory, are lost beyond all hopes of re-
covery. For which misfortune, leaving my readers
to condole with each other, as far as they shall find
it to agree with their several constitutions, but con-
juring them by all the friendship that has passed be-
tween us, from the title-page to this, not to proceed
so far as to injure their healths for an accident past
remedy-I now go on to the ceremonial part of an
accomplished writer, and therefore, by a courtly mo-
dern, least of all others to be omitted.
THE CONCLUSION.
Well
GOING too long is a cause of abortion as effectual,
though not so frequent, as going too short, and holds
true especially in the labours of the brain.
were
fare the heart of that noble jesuit [Père d'Orleans]
who first adventured to confess in print that books
must be suited to their several seasons, like dress,
and diet, and diversions; and better fare our noble
nation for refining upon this among other French
modes. I am living fast to see the time when a
book that misses its tide shall be neglected, as the
moon by day, or like mackerel a week after the
season. No man has more nicely observed our
climate than the bookseller who bought the copy of
this work; he knows to a tittle what subjects will
best go off in a dry year, and which it is proper to
expose foremost when the weather-glass is fallen to
much rain. When he had seen this treatise, and
consulted his almanac upon it, he gave me to under-
stand that he had manifestly considered the two
principal things, which were, the bulk and the sub-
ject, and found it would never take but after a long
vacation, and then only in case it should happen to
be a hard year for turnips. Upon which I desired
to know, considering my urgent necessities, what he
thought might be acceptable this month. He looked
From this brief survey of the falling state of ears
in the last age, and the small care had to advance
their ancient growth in the present, it is manifest
how little reason we can have to rely upon a hold so
short, so weak, and so slippery, and that whoever desires
to catch mankind fast must have recourse to some
other methods. Now, he that will examine buman
nature with circumspection enough may discover
several handles, whereof the six senses afford one
a-piece, beside a great number that are screwed to
the passions, and some few riveted to the intellect.
Among these last, curiosity is one, and, of all others,
affords the firmest grasp curiosity, that spur in the
side, that bridle in the mouth, that ring in the nose,
of a lazy and impatient and a grunting reader.
this handle it is, that an author should seize upon
his readers; which as soon as he has once compassed,
all resistance and struggling are in vain; and they
become his prisoners as close as he pleases, till weari-
ness or dulness force him to let
his gripe.
go
And therefore, I, the author of this miraculous
treatise, having hitherto, beyond expectation, main-
tained, by the aforesaid handle, a firm hold upon my
gentle readers, it is with great reluctance that I am
at length compelled to remit my grasp; leaving them,
in the perusal of what remains, to that natural os-
citancy inherent in the tribe. I can only assure
thee, courteous reader, for both our comforts, that
my concern is altogether equal to thine for my un-
happiness in losing, or mislaying among my papers,
the remaining part of these memoirs; which con-
sisted of accidents, turns, and adventures, both new,
agrecable, and surprising; and therefore calculated,
in all due points, to the delicate taste of this our
noble age. But, alas! with my utmost endeavours,
I have been able only to retain a few of the heads.
Under which, there was a full account how Peter
got a protection out of the king's bench; and of a
reconcilement between Jack and him, upon a de-
sign they had, in a certain rainy night, to trepan
ɔrother Martin into a spunging-house, and there
a Charles the Second, at his restoration, turned out all the
lissenting teachers that would not conform.
b. In the reign of James the Second the presbyteriaus joined
me papists, against the church of England, and addressed him
for repeal of the petal laws and test
westward and said, I doubt we shall have a fit of
bad weather; however, if you could prepare some
pretty little banter, (but not in verse,) or a small
treatise upon the
it would run like wildfire.
But if it hold up, I have already hired an author to
write something against Dr Bentley, which I am
sure will turn to account.b
At length we agreed upon this expedient; that
when a customer comes for one of these, and desires
in confidence to know the author, he will tell him
very privately as a friend, naming whichever of the
wits shall happen to be that week in vogue; and if
Durfey's last play shall be in course, I would as
lieve he may be the person as Congreve. This I
mention, because I am wonderfully well acquainted
with the present relish of our courteous readers;
and have often observed with singular pleasure,
that a fly driven from a honey-pot will immediately,
with very good appetite, alight and finish his meal
on an excrement.
I have one word to say upon the subject of pro-
found writers, who are grown very numerous of
a Sir Humphry Edwin, a presbyterian, when lord mayor
of London, went in his formalities to a couvent.cle.
› When Dr. Prideaux took his Connection of the Old and
New Testament to the bookseller, he told him it was a dry
subject, and the printing con'd not be ventured unless he
would enliven it with a little humour.
122
THE HISTORY OF MARTIN.
late; and I know very well the judicious world is
resolved to list me in that number. I conceive
therefore, as to the business of being profound, that
it is with writers as with wells-a person with
good eyes
may see to the bottom of the deepest,
provided any water be there; and often when there
is nothing in the world at the bottom besides dry-
ness and dirt, though it be but a yard and a half
under-ground, it shall pass, however for wondrous
deep, upon no wiser a reason than because it is
wondrous dark.
I am now trying an experiment very frequent
among modern authors, which is to write upon no-
thing; when the subject is utterly exhausted, to let
the pen still move on: by some called the ghost of
wit, delighting to walk after the death of its body.
And to say the truth, there seems to be no part of
knowledge in fewer hands than that of discerning
when to have done. By the time that an author
has written out a book he and his readers are be-
come old acquaintance, and grow very loth to part;
so that I have sometimes known it to be in writing
as in visiting, where the ceremony of taking leave
has employed more time than the whole conversa-
tion before. The conclusion of a treatise resembles
the conclusion of human life, which has sometimes
been compared to the end of a feast, where few are
satisfied to depart, ut plenus vitæ conviva; for men
will sit down after the fullest meal, though it be
only to doze or to sleep out the rest of the day. But
in this latter I differ extremely from other writers;
and shall be too proud if, by all my labours, I can
have anyways contributed to the repose of mankind
in times so turbulent and unquiet as these. Neither
do I think such an employment so very alien from
the office of a wit as some would suppose. For,
among a very polite nation in Greece, there were
the same temples built and consecrated to Sleep and
the Muses; between which two deities they be-
lieved the strictest friendship was established.
I have one concluding favour to request of my
reader, that he will not expect to be equally diverted
and informed by every line or every page of this
discourse; but give some allowance to the author's
spleen and short fits or intervals of dulness, as well
as his own; and lay it seriously to his conscience,
whether, if he were walking the streets in dirty
weather or a rainy day, he would allow it fair deal-
ing in folks at their ease from a window to criticise
his gait and ridicule his dress at such a juncture.
In my disposure of employments of the brain I
have thought fit to make invention the master, and
to give method and reason the office of its lackeys.
The cause of this distribution was, from observing
it my peculiar case to be often under a temptation
of being witty, upon occasions where I could be
neither wise, nor sound, nor anything to the matter
in hand. And I am too much a servant of the mo-
dern way to neglect any such opportunities, what-
ever pains or improprieties I may be at to introduce
them. For I have observed that, from a laborious
collection of seven hundred and thirty-eight flowers
and shining hints of the best modern authors, di-
gested with great reading into my book of common-
places, I have not been able, after five years, to
draw, hook, or force into common conversation, any
more than a dozen. Of which dozen, the one moiety
failed of success by being dropped among unsuitable
company; and the other cost me so many strains
and traps and ambages to introduce, that I at
length resolved to give it over. Now, this disap-
pointment (to discover a secret), I must own, gave
me the first hint of setting up for an author; and I
have since found among some particular friends,
|
that it is become a very general complaint, and has
produced the same effects upon many others. For
I have remarked many a towardly word to be wholly
neglected or despised in discourse, which has passed
very smoothly with some consideration and esteem
after its preferment and sanction in print. But
now, since by the liberty and encouragement of the
press, I am grown absolute master of the occasions
and opportunities to expose the talents I have ac-
quired, I already discover that the issues of my ob-
servanda begin to grow too large for the receipts.
Therefore I shall here pause a while, till I find, by
feeling the world's pulse and my own, that it will
be of absolute necessity for us both to resume my
pen.
THE HISTORY OF MARTIN.
Giving an account of his departure from Jack, and their set-
ting up for themselves, on which account they were obliged
to travel and meet many disasters, finding no shelter near
Peter's habitation; Martin succeeds in the north: Peter
thuuders against Martin for the loss of the large revenue he
used to receive from thence. Harry Huff sent Martin a
challenge to fight, which he received; Peter rewards Ilary
for the pretended victory, which encouraged Harry to huff
Peter also. With many other extraordinary adventures of
the said Martin in several places with many considerable
persons
With a digression concerning the nature, usefulness, and ne-
cessity of wars and quarrels.
How Jack and Martin, being parted, set up each
for himself. How they travelled over hills and
dales, met many disasters, suffered much from the
good cause, and struggled with difficulties and
wants, not having where to lay their head; by all
which they afterwards proved themselves to be right
father's sons, and Peter to be spurious. Finding
no shelter near Peter's habitation, Martin travelled
northwards, and finding the Thuringians and neigh-
bouring people disposed to change, he set up his
stage first among them; where, making it his busi-
ness to cry down Peter's powders, plasters, salves,
and drugs, which he had sold a long time at a dear
rate, allowing Martin none of the profit, though he
had been often employed in recommending and
putting them off; the good people, willing to save
their pence, began to hearken to Martin's speeches.
How several great lords took the hint, and on the
same account declared for Martin; particularly one,
who not having enough of one wife wanted to
marry a second; and knowing Peter used not to
grant such licences but at a swinging price, he struck
up a bargain with Martin, whom he found more
tractable, and who assured him he had the same
power to allow such things. How most of the other
northern lords, for their own private ends, withdrew
themselves and their dependants from Peter's autho-
rity, and closed in with Martin. How Peter,
enraged at the loss of such large territories, and
consequently of so much revenuc, thundered against
Martin, and sent out the strongest and most terrible
of his bulls to devour him; but this having no effect,
and Martin defeuding himself boldly and dexter-
ously, Peter at last put forth proclamations, declar-
ing Martin and all his adherents rebels and traitors,
ordaining and requiring all his loving subjects to
take up arms, and to kill, burn, and destroy all and
every one of them, promising large rewards, &c
upon which ensued bloody wars and desolation.
How Harry Huff, lord of Albion, one of the
greatest bullies of those days, sent a cartel to Martin
to fight him on a stage, at cudgels, quarter-staff,
back-sword, &c. Hence the origin of that genteel
custom of prize-fighting, so well known and praç-
tised to this day among those polite islanders,
તે
IIenry VIII, s controversy with Luther in behalf of the pope.
1
71
THE HISTORY OF MARTIN.
123
was succeeded by a north-country farmer, who pre-
tended great skill in the managing of farms, though
he could never govern his own poor little farm, no.
yet this large new one after he got it. How this
new landlord, to show his valour and dexterity,
fought against enchanters, weeds, giants, and wind-
mills, and claimed great honour for his victories,
though he ofttimes b-sh-t bimself when there was no
danger. How his successor, no wiser than he, occa-
sioned great disorders by the new methods he took
to manage his farms. How he attempted to esta-
though unknown everywhere else. How Martin,
being a bold blustering fellow, accepted the chal-
lenge; how they met and fought, to the great diver-
sion of the spectators; and, after giving one another
broken heads and many bloody wounds and bruises,
how they both drew off victorious; in which their
example has been frequently imitated by great clerks
and others since that time. How Martin's friends
applauded his victory; and how lord Harry's friends
complimented him on the same score; and particu-
larly lord Peter, who sent him a fine feather for his
cap,ª to be worn by him and his successors as a per-blish, in his northern farm, the same dispensatory
petual mark for his bold defence of lord Peter's
cause. How Harry, flushed with his pretended
victory over Martin, began to huff Peter also, and at
last downright quarrelled with him about a wench.b
How some of lord Harry's tenants, ever fond of
changes, began to talk kindly of Martin, for which
he mauled them soundly; as he did also those that
adhered to Peter. How he turned some out of
house and hold, others he hanged or burnt, &c.
How Harry Huff, after a good deal of blustering,
wenching, and bullying, died, and was succeeded by
a good-natured boy [Edward VI.], who, giving way
to the general bent of his tenants, allowed Martin's
notions to spread everywhere and take deep root in
Albion. How, after his death, the farm fell into the
hands of a lady who was violently in love with lord
Peter [queen Mary]. How she purged the whole
country with fire and sword, resolved not to leave
the name or remembrance of Martin. How Peter
triumphed, and set up shops again for selling his
own powders, plasters, and salves, which were now
called the only true ones, Martin's being all declared
counterfeit. How great numbers of Martin's friends
left the country, and, travelling up and down in
foreign parts, grew acquainted with many of Jack's
followers, and took a liking to many of their notions
and ways, which they afterwards brought back into
Albion, now under another lady, more moderate
and more cunning than the former. How she en-
deavoured to keep friendship both with Peter and
Martin, and trimmed for some time between the
two, not without countenancing and assisting at the
same time many of Jack's followers; but, finding no
possibility of reconciling all the three brothers, be-
cause each would be master and allow no other
slaves, powders, or plasters to be used but his own,
she discarded all three, and set up a shop for those
of her own farm, well furnished with powders,
plasters, salves, and all other drugs necessary, all
right and true, composed according to receipts made
by physicians and apothecaries of her own creating,
which they extracted out of Peter's, and Martin's,
and Jack's receipt-books, and of this medley or
hodgepodge made up a dispensatory of their own;
strictly forbidding any other to be used, and particu-
larly Peter's, from which the greatest part of this
new dispensatory was stolen. How the lady, farther
to confirm this change, wisely imitating her father,
degraded Peter from the rank he pretended as
eldest brother, and set up herself in his place as
head of the family, and ever after wore her father's
old cap, with the fine feather he had got from Peter
for standing his friend; which has likewise been
worn with no small ostentation to this day by all her
successors, though declared enemies to Peter. How
lady Bess and her physicians, being told of many de-
fects and imperfections in their new medley dispensa-
tory, resolve on a farther alteration, and to purge it
from a great deal of Peter's trash that still remained
in it, but were prevented by her death. How she
0
"Defender of the Faith."
Henry VIII.'s love for Ann Bullen
used in the southern, but miscarried because Jack's
powders, pilis, salves, and plasters, were there in
great vogue.
How the author finds himself embarrassed for
having introduced into his history a new sect, differ-
ing from the three he had undertaken to treat of,
and how his inviolable respect to the sacred number
three obliges him to reduce these four, as he intends
to do all other things, to that number;ª and for that
end to drop the former Martin, and to substitute in
his place lady Bess's institution, which is to pass
under the name of Martin in the sequel of this true
history. This weighty point being cleared, the au-
thor goes on and describes mighty quarrels and
squabbles between Jack and Martin [great civil
war]; how sometimes the one had the better, and
sometimes the other, to the great desolation of both
farms, till at last both sides concur to hang up the
landlord, who pretended to die a martyr for Martin,
though he had been true to neither side, and was
suspected by many to have a great affection for
Peter.
A DIGRESSION ON THE NATURE, USE-
FULNESS, AND NECESSITY OF WARS
AND QUARRELS.
THIS being a matter of great consequence, the au-
thor intends to treat it methodically and at large in
a treatise apart, and here to give only some hints of
what his large treatise contains.
treatise contains. The state of war
natural to all creatures. War is an attempt to take
by violence from others a part of what they have and
we want. Every man fully sensible of his own merit,
and finding it not duly regarded by others, has a
natural right to take from them all that he thinks
due to himsen, and every creature, finding its own
wants more than those of others, has the same right
to take everything its nature requires. Brutes
much more modest in their pretensions this way
than men; and mean men more than great ones.
The higher one raises his pretensions this way, the
more bustle he makes about them; and the more
success he has, the greater hero. Thus greater souls,
in proportion to their superior merit, claim a greater
right to take everything from meaner folks. This
the true foundation of grandeur and heroism, and of
the distinction of degrees among men. War there-
fore necessary to establish subordination, and to
found cities, kingdoms, &c., as also to purge bodies
politic of gross humours. Wise princes find it ne-
cessary to have wars abroad, to keep peace at home.
War, famine, and pestilence, the usual cures for cor-
ruptions in bodies politic. A comparison of these
three. The author is to write a panegyric on each
of them. The greatest part of mankind loves war
more than peace. They are but few and mean-
spirited that live in peace with all men. The modest
and meek of all kinds always a prey to those of
more noble or stronger appetites. The inclination
to war universal: those that cannot, or dare not,
A
"A panegyrical Essay upon the number THRFF" is among
the treatises advertised at the beginning of the Tale of a Tub.
124
THE HISTORY OF MARTIN.-A PROJECT, ETC.
make war in person, employ others to do it for them.
This maintains bullies, bravoes, cut-throats, lawyers,
soldiers, &c. Most professions would be useless if
all were peaceable. Hence brutes want neither
smith nor lawyers, magistrates nor joiners, soldiers
nor surgeons. Brutes, having but narrow appetites,
are incapable of carrying on or perpetuating war
against their own species, or of being led out in
troops and multitudes to destroy one another. These
prerogatives proper to man alone. The excellency
of human nature demonstrated by the vast train of
appetites, passions, wants, &c., that attend it. This
matter to be more fully treated in the author's Pane-
gyric on Mankind.
THE HISTORY OF MARTIN (CONTINUEd).
How Jack, having got rid of the old landlord, set
up another to his mind [Cromwell], quarrelled with
Martin, and turned him out of doors. How he pil-
laged all his shops, and abolished the whole dispensa-
tory. How the new landlord laid about him,
mauled Peter, worried Martin, and made the whole
neighbourhood tremble. How Jack's friends fell
out among themselves, split into a thousand parties,
turned all things topsy turvy, till everybody grew
weary of them; and at last, the blustering landlord
dying, Jack was kicked out of doors, a new landlord
brought in, and Martin re-established [Restoration].
How this new landlord let Martin do what he
pleased, and Martin agreed to everything his pious
landlord desired, provided Jack might be kept low.
Of several efforts Jack made to raise up his head,
but all in vain; till at last the landlord died, and
was succeeded by one who was a great friend to
Peter, who, to humble Martin, gave Jack some
liberty. How Martin grew enraged at this, called
in a foreigner, and turned out the landlord; in
which Jack concurred with Martin, because this
landlord was entirely devoted to Peter, into whose
arms he threw himself, and left his country [Revo-
lution]. How the new landlord secured Martiu in
the full possession of his former rights, but would
not allow him to destroy Jack, who had always been
his friend. How Jack got up his head in the north,
and put himself in possession of a whole canton,b
to the great discontent of Martin, who, finding also
that some of Jack's friends were allowed to live and
get their bread in the south parts of the country,
grew highly discontent with the new landlord he
had called in to his assistance. How this landlord
kept Martin in order, upon which he fell into a
raging fever, and swore he would hang himself or
join in with Peter, unless Jack's children were all
turned out to starve." Of several attempts made to
cure Martin, and make peace between him and Jack,
that they might unite against Peter; but all made in-
effectual by the great address of a number of Peter's
friends, that herded among Martin's, and appeared the
most zealous for his interest. How Martin, getting
abroad in this mad fit, looked so like Peter in his
air and dress, and talked so like him, that many of
the neighbours could not distinguish the one from
the other; especially when Martin went up and
down strutting in Peter's armour, which he had bor-
rowed to fight Jack. What remedies were used to
cure Martin's distemper.
*
Here the author being seized with a fit of dulness,
(to which he is very subject,) after having read a
poetical epistle addressed to ***, it entirely com-
posed his senses, so that he has not writ a line since.
N.B. Some things that follow after this are not in
Indulgences to sectaries. b Presbytery in Scotland.
Clamour that the church was in danger.
the MS., but seem to have been written since, to
fill up the place of what was not thought convenient
then to print.
A PROJECT FOR THE UNIVERSAL
BENEFIT OF MANKIND.
THE author, having laboured so long, and done so
much, to serve and instruct the public, without any
advantage to himself, has at last thought of a project
which will tend to the great benefit of all mankind
and produce a handsome revenue to the author. He
intends to print by subscription, in 96 large volumes
in folio, an exact description of Terra Australis in-
cognita, collected with great care and pains from 999
learned and pious authors of undoubted veracity.
The whole work, illustrated with maps and cuis
agreeable to the subject, and done by the best mas-
ters, will cost but one guinea each volume to sub-
scribers; one guinea to be paid in advance, and
afterwards a guinea on receiving each volume, ex-
cept the last. This work will be of great use for all
men, and necessary for all families, because it con-
tains exact accounts of all the provinces, colonies,
and mansions of that spacious country, where, by
a general doom, all transgressors of the law are to
be transported; and every one having this work may
choose out the fittest and best place for himself,
there being enough for all, so as every one shall be
fully satisfied.
The author supposes that one copy of this work
will be bought at the public charge, or out of the
parish-rates, for every parish-church in the three
kingdoms, and in all the dominions thereunto be-
longing; and that every family that can command
ten pounds per annum, even though retrenched from
less necessary expenses, will subscribe for one. He
does not think of giving out above nine volumes
yearly; and considering the number requisite, he
intends to print at least 100,000 for the first edition.
He is to print proposals against next term, with a
specimen, and a curious map of the capital city, with
its twelve gates, from a known author, who took an
exact survey of it in a dream. Considering the
great care and pains of the author, and the useful-
ness of the work, he hopes every one will be ready,
for their own good as well as his, to contribute.
cheerfully to it, and not grudge him the profit he
may have by it, especially if it comes to a third or
fourth edition, as he expects it will very soon.
He doubts not but it will be translated into fo-
reign languages by most nations of Europe, as well
as of Asia and Africa, being of as great use to all
those nations as to his own; for this reason, he de-
signs to procure patents and privileges for securing
the whole benefit to himself from all those different
princes and states; and hopes to see many millions
of this great work printed, in those different coun-
tries and languages, before his death.
After this business is pretty well established, he
has promised to put a friend on another project,
almost as good as this, by establishing insurance-
offices everywhere for securing people from ship-
wreck and several other accidents in their voyage to
this country; and these offices shall furnish, at a
certain rate, pilots well versed in the route, and that
know all the rocks, shelves, quicksands, &c., that
such pilgrims and travellers may be exposed to. Of
these he knows a great number ready instructed in
most countries: but the whole scheme of this mat-
ter he is to draw up at large and communicate to his
friend.
Here ends the manuscript.
125
A FULI. AND TRUE ACCOUNT
OF THE
BATTLE FOUGHT LAST FRIDAY BETWEEN THE ANCIENT
AND THE MODERN BOOKS
IN SAINT JAMES'S LIBRARY.
THE BOOKSELLER TO THE READER.
THE following discourse, as it is unquestionably of
the same author, so it seems to have been written
about the same time, with the former; I mean the
year 1697, when the famous dispute was on foot
about ancient and modern learning. The contro-
versy took its rise from an essay of sir William
Temple's upon that subject; which was answered
by W. Wotton, B. D., with an appendix by Dr.
Bentley, endeavouring to destroy the credit of Esop
and Phalaris for authors, whom sir William Temple
had, in the essay before mentioned, highly com-
mended.
war is the child of pride, and pride the daughter of
riches: the former of which assertions may be soon
granted, but one cannot so easily subscribe to the
latter; for pride is nearly related to beggary and
want, either by father or mother, and sometimes by
both; and, to speak naturally, it very seldom hap-
pens among men to fall out when all have enough;
invasions usually travelling from north to south,
that is to say, from poverty to plenty. The most
ancient and natural grounds of quarrels are lust and
avarice; which, though we may allow to be brethren,
or collateral branches of pride, are certainly the is-
sues of want.
In that appendix the doctor falls hard
upon a new edition of Phalaris, put out by the
honourable Charles Boyle, now earl of Orrery, to
which Mr. Boyle replied at large with great learning
and wit; and the doctor voluminously rejoined.
In this dispute the town highly resented to see a
person of sir William Temple's character and merits
roughly used by the two reverend gentlemen afore-
said, and without any manner of provocation. At
length, there appearing no end of the quarrel, our
author tells us that the BOOKS in St. James's
Library, looking upon themselves as parties princi-
pally concerned, took up the controversy, and came
to a decisive battle; but the manuscript, by the in-
jury of fortune or weather, beingin several places im-
perfect, we cannot learn to which side the victory fell.
I must warn the reader to beware of applying to
persons what is here meant only of books, in the
most literal sense. So, when Virgil is mentioned,
we are not to understand the person of a famous
poet called by that name; but only certain sheets of
paper bound up in leather, containing in print the
works of the said poet; and so of the rest.
THE PREFACE OF THE AUTHOR.
SATIRE is a sort of glass wherein beholders do ge-
nerally discover everybody's face but their own;
which is the chief reason for that kind reception it
meets with in the world, and that so very few are
offended with it. But, if it should happen other-
wise, the danger is not great; and I have learned
from long experience never to apprehend mischief
from those understandings I have been able to pro-
voke: for anger and fury, though they add strength
to the sinews of the body, yet are found to relax
those of the mind, and to render all its efforts feeble
and impotent.
There is a brain that will endure but one scum-
ming; let the owner gather it with discretion, and
manage his little stock with husbandry; but, of all
things, let him beware of bringing it under the lash
of his betters, because that will make it all bubble
up into impertinence, and he will find no new supply.
Wit without knowledge being a sort of cream,
which gathers in a night to the top, and by a skilful
hand may be soon whipped into froth, but once
scummed away, what appears underneath will be
fit for nothing but to be thrown to the hogs.
A FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT, ETC.
WHOEVER examines, with due circumspection, into
the annual records of time, will find it remarked that
For, to speak in the phrase of writers
upon politics, we may observe in the republic of
dogs, which in its original seems to be an insti-
tution of the many, that the whole state is ever in
the profoundest peace after a full meal; and that
civil broils arise among them when it happens for
one great bone to be seized on by some leading dog,
who either divides it among the few, and then it falls
to an oligarchy, or keeps it to himself, and then it
runs up to a tyranny. The same reasoning also
holds place among them in those dissensions we be-
hold upon a turgescency in any of their females.
For the right of possession lying in common, (it be-
ing impossible to establish a property in so delicate
a case,) jealousies and suspicions do so abound, that
the whole commonwealth of that street is reduced
to a manifest state of war, of every citizen against
every citizen, till some one of more courage, con-
duct, or fortune than the rest seizes and enjoys the
prize: upon which naturally arises plenty of heart-
burning, and envy, and snarling against the happy
dog.
dog. Again if we look upon any of these republics
engaged in a foreign war, either of invasion or de-
fence, we shall find the same reasoning will serve as
to the grounds and occasions of each; and that
poverty or want, in some degree or other, (whether
real or in opinion, which makes no alteration in the
case,) has a great share, as well as ride, on the part
of the aggressor.
But
Now, whoever will please to take this scheme,
and either reduce or adapt it to an intellectual state
or commonwealth of learning, will soon discover the
first ground of disagreement between the two great
parties at this time in arms, and may form just
conclusions upon the merits of either cause.
the issue or events of this war are not so easy to
conjecture at; for the present quarrel is so inflamed
by the warm heads of either faction, and the preten-
sions somewhere or other so exorbitant, as not to
admit the least overtures of accommodation. This
quarrel first began, as I have heard it affirmed by an
old dweller in the neighbourhood, about a small
spot of ground, lying and being upon one of the two
tops of the hill Parnassus; the highest and largest
of which had, it seems, been time out of mind in
quiet possession of certain tenants, called the An-
cients; and the other was held by the Moderns.
But these, disliking their present station, sent cer-
tain ambassadors to the ancients, complaining of a
great nuisance; how the height of that part of Par-
nassus quite spoiled the prospect of theirs, especially
toward the east; and therefore, to avoid a war,
126
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS
offered them the choice of this alternative, either that
the ancients would please to remove themselves and
their effects down to the lower summit, which the
moderns would graciously surrender to them, and ad-
vance into their place; or else the said ancients will
give leave to the moderns to come with shovels and
mattocks, and level the said hill as low as they shall
think it convenient. To which the ancients made
answer, how little they expected such a message as
this from a colony whom they had admitted, out of
their own free grace, to so near a neighbourhood.
That, as to their own seat, they were aborigines of
it, and therefore to talk with them of a removal or
surrender was a language they did not understand.
That if the height of the hill on their side shortened
the prospect of the moderns, it was a disadvantage
they could not help; but desired them to consider
whether that injury (if it be any) were not largely
recompensed by the shade and shelter it afforded
them. That as to the levelling or digging down, it
was either folly or ignorance to propose it if they
did or did not know how that side of the hill was an
entire rock, which would break their tools and
hearts, without any damage to itself. That they
would therefore advise the moderns rather to raise
their own side of the hill than dream of pulling down
that of the ancients; to the former of which they
would not only give licence, but also largely contri-
bute. All this was rejected by the moderns with
much indignation, who still insisted upon one of the
two expedients; and so this difference broke out
into a long and obstinate war, maintained on the
one part by resolution, and by the courage of cer-
tain leaders and allies; but, on the other, by the
greatness of their number, upon all defeats affording
continual recruits. In this quarrel whole rivulets of
ink have been exhausted, and the virulence of both
parties enormously augmented. Now, it must be
here understood that ink is the great missive weapon
in all battles of the learned, which, conveyed through
a sort of engine called a quill, infinite numbers of
these are darted at the enemy by the valiant on
each side, with equal skill and violence, as if it were
an engagement of porcupines. This malignant liquor
was compounded, by the engineer who invented it,
of two ingredients, which are, gall and copperas; by
its bitterness and venom to suit, in some degree, as
well as to foment, the genius of the combatants.
And as the Grecians, after an engagement, when
they could not agree about the victory, were wont
to set up trophies on both sides, the beaten party
being content to be at the same expense, to keep it-
self in countenance, (a laudable and ancient custom,
happily revived of late in the art of war,) so the
learned, after a sharp and bloody dispute, do, on
both sides, hang out their trophies too, whichever
comes by the worst. These trophies have largely
inscribed on them the merits of the cause; a full im-
partial account of such a battle, and how the victory
fell clearly to the party that set them up. They are
known to the world under several names; as disputes,
arguments, rejoinders, brief considerations, answers,
replies, remarks, reflections, objections, confuta-
tions. For a very few days they are fixed up in all
public places, either by themselves or their repre-
sentatives, for passengers to gaze at; whence the
chiefest and largest are removed to certain magazines
they call libraries, there to remain in a quarter pur-
posely assigned them, and thenceforth begin to be
called books of controversy.
other cemetries; where some philosophers affirm
that a certain spirit, which they call brutum hominis,
hovers over the monument, till the body is cor-
rupted and turns to dust or to worms, but then
vanishes or dissolves; so, we may say, a restless
spirit haunts over every book, till dust or worms
have seized upon it; which to some may happen in
a few days, but to others later: and therefore books
of controversy, being, of all others, haunted by the
most disorderly spirits, have always been confined
in a separate lodge from the rest; and for fear of a
mutual violence against each other, it was thought
prudent by our ancestors to bind them to the
peace
with strong iron chains. Of which invention the
original occasion was this: When the works of
Scotus first came out, they were carried to a certain
library, and had lodgings appointed them; but this
author was no sooner settled than he went to visit
his master Aristotle; and there both concerted toge-
ther to seize Plato by main force, and turn him out
froin his ancient station among the divines, where
he had peaceably dwelt near eight hundred years.
The attempt succeeded, and the two usurpers have
reigned ever since in his stead: but, to maintain
quiet for the future, it was decreed that all polemics
of the larger size should be held fast with a chain.
By this expedient the public peace of libraries
might certainly have been preserved if a new spe-
cies of controversial books had not arisen of late
years, instinct with a more malignant spirit, from
the war above mentioned between the learned about
the higher summit of Parnassus.
When these books were first admitted into the
public libraries, I remember to have said, upon oc-
casion, to several persons concerned, how I was sure
they would create broils wherever they came, un-
less a world of care were taken: and therefore I ad-
vised that the champions of each side should be
coupled together, or otherwise mixed, that, like the
blending of contrary poisons, their malignity might
be employed among themselves. And it seems 1
was neither an ill prophet nor an ill counsellor; for
it was nothing else but the neglect of this caution.
which gave occasion to the terrible fight that hap-
pened on Friday last between the ancient and mo-
dern books in the king's library. Now, because the
talk of this battle is so fresh in everybody's mouth,
and the expectation of the town so great to be in-
formed in the particulars, I, being possessed of ali
qualifications requisite in an historian, and retained
by neither party, have resolved to comply with the
urgent importunity of my friends, by writing down a
full impartial account thereof.
The guardian of the regal library,a a person of
great valour, but chiefly renowned for his humanity,
had been a fierce champion for the moderns; and,
in an engagement upon Parnassus, had vowed,
with his own hands to knock down two of the an-
cient chiefs, who guarded a small pass on the supe-
rior rock; but, endeavouring to climb up, was
cruelly obstructed by his own unhappy weight and
tendency towards his centre; a quality to which
those of the modern party are extremely subject;
for, being light-headed, they have, in speculation, a
wonderful agility, and conceive nothing too high for
them to mount; but, in reducing to practice, disco-
ver a mighty pressure about their posteriors and
their heels. Having thus failed in his design, the
disappointed champion bore a cruel rancour to the
ancients; which he resolved to gratify by showing
all marks of his favour to the books of their adver-
In these books is wonderfully instilled and pre-
served the spirit of each warrior while he is alive;saries, and lodging them in the fairest apartments;
and after his death his soul transmigrates thither to
inform them. This at least is the more common
opinion; but I believe it is with libraries as with
a The honourable Mr. Boyle, in the preface to his edition
of Phalaris, says he was refused a MS. by the library-keeper,
Dr. Bentley the two ancients were Phalaris and Isop.
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
127
when, at the same time, whatever book had the
boldness to own itself for an advocate of the ancients
was buried alive in some obscure corner, and threat-
ened, upon the least displeasure, to be turned out
of doors. Besides, it so happened that about this
time there was a strange confusion of place among
all the books in the library; for which several rea-
sons were assigned. Some imputed
Some imputed it to a great
heap of learned dust, which a perverse wind blew
off from a shelf of moderns into the keeper's eyes.
Others affirmed he had a humour to pick the worms
out of the schoolmen, and swallow them fresh and
fasting; whereof some fell upon his spleen, and
some climed up into his head, to the great perturba-
tion of both. And lastly, others maintained that,
by walking much in the dark about the library, he
had quite lost the situation of it out of his bead;
and therefore, in replacing his books, he was apt to
mistake, and clap Des Cartes next to Aristotle ; poor
Plato had got between Hobbes and the Seven Wise
Masters, and Virgil was hemmed in with Dryden on
one side and Withers on the other.
Meanwhile those books that were advocates for
the moderns chose out one from among them to
make a progress through the whole library, examine
the number and strength of their party, and concert
their affairs. This messenger performed all things
very industriously, and brought back with him a list
of their forces, in all, fifty thousand, consisting
chiefly of light-horse, heavy-armed foot, and mer-
cenaries; whereof the foot were in general but
sorrily armed and worse clad; their horses large,
but extremely out of case and heart; however, some
few, by trading among the ancients, had furnished
themselves tolerably enough.
While things were in this ferment, discord grew
extremely high; hot words passed on both sides,
and ill blood was plentifully bred. Here a solitary
ancient, squeezed up among a whole shelf of mo-
derns, offered fairly to dispute the case, and to prove
by manifest reason that the priority was due to
them from long possession, and in regard of their
prudence, antiquity, and, above all, their great
merits toward the moderns. But these denied the
premises, and seemed very much to wonder how
the ancients could pretend to insist upon their anti-
quity, when it was so plain (if they went to that)
that the moderns were much the more ancient of
the two. As for any obligations they owed to the
ancients, they renounced them all. It is true, said
they, we are informed some few of our party have
been so mean to borrow their subsistence from you;
but the rest, infinitely the greater number, (and
especially we French and English,) were so far
from stooping to so base an example, that there
never passed, till this very hour, six words between
us. For our horses were of our own breeding, our
arms of our own forging, and our clothes of our own
cutting out and sewing. Plato was by chance up on
the next shelf, and observing those that spoke to be
in the ragged plight mentioned a while ago; their
jades lean and foundered, their weapons of rotten
wood, their armour rusty, and nothing but rags
underneath; he laughed loud, and in his pleasant
way swore, by he believed them.
Now, the moderns had not proceeded in their late
negotiation with secrecy enough to escape the notice
of the enemy. For those advocates who had begun
the quarrel, by setting first on foot the dispute of
precedency, talked so loud of coming to a battle,
that sir William Temple a happened to overhear
them, and gave immediate intelligence to the an-
cients; who thereupon drew up their scattered
troops together, resolving to act upon the defensive;
• The allies who espoused the cause of ancient learning.
|
upon which, several of the macderns fled over to
their party, and among the rest Temple himself.
This Temple, having been educated and long con-
versed among the ancients, was, of all the moderns,
their greatest favourite, and became their greatest
champion.
Things were at this crisis when a material acci-
dent fell out. For upon the highest corner of a
large window there dwelt a certain spider, swollen
up to the first magnitude by the destruction of infi-
nite numbers of flies, whose spoils lay scattered be-
fore the gates of his palace, like human bones
before the cave of some giant. The avenues to his
castle were guarded with turnpikes and palisadoes,
all after the modern way of fortification. After
After you
had passed several courts you came to the centre,
wherein you might behold the constable himself in
his own lodgings, which had windows fronting to
each avenue, and ports to sally out upon all occa-
sions of prey or defence. In this mansion he had
for some time dwelt in peace and plenty, without
danger to his person by swallows from above, or to
his palace by brooms from below: when it was the
pleasure of fortune to conduct thither a wandering
bee, to whose curiosity a broken pane in the glass
had discovered itself, and in he went; where, expa-
tiating a while, he at last happened to alight upon
one of the outward walls of the spider's citadel;
which, yielding to the unequal weight, sunk down
to the very foundation. Thrice he endeavoured to
force his passage, and thrice the centre shook. The
spider within, feeling the terrible convulsion, sup-
posed at first that nature was approaching to her
final dissolution; or else, that Beelzebub, with all
his legions, was come to revenge the death of many
thousands of his subjects whom his enemy had slain
and devoured. However, he at length valiantly re-
solved to issue forth and meet his fate. Meanwhile
the bee had acquitted himself of his toils, and,
posted securely at some distance, was employed in
cleansing his wings, and disengaging them from the
ragged remnants of the cobweb. By this time the
spider was adventured out, when, beholding the
chasms, the ruins, and dilapidations of his fortress,
he was very near at his wits' end; he stormed and
swore like a madman, and swelled till he was ready
to burst. At length, casting his eye upon the bee,
and wisely gathering causes from events, (for they
knew each other by sight,) A plague split you, said
he, for a giddy son of a whore; is it you, with a
vengeance, that have made this litter here? could
not you look before you, and be d-d? do you think
I have nothing else to do (in the devil's name) but
to mend and repair after your arse ?-Good words,
friend, said the bee (having now pruned himself,
and being disposed to droll): I'll give you my hand
and word to come near your kennel no more; I was
never in such a confounded pickle since I was born.
-Sirrah, replied the spider, if it were not for
breaking an old custom in our family, never to stir
abroad against an enemy, I should come and teach
you better manners.-I pray have patience, said the
bee, or you'll spend your substance, and, for aught I
see, you may stand in need of it all, toward the re-
pair of your house.-Rogue, rogue, replied the
spider, yet methinks you should have more respect
to a person whom all the world allows to be so
much your betters.-By my troth, said the bee,
the comparison will amount to a very good jest;
and you will do me a favour to let me know the
reasons that all the world is pleased to use in so
hopeful a dispute. At this the spider, having swelled
himself into the size and posture of a disputant, be
gan his argument in the true spirit of controversy,
with resolution to be heartily scurrilous and angry
128
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
to urge on his own reasons, without the least regard
to the answers or objections of his opposite; and
fully predetermined in his mind against all conviction.
Not to disparage myself, said he, by the comparison
with such a rascal, what art thou but a vagabond
without house or home, without stock or inherit-
ance? born to no possession of your own, but a pair
of wings and a drone-pipe. Your livelihood is a
universal plunder upon nature; a freebooter over
fields and gardens; and, for the sake of stealing,
will rob a nettle as easily as a violet. Whereas I
am a domestic animal, furnished with a native stock
within myself. This large castle (to show my im-
provements in the mathematics) is all built with
my own hands, and the materials extracted alto-
gether out of my own person.
I am glad, answered the bee, to hear you grant at
least that I am come honestly by my wings and my
voice; for then, it seems, I am obliged to Heaven
alone for my flights and my music; and Providence
would never have bestowed on me two such gifts,
without designing them for the noblest ends. I visit
indeed all the flowers and blossoms of the field and
garden; but whatever I collect thence enriches my-
self, without the least injury to their beauty, their
smell, or their taste. Now, for you and your skill
skill
in architecture and other mathematics, I have little
to say in that building of yours there might, for
aught I know, have been labour and method
enough; but, by woful experience for us both, it is
too plain the materials are naught; and I hope you
will henceforth take warning, and consider duration
and matter, as well as method and art. You boast
indeed of being obliged to no other creature, but of
drawing and spinning out all from yourself; that is
to say, if we may judge of the liquor in the vessel
by what issues out, you possess a good plentiful
store of dirt and poison in your breast; and, though |
I would by no means lessen or disparage your
genuine stock of either, yet I doubt you are some-
what obliged, for an increase of both, to a little
foreign assistance. Your inherent portion of dirt
does not fail of acquisitions, by sweepings exhaled
from below; and one insect furnishes you with a
share of poison to destroy another. So that, in
short, the question comes all to this; whether is the
nobler being of the two, that which, by a lazy con-
templation of four inches round, by an overweening
pride, feeding and engendering on itself, turns all
into excrement and venom, producing nothing at all
but flybane and a cobweb; or that which, by a
universal range, with long search, much study, true
judgment, and distinction of things, brings home
honey and wax.
This dispute was managed with such eagerness,
clamour, and warmth, that the two parties of books,
in arms below, stood silent a while, waiting in sus-
pense what would be the issue; which was not long
undetermined: for the bee, grown impatient at so
much loss of time, fled straight away to a bed of
roses, without looking for a reply, and left the
spider, like an orator, collected in himself, and just
prepared to burst out.
It happened upon this emergency that Æsop broke
silence first. He had been of late most barbarously
treated by a strange effect of the regent's humanity,
who had torn off his title-page, sorely defaced one
half of his leaves, and chained him fast among a
shelf of moderns. Where, soon discovering how
high the quarrel was likely to proceed, he tried all
his arts, and turned himself to a thousand forms.
At length, in the borrowed shape of an ass, the
regent mistook him for a modern; by which means
he had time and opportunity to escape to the ancients,
a Trged by those who contended for the excellence of modern
learning.
|
|
con.
just when the spider and the bee were entering inte
their contest; to which he gave his attention with a
world of pleasure, and, when it was ended, swore
in the loudest key that in all his life he had never
| known two cases so parallel and adapt to each other
as that in the window and this upon the shelves.
The disputants, said he, have admirably managed
the dispute between them, have taken in the full
strength of all that is to be said on both sides, and
exhausted the substance of every argument pro and
It is but to adjust the reasonings of both to
the present quarrel, then to compare and apply the
labours and fruits of each, as the bee has learnedly
deduced them, and we shall find the conclusion tall
plain and close upon the moderns and us.
For pray,
gentlemen, was ever anything so modern as the
spider in his air, his turns, and his paradoxes! he
argues in the behalf of you his brethren and him-
self with many boastings of his native stock and
great genius; that he spins and spits wholly from
himself, and scorus to own any obligation or assist-
ance from without. Then he displays to you his
great skill in architecture and improvement in the
mathematics. To all this the bee, as an advocate
retained by us the ancients, thinks fit to answer,
that, if one may judge of the great genius or inven-
tions of the moderns by what they have produced,
you will hardly have countenance to bear you out in
boasting of either. Erect your schemes with as
much method and skill as you please; yet, if the
materials be nothing but dirt, spun out of your own
entrails (the guts of modern brains), the edifice will
conclude at last in a cobweb; the duration of which,
like that of other spiders' webs, may be imputed to
their being forgotten, or neglected, or hid in a corner.
For anything else of genuine that the moderns may
pretend to, I cannot recollect; unless it be a large
vein of wrangling and satire, much of a nature and
substance with the spider's poison; which, however
they pretend to spit wholly out of themselves, is im-
proved by the same arts, by feeding upon the insects
and vermin of the age. As for us the ancients, we are
content, with the bee, to pretend to nothing of our
own beyond our wings and our voice: that is to say,
our flights and our language. For the rest, what-
ever we have got has been by infinite labour and
search, and ranging through every corner of nature;
the difference is, that, instead of dirt and poison, we
have rather chosen to fill our hives with honey and
wax; thus furnishing mankind with the two noblest
of things, which are sweetness and light.
the
It is wonderful to conceive the tumult arisen
among the books upon the close of this long descant
of Esop: both parties took the hint, and heightened
their animosities so on a sudden, that they resolved
it should come to a battle. Immediately the two
main bodies withdrew, under their several ensigus,
to the farther parts of the library, and there entered
into cabals and consults upon the present emergency.
The moderns were in very warm debates upon
choice of their leaders; and nothing less than the
fear impending from their enemies could have kept
them from mutinies upon this occasion. The differ-
ence was greatest among the horse, where every pri-
vate trooper pretended to the chief conimand, from
Tasso and Milton to Dryden and Withers. The light-
horse were commanded by Cowley and Despreaux.b
There came the bowmen under their valiaut leaders,
Des Cartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes; whose strength
was such that they could shoot their arrows beyond
the atmosphere, never to fall down again, but turn
like that of Evander, into meteors; or, like the
"The epic poets were full-armed horsemen; the lyrical bards
light-horse.
More commonly known by the name of Boileau.
The philosophers, whether physical or metaphysical.
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
128
cannon-ball, into stars.
Paracelsus brought a squa-
dron of stinkpot-flingers from the snowy mountains
of Rhætia. There came a vast body of dragoons, of
aifferent nations, under the leading of Harvey, their
great aga: part armed with scythes, the weapons of
death; part with lances and long knives, all steeped
in poison; part shot bullets of a most malignant
nature, and used white powder, which infallibly
killed without report. There came several bodies of
heavy-armed foot, all mercenaries, under the ensigns
of Guicciardini, Davila, Polydore Virgil, Buchanan,
Mariana, Camden, and others. The engineers were
commanded by Regiomontanus and Wilkins. The rest
was a confused multitude, led by Scotus, Aquinas,
and Bellarmine; of mighty bulk and stature, but with-
out either arms, courage, or discipline. In the last
place came infinite swarms of calones, a disorderly
rout led by L'Estrange; rogues and ragamuffins,
that follow the camp for nothing but the plunder, all
without coats to cover them.
The army of the ancients was much fewer in
number; Homer led the horse, and Pinder the light-
horse; Euclid was chief engineer; Plato and Aris-
totle commanded the bowmen; Herodotus and Livy
the foot; Hippocrates the dragoons; the allies, led
by Vossius and Temple, brought up the rear.
All things violently tending to a decisive battle,
Fame, who much frequented, and had a large apart-
ment formerly assigned her in the regal library, fled
up straight to Jupiter, to whom she delivered a faith-
ful account of all that passed between the two parties
below; for among the gods she always tells truth.
Jove, in great concern, convokes a council in the
milky way.
The senate assembled, he declares the
occasion of convening them; a bloody battle just
impendent between two mighty armies of ancient
and modern creatures, called books, wherein the
celestial interest was but too deeply concerned.
Momus,d the patron of the moderns, made an excel-
lent speech in their favour, which was answered by
Pallas, the protectress of the ancients. The assem-
bly was divided in their affections; when Jupiter
commanded the book of fate to be laid before him.
Iminediately were brought by Mercury three large
volumes in folio, containing memoirs of all things
past, present, and to come. The clasps were of silver
double gilt, the covers of celestial turkey leather,
and the paper such as here on earth might pass almost
for vellum. Jupiter, having silently read the decree,
would communicate the import to none, but presently
shut up the book.
Without the doors of this assembly there attended
a vast number of light, nimble gods, menial servants
to Jupiter: these are his ministering instruments in
all affairs below. They travel in a caravan, more or
less together, and are fastened to each other, like a
link of galley-slaves, by a light chain, which passes
from them to Jupiter's great toe and yet, in re-
ceiving or delivering a message, they may never
approach above the lowest step of his throne, where
he and they whisper to each other through a large
hollow trunk. These deities are called by mortal
men accidents or events; but the gods call them
second causes. Jupiter having delivered his message
to a certain number of these divinities, they flew
immediately down to the pinnacle of the regal library,
a
a
Harvey, who discovered the circulation of the blood,
discovery much insisted on by the advocates for the moderns,
and excepted against as doubtful or erroneous by sir W. Temple.
b Calones. By calling this disorderly rout calones, the
author points both his sathe and contempt againt all sorts of
mercenary scribblers. Sir Roger L'Estrange was distinguished
by his activity in this dirty warfare in the reigns of Charles
11. and James.
These are pamphlets, which are not bound or covered.
d. On account of the superiority claimed for them in works of
huniour.
VOL. I.
|
|
|
and consulting a few minutes, entered anseen, and
disposed the parties according to their crders.
Meanwhile Momus, fearing the worst, and calling
to mind an ancient prophecy which bore no very
good face to his children the moderus, bent his flight
to the region of a malignant deity called Criticism.
She dwelt on the top of a snowy mountain in Nova
Zembla; there Momus found her extended in her
den, upon the spoils of numberless volumes, half
devoured. At her right hand sat Ignorance, her
father and husband, blind with age; at her left,
Pride, her mother, dressing her up in the scraps
of paper herself had torn. There was Opinion,
her sister, light of foot, hood-winked, and head-
About
strong, yet giddy and perpetually turning.
her played her children, Noise and Impudence,
Dulness and Vanity, Positiveness, Pedantry, and
Ill-manners. The goddess herself had claws like a
cat; her head, and ears, and voice, resembled those
of an ass; her teeth fallen out before, her eyes
turned inward, as if she looked only upon herself;
her diet was the overflowing of her own gall; her
spleen was so large as to stand prominent, like a
dug of the first rate; nor wanted excrescencies in
form of teats, at which a crew of ugly monsters were
greedily sucking; and, what is wonderful to con-
ceive, the bulk of spleen increased faster than the
sucking could diminish it. Goddess, said Momus,
can you sit idly here while our devout worshippers,
the moderns, are this minute entering into a cruel
battle, and perhaps now lying under the swords of
their enemies? who then hereafter will ever sacrifice
or build altars to our divinities? Haste, therefore,
to the British isle, and, if possible, prevent their
destruction; while I make factions among the gods,
and gain them over to our party.
Momus, having thus delivered himself, staid not
for an answer, but left the goddess to her own re-
sentment. Up she rose in a rage, and, as it is the
form upon such occasions, began a soliloquy: It is I
(said she) who give wisdom to infants and idiots;
by me children grow wiser than their parents,
by me beaux become politicians, and schoolboys
judges of philosophy; by me sophisters debate and
conclude upon the depths of knowledge; and
coffeehouse wits, instinct by me, can correct an
author's style, and display his minutest errors, with-
out understanding a syllable of his matter or his
language; by me striplings spend their judgment,
as they do their estate, before it comes into their
hands. It is I who have deposed wit and knowledge
from their empire over poetry, and advanced myself
in their stead. And shall a few upstart ancients
dare to oppose me?-But come, my aged parent, and
you, my children dear, and thou, my beauteous
sister; let us ascend my chariot, and haste to assist
our devout moderns, who are now sacrificing to us
a hecatomb, as I perceive by that grateful smell
which from thence reaches my nostrils.
The goddess and her train, having mounted the
chariot, which was drawn by tame geese, flew over
infinite regions, shedding her influence in due places,
till at length she arrived at her beloved island of
Britain; but in hovering over its metropolis, what
blessings did she not let fall upon her seminaries of
Gresham and Covent-garden! And now she reached
the fatal plain of St. James's library, at what time
the two armies were upon the point to engage;
where, entering with all her caravan unseen, and
landing upon a case of shelves, now desert, but once
inhabited by a colony of virtuosoes, she staid a while
to observe the posture of both armies.
But here the tender cares of a mother began to fill
her thoughts and move in her breast: for at the head
of a troop of modern bowmen she cast her eyes upon
K
•
130
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
her son Wotton, to whom the fates had assigned a
very short thread. Wotton, a young hero, whom an
unknown father of mortal race begot by stolen em-
braces with this goddess. He was the darling of
his mother above all her children, and she resolved
to go and comfort him. But first, according to the
good old custom of deities, she cast about to change
her shape, for fear the divinity of her countenance
might dazzle his mortal sight and overcharge the rest
f his senses. She therefore gathered up her person
into an octavo compass her body grew white and
arid, and split in pieces with dryness; the thick
turned into pasteboard, and the thin into paper;
upon which her parents and children artfully strewed
a black juice, or decoction of gall and soot, in form
of letters: her head, and voice, and spleen, kept
their primitive form; and that which before was a
cover of skin did still continue so. In this guise
she marched on towards the moderns, undistinguish-
able in shape and dress from the divine Bentley,
Wotton's dearest friend. Brave Wotton, said the
goddess, why do our trops stand idle here, to spend
their present vigour and opportunity of the day?
away, let us haste to the generals, and advise to give
the onset immediately. Having spoke thus, she
took the ugliest of her monsters, full glutted from her
spleen, and flung it invisibly into his mouth, which,
flying straight up into his head, squeezed out his
eye-balls, gave him a distorted look, and half over-
turned his brain. Then she privately ordered two
of her beloved children, Dulness and Ill-manners,
closely to attend his person in all encounters.
Having thus accoutred him, she vanished in a
mist, and the hero perceived it was the goddess his
mother.
The destined hour of fate being now arrived, the
fight began; whereof, before I dare adventure to
make a particular description, I must, after the
example of other authors, petition for a hundred
tongues, and mouths, and hands, and pens, which
would all be too little to perform so immense a
work. Say, goddess, that presidest over history,
who it was that first advanced in the field of battle!
Paracelsus, at the head of his dragoons, observing
Galen in the adverse wing, darted his javelin with a
mighty force, which the brave ancient received upon
his shield, the point breaking in the second fold.
*
*
*
Hic pauca
desunt.
They bore the wounded agaª on their shields to his
chariot *
Desunt
nonnulla.
*
Then Aristotle, observing Bacon advance with a
furious mien, drew his bow to the head, and let fly
his arrow, which missed the valiant modern and
went whizzing over his head; but Des Cartes it hit;
the steel point quickly found a defect in his head-
piece; it pierced the leather and the pasteboard,
and went in at his right eye. The torture of the
pain whirled the valiant bow-man round till death,
like a star of superior influence, drew him into his
own vortex.
Ingens hiatus
hic in MS.
**
*
*
when Homer appeared at the head
of the cavalry, mounted on a furious horse, with
difficulty managed by the rider himself, but which
no other mortal durst approach; he rode among the
enemy's ranks, and bore down all before him. Say,
goddess, whom he slew first and whom he slew last!
Doctor Harvey. It was not thought proper to name his
antagonist, but only to intimate that he was wounded: other
moderns are spared by the hiatus that follows.
First, Gondiberta advanced against him, clad in
heavy armour and mounted on a staid sober gelding,
not so famed for his speed as his docility in kneeling
whenever his rider would mount or alight. He had
made a vow to Pallas that he would never leave the
field till he had spoiled Homer of his armour: mad-
man, who had never once seen the wearer, nor un-
derstood his strength! Him Homer overthrew,
horse and man, to the ground, there to be trampled
and choked in the dirt. Then with a long spear
he slew Denham, a stout modern, who from his
father's side derived his lineage from Apollo, but his
mother was of mortal race. He fell, and bit the
earth. The celestial part Apollo took, and made it
a star; but the terrestrial lay wallowing upon the
ground. Then Homer slew Sam Wesley with a kick
of his horse's heel; he took Perrault by mighty force
out of his saddle, then hurled him at Fontenelle,
with the same blow dashing out both their brains.
On the left wing of the horse Virgil appeared, in
shining armour, completely fitted to his body: he
was mounted on a dapple-gray steed, the slowness
of whose pace was an effect of the highest mettle and
vigour. He cast his eye on the adverse wing, with
a desire to find an object worthy of his valour, when
behold upon a sorrel gelding of a monstrous size ap-
peared a foe, issuing from among the thickest of the
enemy's squadrons; but his speed was less than his
noise; for his horse, old and lean, spent the dregs of
his strength in a high trot, which, though it made
slow advances, yet caused a loud clashing of his
armour terrible to hear. The two cavaliers had
now approached within the throw of a lance, when
the stranger desired a parley, and, lifting up the
vizor of his helmet, a face hardly appeared from
within which, after a pause, was known for that of
the renowned Dryden. The brave ancient suddenly
started, as one possessed with surprise and disap-
pointment together; for the helmet was nine times
too large for the head, which appeared situate far in
the hinder part, even like the lady in a lobster, or
like a mouse under a canopy of state, or like a
shrivelled beau from within the penthouse of a
modern periwig; and the voice was suited to the
visage, sounding weak and remote. Dryden, in a
long harangue, soothed up the good ancient; called
him father, and, by a large deduction of genealogies,
made it plainly appear that they were nearly related.b
Then he humbly proposed an exchange of armour,
as a lasting mark of hospitality between them. Virgil
consented (for the goddess Diffidence came unseen,
and cast a mist before his eyes), though his was of
gold and cost a hundred beeves, the other's but of
rusty iron. However, this glittering armour became
the modern jet worse than his own. Then they
agreed to exchange horses; but, when it came to
the trial, Dryden was afraid and utterly unable to
mount.
Alter hiatus
in MS.
Lucan appeared upon a fiery horse of admirable
shape, but headstrong, bearing the rider where he
list over the field; he made a mighty slaughter
among the enemy's horse; which destruction to stop,
Blackmore, a famous modern (but one of the mer-
cenaries), strenuously opposed himself, and darted
his javelin with a strong hand, which, falling short
of its mark, struck deep in the earth. Then Lucan
threw a lance; but Esculapius came unseen and
turned off the point. Brave modern, said Lucan, I
perceive some god protects you, for never did my arm
so deceive me before: but what mortal can contend
An heroic poem by Sir W. Davenant in stanzas of four lines,
Alluding to the Preliminary Dissertations in Dryden's Virgil
e His skill as a physician atened for las dulness as a poet.
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
131
with a god? Therefore, let us fight no longer, but
present gifts to each other. Lucan then bestowed
the modern a pair of spurs, and Blackmore gave
Lucan a bridle.
Pauca desunt.
*
>
*
*
;
**
*
**
*
*
so that, whenever provoked by anger or labour, an
atramentous quality, of most malignant nature,
was seen to distil from his lips. In his right hand
he grasped a flail, and (that he might never be un-
provided of an offensive weapon) a vessel full of
ordure in his left. Thus completely armed, he
Creech but the goddess Dulness took a cloud, advanced with a slow and heavy pace where the
formed into the shape of Horace, armed and mounted, modern chiefs were holding a consult upon the sum of
and placed in a flying posture before him. Glad things; who, as he came onwards, laughed to behold
was the cavalier to begin a combat with a flying foe, his crooked leg and humped shoulder, which his boot
and pursued the image, threatening aloud; till at last and armour, vainly endeavouring to hide, were forced
it led him to the peaceful bower of his father, Ogleby, to comply with and expose. The generals made use
by whom he was disarmed and assigned to his repose. of him for his talent of railing; which, kept within
Then Pindar slew
and
and Oldham, government, proved frequently of great service to
and- and Afraª the Amazon, light of foot; never their cause, but, at other times, did more mischief than
advancing in a direct line, but wheeling with incre- good; for, at the least touch of offence, and often with-
dible agility and force, he made a terrible slaughter out any at all, he would, like a wounded elephant,
among the enemy's light horse. Him when Cowley convert it against his leaders. Such, at this juncture,
observed, his generous heart burnt within him, and was the disposition of Bentley; grieved to see the
he advanced against the fierce ancient, imitating his enemy prevail, and dissatisfied with everybody's
address, his pace, and career, as well as the vigour conduct but his own. He humbly gave the modern
of his horse and his own skill would allow. When generals to understand that he conceived, with great
the two cavaliers had approached within the length submission, they were all a pack of rogues, and
|
of three javelins, first Cowley threw a lance, which fools, and sons of whores, and d-d cowards, and
missed Pindar, and, passing into the enemy's ranks, confounded loggerheads, and illiterate whelps, and
fell ineffectual to the ground. Then Pindar darted nonsensical scoundrels; that, if himself had been
a javelin so large and weighty, that scarce a dozen constituted general, those presumptuous dogs, the
cavaliers, as cavaliers are in our degenerate days, ancients, would long before this have been beaten
could raise it from the ground; yet he threw it with out of the field. You, said he, sit here idle; but
ease, and it went, by an unerring hand, singing when I, or any other valiant modern, kill an enemy,
through the air; nor could the modern have avoided
you are sure to seize the spoil. But I will not
present death if he had not luckily opposed the march one foot against the foe till you all swear to
shield that had been given him by Venus. And me that whomever I take or kill, his arms I shall
now both heroes drew their swords; but the modern quietly possess. Bentley having spoken thus,
was so aghast and disordered that he knew not Scaliger, bestowing him a sour look, Miscreant
where he was; his shield dropped from his hands; prater! said he, eloquent only in thine own eyes,
thrice he fled, and thrice he could not escape; at thou railest without wit, or truth, or discretion.
last he turned, and lifting up his hand in the posture The malignity of thy temper perverteth nature; thy
of a suppliant, Godlike Pindar, said he, spare my learning makes thee more barbarous; thy study of
life, and possess my horse, with these arms, beside humanity more inhuman; thy converse among poets,
the ransom which my friends will give when they more grovelling, miry, and dull. All arts of civil-
hear I am alive and your prisoner. Dog! saidizing others render thee rude and untractable; courts
Pindar, let your ransom stay with your friends; but
your carcase shall be left for the fowls of the air and
the beasts of the field. With that he raised his
sword, and, with a mighty stroke, cleft the wretched
modern in twain, the sword pursuing the blow; and
one half lay panting on the ground, to be trod in
pieces by the horses' feet; the other half was borne
by the frighted steed through the field. This Venus
took, washed it seven times in ambrosia, then struck
it thrice with a sprig of amaranth; upon which the
leather grew round and soft, and the leaves turned
into feathers, and, being gilded before, continued
gilded still; so it became a dove, and she harnessed
it to her chariot.
Hiatus valde de-
flendus in MS.
THE EPISODE OF BENTLEY AND WOTTON.
Day being far spent, and the numerous forces of
the moderns half inclining to a retreat, there issued
forth from a squadron of their heavy-armed foot a
captain whose name was Bentley, the most deformed
of all the moderns; tall, but without shape or come-
liness; large, but without strength or proportion.
His armour was patched up of a thousand incobe-
rent pieces; and the sound of it, as he marched,
was loud and dry, like that made by the fall of a
sheet of lead, which an Etesian wind blows sud-
denly down from the roof of some steeple. His
helmet was of old rusty iron, but the vizor was
brass, which, tainted by his breath, corrupted into
copperas, nor wanted gall from the same fountain;
■ Mrs. Afra Behn. His poem called "The Mistress"
|
1
have taught thee ill manners, and polite conversation
has finished thee a pedant. Besides, a greater cow-
ard burdeneth not the army. But never despond;
I pass my word, whatever spoil thou takest shall
certainly be thy own; though I hope that vile carcase
will first become a prey to kites and worms.
Bentley durst not reply; but, half choked with
spleen and rage, withdrew, in full resolution of per-
forming some great achievement. With him, for
his aid and companion, he took his beloved Wotton;
resolving by policy or surprise to attempt some
neglected quarter of the ancient's army. They
began their march over carcases of their slaughtered
friends; then to the right of their own forces; then
wheeled northward, till they came to Aldrovandus's
tomb, which they passed on the side of the declining
sun. And now they arrived, with fear, toward the
might spy the quarters of the wounded, or some
enemy's out-guards; looking about, if haply they
straggling sleepers, unarmed and remote from the
rest.
As when two mongrel curs, whom native
greediness and domestic want provoke and join in
folds of some rich grazier, they, with tails depressed
partnership, though fearful, nightly to invade the
the conscious moon, now in her zenith, on their
and lolling tongues, creep soft and slow; meanwhile
bark, though much provoked at her refulgent visage,
guilty heads darts perpendicular rays; nor dare they
whether seen in puddle by reflection or in sphere
direct; but one surveys the region round, while the
other scouts the plain, if haply to discover, at dis-
The person here spoken of is famous for letting fly at
everybody.
K 2
132
THE BATTLE OF THE BOOKS.
So
tance from the flock, some carcase half devoured,
the refuse of gorged wolves or ominous ravens.
marched this lovely, loving pair of friends, nor with
less fear and circumspection, when at a distance
they might perceive two shining suits of armour
hanging upon an oak, and the owners not far off in
a profound sleep. The two friends drew lots, and
the pursuing of this adventure fell to Bentley; on he
went, and in his van Confusion and Amaze, while
Horror and Affright brought up the rear. As he
came near, behold two heroes of the ancient's army,
Phalaris and Æsop, lay fast asleep; Bentley would
fain have despatched them both, and, stealing close,
aimed his flail at Phalaris's breast. But then the
goddess Affright, interposing, caught the modern in
her icy arms, and dragged him from the danger she
foresaw; both the dormant heroes happened to turn
at the same instant, though soundly sleeping, and
busy in a dream. For Pharlarisa was just that
minute dreaming how a most vile poetaster had
lampooned him, and how he had got him roaring in
his bull. And Æsop dreamed that, as he and the
ancient chiefs were lying on the ground, a wild ass
broke loose, ran about, trampling and kicking and
dunging in their faces. Bentley, leaving the two
heroes asleep, seized on both their armours, and
withdrew in quest of his darling Wotton.
He, in the mean time, had wandered long in search
of some enterprise, till at length he arrived at a
small rivulet that issued from a fountain hard by,
called, in the language of mortal men, Helicon.
Here he stopped, and, parched with thirst, resolved
to allay it in this limpid stream. Thrice with pro-
fane hands he essayed to raise the water to his lips,
and thrice it slipped all through his fingers. Then
he stooped prone on his breast, but, ere his mouth
had kissed the liquid crystal, Apollo came, and in
the channel held his shield betwixt the modern and
the fountain, so that he drew up nothing but mud.
For, although no fountain on earth can compare
with the clearness of Helicon, yet there lies at bot-
tom a thick sediment of slime and mud; for so
Apollo begged of Jupiter, as a punishment to those
who durst attempt to taste it with unhallowed lips,
and for a lesson to all not to draw too deep or far
from the spring.
At the fountain-head Wotton discerned two hc-
oes; the one he could not distinguish, but the
other was soon known for Temple, general of the
allies to the ancients. His back was turned, and
he was employed in drinking large draughts in his
helmet from the fountain, where he had withdrawn
himself to rest from the toils of the war. Wotton,
observing him, with quaking knees and trembling
hands, spoke thus to himself: O that I could kill this
destroyer of our army, what renown should I pur-
chase among the chiefs! but to issue out against
him, man against man, shield against shield, and
lance against lance, what modern of us dare? for he
fights like a god, and Pallas or Apollo are ever at
his elbow. But, O mother! if what Fame reports be
true, that I am the son of so great a goddess, grant
me to hit Temple with this lance, that the stroke
may send him to hell, and that I may return in
safety and triumph, laden with his spoils. The first
part of this prayer the gods granted at the interces-
sion of his mother and of Momus; but the rest, by
a perverse wind sent from Fate, was scattered in
the air. Then Wotton grasped his lance, and,
brandishing it thrice over his head, darted it with
all his might; the goddess, his mother, at the same
time adding strength to his arm. Away the lance
went hizzing, and reached even to the belt of the
According to Homer, who tells the dreams of those who were
killed in their sleep.
|
|
a
averted ancient, upon which lightly grazing, it fell
to the ground. Temple neither felt the weapon touch
him nor heard it fall and Wotton might have es-
caped to his army, with the honour of having re-
mitted his lance against so great a leader unrevenged;
but Apollo, enraged that a javclin flung by the as-
sistance of so foul a goddess should pollute hig
fountain, put on the shape of ---, and softly
came to young Boyle, who then accompanied Tem-
ple: he pointed first to the lance, then to the dis-
tant modern that flung it, and commanded the young
hero to take immediate revenge. Boyle, clad in a
suit of armour which had been given him by all the
gods, immediately advanced against the trembling
foe, who now fled before him. As a young lion in
the Libyan plains, or Araby desert, sent by his agel
sire to hunt for prey, or health, or exercise, he scours
along, wishing to meet some tiger from the moun-
tains, or a furious boar; if chance a wild ass, with
brayings importune, affronts his ear, the generous
beast, though loathing to distain his claws with
blood so vile, yet, much provoked at the offensive
noise, which Echo, foolish nymph, like her ill-judg-
ing sex, repcats much louder, and with more delight
than Philomela's song, he vindicates the honour of
the forest, and hunts the noisy long-eared animal.
So Wotton fled, so Boyle pursued. But Wotton,
heavy-armed and slow of foot, began to slack his
course, when his lover Bentley appeared, returning
laden with the spoils of the two sleeping ancients.
Boyle observed him well, and soon discovering the
helmet and shield of Phalaris his friend, both which
he had lately with his own hands new polished and
gilt, rage sparkled in his eyes, and, leaving his
pursuit after Wotton, he furiously rushed on against
this new approacher. Fain would he be revenged
on both; but both now fled different ways: and, as
a woman in a little house that gets a painful liveli-
hood by spinning, if chauce her geese be scattered
o'er the common, she courses round the plain from
side to side, compelling here and there the stragglers
to the flock; they cackle loud, and flutter o'er the
champaign; so Boyle pursued, so fled this pair of
friends: finding at length their flight was vain, they
bravely joined, and drew themselves in phalanx.
First Bentley threw a spear with all his force, hoping
to pierce the enemy's breast; but Pallas came un-
seen, and in the air took off the point, and clapped
on one of lead, which, after a dead bang against the
cnemy's shield, fell blunted to the ground. Then
Boyle, observing well his time, took up a lance of
wondrous length and sharpness; and, as this pair of
friends compacted, stood close side to side, he
wheeled him to the right, and, with unusual force,
darted the weapon. Bentley saw his fate approach,
and flanking down his arms close to his ribs, hoping
to save his body, in went the point, passing through
arm and side, nor stopped or spent its force till it
had also pierced the valiant Wotton, who, going to
sustain his dying friend, shared his fate. As when
a skilful cook has trussed a brace of woodcocks, he
with iron skewer pierces the tender sides of both,
their legs and wings close pinioned to the ribs; so
was this pair of friends transfixed, till down they
fell, joined in their lives, joined in their deaths; so
closely joined that Charon would mistake them both
for one, and waft them over Styx for half his fare.
Farewell, beloved, loving pair; few equals have you
left behind: and happy and immortal shall you be,
if all may wit and eloquence can make you.
And now
Desunt cætera.
*
A Boyle was assisted in this dispute by denn Aldrich, Dr.
Atterbury, afterwards bishop of Rochester, and other persons
t Oxford.
133
A DISCOURSE
CONCERNING THE
MECHANICAL OPERATION OF THE SPIRIT.
IN A LETTER TO A FRIEND. A FRAGMENT.
THE BOOKSELLER'S ADVERTISEMENT.
THE following Discourse came into my hands per-
fect and entire; but there being several things in it
which the present age would not very well bear, I
kept it by me some years, resolving it should never
see the light. At length, by the advice and assist-
ance of a judicious friend, I retrenched those parts
that might give most offence, and have now ventured
to publish the remainder. Concerning the author I
am wholly ignorant; neither can
neither can I conjecture whe-
ther it be the same with that of the two foregoing
pieces, the original having been sent me at a different
time, and in a different hand. The learned reader
And now, sir, having despatched what I had to
say of form or of business, let me entreat you will
suffer me to proceed upon my subject, and to pardon
me if I make no farther use of the epistolary style
till I come to conclude.
SECTION THE FIRST.
Ir is recorded of Mahomet that, upon a visit he was
going to pay in Paradise, he had an offer of several
vehicles to conduct him upwards; as fiery chariots,
winged horses, and celestial sedans; but he refused
them all, and would be borne to heaven upon no-
thing but his ass. Now this inclination of Ma-
will better determine, to whose judgment I entirely homet, as singular as it seems, has been since taken
submit it.
A DISCOURSE, ETC.
a
For T. H. Esquire, at his chambers in the Academy of the
Beaux Esprits, in New England.
A
Sin, It is now a good while since I have had in my
head something, not only very material, but abso-
lutely necessary to my health, that the world should
be informed in; for, to tell you a secret, I am able
to contain it no longer. However, I have been per-
plexed for some time to resolve what would be the
most proper form to send it abroad in. To which
end I have been three days coursing through West-
minster-hall, and St. Paul's churchyard, and Fleet-
street, to peruse titles; and I do not find any which
holds so general a vogue as that of a Letter to a
Friend nothing is more common than to meet with
long epistles addressed to persons and places where,
at first thinking, one would be apt to imagine it not
altogether so necessary or convenient; such as, a
neighbour at next door, a mortal enemy, a perfect
stranger, or a person of quality in the clouds; and
these upon subjects, in appearance, the least proper
for conveyance by the post; as long schemes in phi-
losophy, dark and wonderful mysteries of state, la-
borious dissertations in criticism and philosophy,
advice to parliaments, and the like.
Now, sir, to proceed after the method in present
wear; for, let me say what I will to the contrary, I
am afraid you will publish this letter as soon as ever
it comes to your hand. I desire you will be my
witness to the world how careless and sudden a
scribble it has been; that it was but yesterday when
you and I began accidentally to fall into discourse
on this matter; that I was not very well when we
parted; that the post is in such haste I have had no
manner of time to digest it into order or correct the
style; and if any other modern excuses for haste
and negligence shall occur to you in reading, I beg
you to insert them, faithfully promising they shall
be thankfully acknowledged.
Pray, sir, in your next letter to the Iroquois vir-
tuosi, do me the favour to present my humble ser-
vice to that illustrious body, and assure them I shall
send an account of those phenomena as soon as we
can determine them at Gresham.
I have not had a line from the literati af Topin-
ambog these three last ordinaries.
8
Supposed to be col. Hunter. This Discourse is not aito-
gether equal to the former, the best parts of it being omitted.
up by a great number of devout christians, and
doubtless with very good reason. For, since that
Arabian is known to have borrowed a moiety of his
religious system from the christian faith, it is but
just he should pay reprisals to such as would chal-
lenge them; wherein the good people of England,
to do them all right, have not been backward; for,
though there is not any other nation in the world so
plentifully provided with carriages for that journey,
either as to safety or ease, yet there are abundance
of us who will not be satisfied with any other ma-
chine beside this of Mahomet.
For my own part, I must confess to bear a very
singular respect to this animal, by whom I take
human nature to be most admirably held forth in
all its qualities, as well as operations; and therefore,
whatever in my small reading occurs concerning
this our fellow-creature, I do never fail to set it
down by way of commonplace; and when I have
occasion to write upon human reason, politics, elo-
quence, or knowledge, I lay my memorandums be-
fore me, and insert them with a wonderful facility
of application. However, among all the qualifica -
tions ascribed to this distinguished brute, by an-
cient or modern authors, I cannot remember this
talent of bearing his rider to heaven has been re-
corded for a part of his character, except in the two
examples mentioned already; therefore I conceive
the methods of this art to be a point of useful know-
ledge in very few hands, and which the learned
world would gladly be better informed in: this is
what I have undertaken to perform in the following
discourse. For towards the operation already men-
tioned many peculiar properties are required both in
the rider and the ass, which I shall endeavour to set
in as clear a light as I can.
But, because I am resolved, by all means, to avoid
giving offence to any party whatever, I will leave
off discoursing so closely to the letter as I have
hitherto done, and go on for the future by way of
allegory; though in such a manner that the judi-
cious reader may, without much straining, make his
applications as often as he shall think fit. There-
fore, if you please, from henceforward, instead of the
term ass, we shall make use of gifted or enlightened
teacher; and the word rider we will exchange for
that of fauatic auditory, or any other denomination
of the like import. Having settled this weighty
point, the great subject of inquiry before us is to
examine by what methods this teacher arrives at his
gifts, or spirit, or light; and by what intercourse de-
134
A DISCOURSE ON THE MECHANICAL
tween him and his assembly it is cultivated and sup-
ported.
In all my writings I have had constant regard to
this great end, not to suit and apply them to par-
ticular occasions and circumstances of time, of place,
or of person, but to calculate them for universal
nature and mankind in general. And of such
catholic use I esteem this present disquisition; for
I do not remember any other temper of body, or
quality of mind, wherein all nations and ages of the
world have so unanimously agreed as that of a fa-
natic strain or tincture of enthusiasm; which, im-
proved by certain persons or societies of men, and
by them practised upon the rest, has been able to
produce revolutions of the greatest figure in history,
as will soon appear to those who know anything of
Arabia, Persia, India, or China, of Morocco and
Peru. Farther, it has possessed as great a power in
the kingdom of knowledge, where it is hard to
assign one art or science which has not annexed to
it some fanatic branch; such are, the philosopher's
stone, the grand elixir,a the planetary worlds, the
squaring of the circle, the summum bonum, Utopian
commonwealths, with some others of less or subor-
dinate note, which all serve for nothing else but to
employ or amuse this grain of enthusiasm dealt into
every composition.
But if this plant has found a root in the fields of
empire and of knowledge, it has fixed deeper and
spread yet farther upon holy ground; wherein,
though it has passed under the general name of en-
thusiasm, and perhaps arisen from the same original,
yet has it produced certain branches of a very differ-
ent nature, however often mistaken for each other.
The word, in its universal acceptation, may be de-
fined, a lifting up of the soul, or its faculties, above
matter. This description will hold good in general,
but I am only to understand it as applied to religion;
wherein there are three general ways of ejaculating
the soul, or transporting it beyond the sphere of
matter. The first is the immediate act of God, and
is called prophecy or inspiration. The second is
the immediate act of the devil, and is termed pos-
session. The third is the product of natural causes,
the effect of strong imagination, spleen, violent
anger, fear, grief, pain, and the like. These three
have been abundantly treated on by authors, and
therefore shall not employ my inquiry. But the
fourth method of religious enthusiasm, or launching
out of the soul, as it is purely an effect of artifice
and mechanic operation, has been sparingly handled,
or not at all, by any writer; because, though it is
an art of great antiquity, yet, having been confined
to few persons, it long wanted those advancements
and refinements which it afterwards met with, since
it has grown so epidemic, and fallen into so many
cultivating hands.
It is therefore upon this mechanical operation of
the spirit that I mean to treat, as it is at present
performed by our British workmen. I shall deliver
to the reader the result of many judicious observa-
tions upon the matter; tracing, as near as I can, the
whole course and method of this trade, producing
parallel instances and relating certain discoveries
that have luckily fallen in my way.
| Scythians there was a nation called Long-heads,
which at first began by a custom among midwives
and nurses of moulding, and squeezing, and bracing
up the heads of infants; by which means nature,
shut out at one passage, was forced to seek another,
and, finding room above, shot upwards in the form
of a sugar-loaf; and, being diverted that way for
some generations, at last found it out of herself,
needing no assistance from the nurse's hand. This
was the original of the Scythian Long-heads, and
thus did custom, from being a second nature, pro-
ceed to be a first. To all which there is something
very analogous among us of this nation, who are
the undoubted posterity of that refined people.
For in the age of our fathers there arose a genera-
tion of men in this island called Round-heads,ª
whose race is now spread over three kingdoms;
yet in its beginning was merely an operation of art
produced by a pair of scissors, a squeeze of the face,
and a black cap. These heads, thus formed into a
perfect sphere in all assemblies, were most exposed
to the view of the female sort, which did influence
their conceptions so effectually, that nature at last
took the hint and did it of herself; so that a round-
head has been ever since as familiar a sight among
us as a long-head among the Scythians.
Upon these examples, and others easy to produce,
I desire the curious reader to distinguish, first, be-
tween an effect grown from art into nature, and one
that is natural from its beginning: secondly, be-
tween an effect wholly natural, and one which has
only a natural foundation, but where the superstruc-
ture is entirely artificial. For the first and the last
of these I understand to come within the districts of
my subject. And having obtained these allowances,
they will serve to remove any objections that may
be raised hereafter against what I shall advance.
The practitioners of this famous art proceed, in
general, upon the following fundamental: that the
corruption of the senses is the generation of the
spirit; because the senses in men are so many ave-
nues to the fort of reason, which in this operation is
wholly blocked up. All endeavours must be there-
fore used, either to divert, bind up, stupify, fluster,
and amuse the senses, or else to justle them out of
their stations; and, while they are either absent or
otherwise employed, or engaged in a civil war
against cach other, the spirit enters and performs
its part.
Now, the usual methods of managing the senses
upon such conjunctures are, what I shall be very
particular in delivering, as far as it is lawful for me
to do; but, having had the honour to be initiated
into the mysteries of every society, I desire to be
excused from divulging any rites wherein the pro-
fane must have no part.
But here, before I can proceed farther, a very
dangerous objection must if possible be removed.
For it is positively denied by certain critics that the
spirit can, by any means, be introduced into an
assembly of modern saints; the disparity being so
great in many material circumstances between the
primitive way of inspiration and that which is prac-
tised in the present age. This they pretend to prove
from the second chapter of the Acts, where, com-
paring both, it appears, first, That the apostles were
gathered together with one accord, in one place; by
which is meant a universal agreement in opinion and
form of worship; a harmony, say they, so far from
I have said that there is one branch of religious
enthusiasm which is purely an effect of nature;
whereas the part I mean to handle is wholly an
effect of art, which however is inclined to work
upon certain natures and constitutions more than
others. Besides, there is many an operation which
in its original was purely an artifice, but through a
long succession of ages has grown to be natural.
Hippocrates tells us that among our ancestors the distinction became general, and the party were called round
• Somo writes hold them for the same, others not.
The fanatics in the time of Charles I., ignorantly applying
the test, "Ye know that it is a shame for men to have long
hair," cut theirs very short. It is said that the queen, once
seeing Pym, a celebrated patriot, thus cropped, inquited who
that found headed man was? and that from this incident the
I heads.
+
OPERATION OF THE SPIRIT.
being found between any two conventicles among us,
that it is in vain to expect it between any two heads
in the same. Secondly, The spirit instructed the
apostles in the gift of speaking several languages;
a knowledge so remote from our dealers in this art,
that they neither understand propriety of words or
phrases in their own. Lastly, say these objectors,
the modern artists do utterly exclude all approaches
of the spirit, and bar up its ancient way of entering,
by covering themselves so close and so industriously
a-top for they will needs have it as a point clearly
gained, that the cloven tongues never sat upon the
apostles' heads while their hats were on.
Now, the force of these objections seems to con-
sist in the different acceptation of the word spirit;
which, if it be understood for a supernatural assist-
ance approaching from without, the objectors have
reason, and their assertions may be allowed; but
the spirit we treat of here proceeding entirely from
within, the argument of these adversaries is wholly
eluded. And upon the same account, our modern
artificers find it an expedient of absolute necessity
to cover their heads as close as they can in order to
prevent perspiration, than which nothing is ob-
served to be a greater spender of mechanic light, as
we may perhaps further show in a convenient place.
To proceed therefore upon the phenomenon of
spiritual mechanism, it is here to be noted that in
forming and working up the spirit the assembly
has a considerable share as well as the preacher.
The method of this arcanum is as follows: they
violently strain their eyeballs inward, half closing
the lids; then, as they sit, they are in a perpetual
motion of see-saw, making long hums at proper
periods, and continuing the sound at equal height,
choosing their time in those intermissions while the
preacher is at ebb. Neither is this practice in any
part of it so singular and improbable as not to be
traced in distant regions from reading and observa-
tion. For, first, the Jauguis [Bernier, Mem. de
Mogol.], or enlightened saints of India, see all their
visions by help of an acquired straining and pressure
of the eyes. Secondly, the art of see-saw on a
beam, and swinging by session upon a cord, in order
to raise artificial ecstasies, has been derived to us
from our Scythian [Guagnini Hist. Sarmat.] ances-
tors, where it is practised at this day among the
Women. Lastly, the whole proceeding, as I have
here related it, is performed by the natives of Ire-
land with a considerable improvement; and it is
granted that this noble nation has, of all others, ad-
mitted fewer corruptions and degenerated least from
the purity of the old Tartars. Now, it is usual for
a knot of Irish men and women to abstract them-
selves from matter, bind up all their senses, grow
visionary and spiritual, by influence of a short pipe
of tobacco handed round the company, each preserv-
ing the smoke in his mouth till it comes again to
his turn to take in fresh; at the same time there is
a concert of a continued gentle hum, repeated and
renewed by instinct as occasion requires; and they
move their bodies up and down to a degree that
sometimes their heads and points lie parallel to the
horizon. Meanwhile you may observe their eyes
turned up, in the posture of one who endeavours to
keep himself awake; by which, and many other
symptoms among them, it manifestly appears that
the reasoning faculties are all suspended and super-
seded, that imagination has usurped the seat, scat-
tering a thousand deliriums over the brain. Re-
turning from this digression, I shall describe the
methods by which the spirit approaches. The eyes
being disposed according to art, at first you can sec
nothing; but after a short pause a small glimmer-
ing light begins to appear and dance before you:
135
then, by frequently moving your body up and down,
you perceive the vapours to ascend very fast, till
you are perfectly dosed and flustered like one who
drinks too much in a morning. Meanwhile the
preacher is also at work; he begins a loud hum
which pierces you quite through; this is imme-
diately returned by the audience, and you find
yourself prompted to imitate them by a mere spon-
taneous impulse, without knowing what you do.
The interstitia are duly filled up by the preacher to
prevent too long a pause, under which the spirit
would soon faint and grow languid.
This is all I am allowed to discover about the
progress of the spirit with relation to that part
which is borne by the assembly; but in the methods
of the preacher to which I now proceed I shall be
more large and particular.
SECTION THE SECOND.
You will read it very gravely remarked in the books.
of those illustrious and right eloquent penmen,
the modern travellers, that the fundamental differ-
ence in point of religion between the wild Indians
and us,
lies in this that we worship God, and they
worship the devil. But there are certain critics
who will by no means admit of this distinction, ra-
ther believing that all natious whatsoever adore the
true God, because they seem to intend their devo-
tions to some invisible power of greatest goodness
and ability to help them; which perhaps will take
in the brightest attributes ascribed to the Divinity.
Others again inform us that those idolators adore
two principles-the principle of good, and that of
evil; which indeed I am apt to look upon as the
most universal notion that mankind, by the mere
light of nature, ever entertained of things invisible.
How this idea has been managed by the Indians
and us, and with what advantage to the understand-
ings of either, may well deserve to be examined.
To me the difference appears little more than this,
that they are put oftener upon their knees by their
fears, and we by our desires; that the former set
them a praying, and us a cursing. What I applaud
them for is, their discretion in limiting their devo-
tions and their deities to their several districts, nor
ever suffering the liturgy of the white God to cross
or to interfere with that of the black. Not so with
us, who, pretending by the lines and measures of
our reason to extend the dominion of one invisible
power, and contract that of the other, have disco-
vered a gross ignorance in the natures of good and
evil, and most horribly confounded the frontiers of
both. After men have lifted up the throne of their
divinity to the cœlum empyræum, adorned with all
such qualities and accomplishments as themselves
seem most to value and possess after they have
sunk their principle of evil to the lowest centre,
bound him with chains, loaded him with curses,
furnished him with viler dispositions than any rake-
hell of the town, accoutred him with tail, and horns,
and huge claws, and saucer eyes-1 laugh aloud to
see these reasoners at the same time engaged in
wise dispute, about certain walks and purlieus, whe-
ther they are in the verge of God or the devil;
seriously debating whether such and such influences
come into men's minds from above or below; whe-
ther certain passions and affections are guided by the
evil spirit or the good:
Dum fas atque nefas exiguo fine libidinum
Discernunt avidi.
Thus do men establish a fellowship of Christ with
Belial, and such is the analogy they make between
cloven tongues and cloven feet.
and cloven feet. Of the like nature
is the disquisition before us: it has continued these
136
A DISCOURSE ON THE MECHANICAL
hundred years an even debate whether the deport-
ment and the cant of our English enthusiastic
preachers were possession or inspiration; and a
world of argument has been drained on either side,
perhaps to little purpose. For I think it is in life
as in tragedy, where it is held a conviction of great
defect, both in order and invention, to interpose the
assistance of preternatural power without an abso-
lute and last necessity. However, it is a sketch of
human vanity for every individual to imagine the
whole universe is interested in his meanest concern.
If he has got cleanly over a kennel, some angel un-
seen descended on purpose to help him by the
hand; if he has knocked his head against a post, it
was the devil for his sins let loose from hell on pur-
pose to buffet him. Who that sees a little paltry |
mortal, droning, and dreaming, and drivelling to a
multitude, can think it agreeable to common good
sense that either heaven or hell should be put to the
trouble of influence or inspection upon what he is
about? therefore I am resolved immediately to
weed this error out of mankind, by making it clear
that this mystery of vending spiritual gifts is no-
thing but a trade, acquired by as much instruction,
and mastered by equal practice and application, as
others are. This will best appear by describing and
deducting the whole process of the operation, as
variously as it hath fallen under my knowledge or
experience.
**
*
"Here the whole scheme of spiritual mechanism was
deduced and explained, with an appearance of great
reading and observation; but it was thought neither
safe nor convenient to print it.
Here it may not be amiss to add a few words
upon the laudable practice of wearing quilted caps;
which is not a matter of mere custom, humour, or
fashion, as some would pretend, but an institution
of great sagacity and use: these, when moistened
with sweat, stop all perspiration; and, by reverbe-
rating the heat, prevent the spirit from evaporating
any way but at the mouth; even as a skilful house-
wife that cova s her still with a wet clout for the
game reason, and finds the same effect. For it is
the opinion of choice virtuosi that the brain is only
a crowd of little animals, but with teeth and claws
extremely sharp, and therefore cling together in the
contexture we behold, like the picture of Hobbes's
Leviathan, or like bees in perpendicular swarm
upon a tree, or like a carrion corrupted into vermin,
still preserving the shape and figure of the mother
animal that all invention is formed by the morsure
of two or more of these animals upon certain ca-
pillary nerves which proceed from thence, whereof
three branches spread into the tongue, and two into
the right hand. They hold also that these animals
are of a constitution extremely cold; that their food
is the air we attract, their excrement phlegm; and
that what we vulgarly call rheums, and colds, and
distillations, is nothing else but an epidemical loose-
ness, to which that little commonwealth is very
subject from the climate it lies under. Further,
that nothing less than a violent heat can disentangle
these creatures from their hamated station of life, or
give them vigour and humour to imprint the marks
of their little teeth. That if the morsure be hexa-
|
word, and syllable, and letter, to their due cadence,
the whole operation is incomplete, misses entirely
of its effect on the hearers, and puts the workman
himself to continual pains for new supplies, without
success. For it is to be understood that, in the
language of the spirit, cant and droning supply the
place of sense and reason in the language of men:
because, in spiritual harangues, the disposition of
the words according to the art of grammar has not
the least use, but the skill and influence wholly lie
in the choice and cadence of the syllables; even as
a discreet composer, who, in setting a song, changes
the words and order so often, that he is forced to
make it nonsense before he can make it music. For
this reason it has been held by some that the art of
canting is ever in greatest perfection when managed
by ignorance; which is thought to be enigmatically
meant by Plutarch, when he tells us that the best mu-
sical instruments were made from the bones of an ass.
And the profounder critics upon that passage are of
opinion, the word, in its genuine signification, means
no other than a jaw-bone; though some rather think
it to have been the os sacrum; but in so nice a case
I shall not take upon me to decide; the curious are
at liberty to pick from it whatever they please.
The first ingredient toward the art of canting is, a
competent share of inward light; that is to say, a
large memory, plentifully fraught with theological
polysyllables and mysterious texts from holy writ,
applied and digested by those methods and mechanical
operations already related: the bearers of this light
resembling lanterns compact of leaves from old
Geneva bibles; which invention, sir Humphrey
Edwin,a during his mayoralty, of happy memory,
highly approved and advanced; affirming the Scrip-
ture to be now fulfilled, where it says, Thy word is
a lantern to my feet, and a light to my paths.
Now, the art of canting consists in skilfully adapt-
ing the voice to whatever words the spirit delivers,
that each may strike the ears of the audience with
its most significant cadence. The force or energy
of this eloquence is not to be found, as among an-
cient orators, in the disposition of words to a sen-
tence, or the turning of long periods; but, agreeably to
the modern refinements in music, is taken up wholly
in dwelling and dilating upon syllables and letters.
Thus, it is frequent for a single vowel to draw sighs
from a multitude, and for a whole assembly of saints.
to sob to the music of one solitary liquid. But these
are trifles, when even sounds inarticulate are ob-
served to produce as forcible effects. A master
workman shall blow his nose so powerfully as to
pierce the hearts of his people, who were disposed
to receive the excrements of his brain with the same
reverence as the issue of it. Hawking, spitting, and
belching, the defects of other men's rhetoric, are the
flowers, and figures, and ornaments of his. For the
spirit being the same in all, it is of no import through
what vehicle it is conveyed.
It is a point of too much difficulty to draw the
principles of this famous art within the compass of
certain adequate rules. However, perhaps I may
one day oblige the world with my critical essay upon
the art of canting; philosophically, physically, and
musically considered.
But, among all improvements of the spirit, wherein
the voice has borne a part, there is none to be com-
nose, which, under the denomination of snuffling,b
gonal it produces poetry; the circular gives elo-pared with that of conveying the sound through the
quence: if the bite hath been conical, the person
whose nerve is so affected shall be disposed to write
upon politics; and so of the rest.
I shall now discourse briefly by what kind of
practices the voice is best governed toward the com-
position and improvement of the spirit; for, with-
out a competent skill in tuning and toning each
a A presbyterian, who, ascending to the dignity of lord
mayor of London, went in his official character to a meeting
house
The snuffling of men who have lost their noses by lewd
courses is said to have given rise to that tone which our dis
senters did too much affect.
1
OPERATION OF THE SPIRIT.
has passed with so great applause in the world. The
originals of this institution are very dark: but,
having been initiated into the mystery of it, and
leave being given me to publish it to the world, I
shall deliver as direct a relation as I can.
This art, like many other famous inventions, owed
its birth, or at least improvement and perfection, to
an effect of chance; but was established upon solid
reasons, and has flourished in this island ever since
with great lustre. All agree that it first appeared
upon the decay and discouragement of bagpipes,
which, having long suffered under the mortal hatred
of the brethren, tottered for a time, and at last fell
with monarchy. The story is thus related.
As yet snuffling was not, when the following ad-
venture happened to a Banbury saint. Upon a
certain day, while he was far engaged among the
tabernacles of the wicked, he felt the outward man
put into odd commotions, and strangely pricked
forward by the inward; an effect very usual among
the modern inspired. For some think that the
spirit is apt to feed on the flesh, like hungry wines
upon raw beef.
Others rather believe there is a
perpetual game at leap-frog between both; and
sometimes the flesh is uppermost, and sometimes the
spirit adding that the former, while it is in the state.
of a rider, wears huge Rippon spurs; and, when it
comes to the turn of being bearer, is wonderfully head-
strong and hard-mouthed. However it came about,
the saint felt his vessel full extended in every part;
(a very natural effect of strong inspiration); and
the place and time falling out so unluckily that he
could not have the convenience of evacuating up-
wards, by repetition, prayer, or lecture, he was
forced to open an inferior vent. In short, he wrestled
with the flesh so long, that he at length subdued it,
coming off with honourable wounds all before.
The surgeon had now cured the parts primarily
affected; but the disease, driven from its post, flew
up into his head; and, as a skilful general, valiantly
attacked in his trenches, and beaten from the field,
by flying marches withdraws to the capital city,
breaking down the bridges to prevent pursuit; so
the disease, repelled from its first station, fled before
the rod of Hermes to the upper region, there forti-
fying itself; but, finding the foe making attacks at
the nose, broke down the bridge and retired to the
head-quarters. Now, the naturalists observe that
there is in human noses an idiosyncracy, by virtue of
which, the more the passage is obstructed, the more
our speech delights to go through, as the music of
a flageolet is made by the stops. By this method
the twang of the nose becomes perfectly to resemble
the suuffle of a bagpipe, and is found to be equally
attractive of British ears; whereof the saint had
ɛudden experience, by practising his new faculty with
wonderful success, in the operation of the spirit;
for, in a short time, no doctrine passed for sound and
orthodox unless it were delivered through the nose.
Straight every pastor copied after this original; and
those who could not otherwise arrive to a perfection,
spirited by a noble zeal, made use of the same expe-
riment to acquire it; so that, I think, it may be truly
affirmed the saints owe their empire to the snuffling
of one animal, as Darius did his to the neighing of
another; and both stratagems were performed by
the same art; for we read how the Persian beast
acquired his faculty by covering a mare the day
before. [Herodotus.]
I should now have doue, if I were not convinced
that whatever I have yet advanced upon this subject
is liable to great exception. For, allowing all I
have said to be true, it may still be justly objected
that there is in the commonwealth of artificial en-
thusiasm some real foundation for art to work upon,
|
137
in the temper and complexion of individuals, which
other mortals seem to want. Observe but the gesture,
the motion, and the countenance of some choice
professors, though in their most familiar actions, you
will find them of a different race from the rest of
human creatures. Remark your commonest pre-
tender to a light within, how dark, and dirty, and
gloomy he is without; as lanterns, which, the more
light they bear in their bodies, cast out so much the
more soot, and smoke, and fuliginous matter to ad-
here to the sides. Listen but to their ordinary talk,
and look on the mouth that delivers it, you will
imagine you are hearing some ancient oracle, aud
your understanding will be equally informed. Upon
these, and the like reasons, certain objectors pretend
to put it beyond all doubt that there must be a sort
of preternatural spirit possessing the heads of the
modern saints; and some will have it to be the heat
of zeal working upon the dregs of ignorance, as
other spirits are produced from lees by the force of
fire. Some again think, that when our earthly
tabernacles are disordered and desolate, shaken and
out of repair, the spirit delights to dwell within
them; as houses are said to be haunted when they
are forsaken and gone to decay.
To set this matter in as fair a light as possible, I
shall here very briefly deduce the history of fana-
ticism from the most early ages to the present. And
if we are able to fix upon any one material or fun-
damental point, wherein the chief professors have
universally agreed, I think we may reasonably lay
hold on that, and assign it for the great seed or
principle of the spirit.
The most early traces we meet with of fanatics in
ancient story are among the Egyptians, who insti-
tuted those rites known in Greece by the names of
Orgia, Panegyres, and Dionysia; whether introduced
there by Orpheus or Melampus we shall not dispute
at present, nor in all likelihood at any time for the
future [Diod. Sic., 1. i. Plut. de Iside et Osiride].
These feasts were celebrated to the honour of Osiris,
whom the Grecians called Dionysius, and is the
same with Bacchus: which has betrayed some super-
ficial readers to imagine that the whole business was
nothing more than a set of roaring, scouring com-
panions, overcharged with wine; but this is a scan-
dalous mistake, foisted on the world by a sort of
modern authors, who have too literal an understand-
ing; and, because antiquity is to be traced backwards,
do therefore, like Jews, begin their books at the
wrong end, as if learning were a sort of conjuring.
These are the men who pretend to understand a book
by scouring through the index; as if a traveller
should go about to describe a palace, when he had
seen nothing but the privy; or like certain fortune-
tellers in Northern America, who have a way of
reading a man's destiny by peeping into his breech.
For, at the time of instituting these mysteries, there
was not one vine in all Egypt [Herodotus, 1. ii.], the
natives drinking nothing but ale; which liquor
seems to have been far more ancient than wine, and
has the honour of owing its invention and progress,
not only to the Egyptian Osiris [Diod. Sic., 1. i. and
iii.],but to the Grecian Bacchus; who, in their famous
expedition, carried the receipt of it along with them,
and gave it to the nations they visited or subdued.
Besides, Bacchus himself was very seldom or never
drunk; for it is recorded of him that he was the
first inventor of the mitre [Id., 1. iv.], which he wore
continually on his head (as the whole company of
bacchanals did), to prevent vapours and the head-
ache after hard drinking. And for this reason, say
some, the scarlet whore, when she makes the kings
of the earth drunk with her cup of abomination, is
always sober herself, though she never balks the
138
A DISCOURSE ON THE MECHANICAL OPERATION, ETC.
glass in her turn, being, it seems, kept upon her legs
by the virtue of her triple mitre. Now these feasts
were instituted in imitation of the famous expedi-
tion Osiris made through the world, and of the com-
pany that attended him, whereof the bacchanalian
cermonies were so many types and symbols. From
which account [Diod. Sic., I. i. and iii.] it is manifest
that the fanatic rites of these bacchanals cannot be
imputed to intoxications by wine, but must needs
have had a deeper foundation. What this was, we
may gather large hints from certain circumstances
in the course of their mysteries. For, in the first
place, there was, in their processions, an entire mix-
ture and confusion of sexes; they affected to ramble
about hills and deserts; their garlands were of ivy
and vine, emblems of cleaving and clinging; or of
fir, the parent of turpentine. It is added that they
imitated satyrs, were attended by goats, and rode
upon asses, all companions of great skill and practice |
in affairs of gallantry. They bore for their ensigns
certain curious figures, perched upon long poles,
made into the shape and size of the virga genitalis,
with its appurtenances; which were so many shadows
and emblems of the whole mystery, as well as tro-
phies set up by the female conquerors. Lastly, in a
certain town of Attica, the whole solemnity, stripped
of all its types [Dionysia Brauronia], was performed
in puris naturalibus, the votaries not flying in coveys,
but sorted into couples. The same may be further
conjectured from the death of Orpheus, one of the
institutors of these mysteries, who was torn in
pieces by women, because he refused to commu-
nicate his orgies to them [Vide Photium in excerp-
tis è Conone]; which others explained by telling
us he had castrated himself upon grief for the loss
of his wife.
Omitting many others of less note, the next fa-
natics we meet with of any eminence were the nu-
merous sects of heretics appearing in the five first
centuries of the Christian era, from Simon Magus
and his followers to those of Eutyches. I have col-
lected their systems from infinite reading, and, com-
paring them with those of their successors in the
several ages since, I find there are certain bounds
set even to the irregularity of human thought, and
those a great deal narrower than is commonly ap-
prehended. For, as they all frequently interfere
even in their wildest ravings, so there is one funda-
mental point wherein they are sure to meet, as lines
in a centre, and that is, the community of women.
Great were their solicitudes in this matter, and they
never failed of certain articles, in their schemes of
worship, on purpose to establish it.
The last fanatics of note were those which started
up in Germany a little after the reformation of
Luther, springing as mushrooms do at the end of a
harvest; such were John of Leyden, David George,
Adam Neuster, and many others, whose visions and
revelations always terminated in leading about half
a dozen sisters a-piece, and making that practice a
fundamental part of their system. For human life
is a continual navigation, and if we expect our ves-
sels to pass with safety through the waves and tem-
pests of this fluctuating world, it is necessary to
make a good provision of the flesh, as seamen lay in
store of beef for a long voyage.
Now, from this brief survey of some principal sects
among the fanatics in all ages (having omitted the
Mahometans and others, who might also help to
confirm the argument I am about), to which I might
|
|
Be-
love, sweet singers of Israel, and the like; and,
from reflecting upon that fundamental point in their
doctrines about women wherein they have so unani-
mously agreed, I am apt to imagine that the seed or
principle which has ever put men upon visions in
things invisible is of a corporeal nature; for the
profounder chemists inform us that the strongest
spirits may be extracted from human flesh.
sides, the spinal marrow, being nothing else but a
continuation of the brain, must needs create a very
free communication between the superior faculties
and those below; and thus the thorn in the flesh
serves for a spur to the spirit. I think it is agreed
among physicians that nothing affects the head so
much as a tentiginous humour, repelled and elated
to the upper region, found, by daily practice, to run
frequently up into madness. A very eminent mem-
A
ber of the faculty assured me that when the Quakers
first appeared he seldom was without some female
patients among them for the furor -; persons of a
visionary devotion, either men or women, are, in
their complexion, of all others, the most amorous;
for zeal is frequently kindled from the same spark
with other fires, and, from inflaming brotherly love,
will proceed to raise that of a gallant. If we inspect
into the usual process of modern courtship, we shall
find it to consist in a devout turn of the eyes, called
ogling; an artificial form of canting and whining by
rote, every interval, for want of other matter, made
up with a shrug or a hum, a sigh or a groan; the
style compact of insignificant words, incoherences,
and repetition. These I take to be the most ac-
complished rules of address to a mistress; and where
are these performed with more dexterity than by the
saints? Nay, to bring this argument yet closer, I
have been informed by certain sanguine brethren of
the first class, that, in the height and orgasmus of
their spiritual exercise, it has been frequent with
them ******; immediately after which, they found
the spirit to relax and flag of a sudden with the
nerves, and they were forced to hasten to a conclu-
sion. This may be further strengthened by observ-
ing, with wonder, how unaccountably all females
are attracted by visionary or enthusiastic preachers,
though ever so contemptible in their outward mien;
which is usually supposed to be done upon con-
siderations purely spiritual, without any carnal re-
gards at all. But I have reason to think the sex
has certain characteristics, by which they form a
truer judgment of human abilities and performings
than we ourselves can possibly do of each other.
Let that be as it will, thus much is certain, that,
however spiritual intrigues begin, they generally
conclude like all others; they may branch upward
toward heaven, but the root is in the earth.
intense a contemplation is not the business of flesh
and blood; it must, by the necessary course of
things, in a little time let go its hold, and fall into
matter. Lovers for the sake of celestial converse
are but another sort of Platonics, who pretend to see
stars and heaven in ladies' eyes, and to look or think
no lower; but the same pit is provided for both;
and they seem a perfect moral to the story of that
philosopher, who, while his thoughts and eyes were
fixed upon the constellations, found himself seduced
by his lower parts into a ditch.
Too
I had somewhat more to say upon this part of the
subject; but the post is just going, which forces me
in great haste to conclude, sir, yours, &c.
add several among ourselves, such as the family of Pray burn this letter as soon as it comes to your
hands.
f
I
139
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
LETTER THE FIRST.a
Chester, Sept. 2, 1710.
JOEb will give you an account of me till I got into
the boat, after which the rogues made a new bargain,
and forced me to give them two crowns, and talked
as if we should not be able to overtake any ship;
but in half an hour we got to the yacht; for the
ships lay by to wait for my lord-lieutenant's steward.
We made our voyage in fifteen hours just. Last
night I came to this town, and shall leave it, I be-
lieve, on Monday: the first man I met in Chester
was Dr. Raymond. He and Mrs. Raymond were
here about levying a fine, in order to have power to
sell their estate. I got a fall off my horse, riding
here from Parkgate, but no hurt; the horse under-
standing falls very well, and lying quietly till I
got up. My duty to the bishop of Clogher. I saw
him returning from Dunlary; but he saw not me.
I take it ill he was not at convocation, and that I
have not his name to my powers. I beg you will
hold your resolution of going to Trim, and riding
there as much as you can. Let the bishop of Clogher
remind the bishop of Killala to send me a letter,
with one enclosed to the ishop of Litchfield.e Let
all who write to me enclose to Richard Steele, esq.,
at his office at the Cockpit, near Whitehall. My
lord Mountjoy is now in the humour that we should
begin our journey this afternoon, so that I have
stolen here again to finish this letter, which must be
short or long accordingly. I write this post to Mrs.
Wesley, and will tell her that I have taken care she
may have her bill of one hundred and fifty pounds
whenever she pleases to send for it; and in that
case I desire you will send it her enclosed and sealed.
God Almighty bless you; and for God's sake be
merry, and get your health. I am perfectly resolved
to return as soon as I have done my commission,
whether it succeeds or not. I never went to Eng-
land with so little desire in my life. If Mrs. Curry
makes any difficulty about the lodgings I will quit
them, and pay her from July 9; and Mrs. Brent must
write to Parvisol with orders accordingly.
The
post is just come from London, and just going out,
so I have only time to pray to God to bless poor
little MD, MD, MD, MD, MD, MD, MD, MD.
a These letters to Stella, or Mrs. Johnson, were all written
in a series from the time of Dr. Swift's landing at Chester. in
September, 1710, until his return to Ireland in June, 1713,
upon being made dean of St Patrick's, Dublin. The letters
were all very carefully preserved by Stella; and at her death,
if not before, taken back by Dr. Swift; for what end we know
not, unless it were to compare the current news of the times
with that history of the queen which he writ at Windsor in the
year 1713 they were sometimes addressed to Mrs. Johnson,
and sometimes to Mrs. Dingley, who was a relation of the
Temple family, and friend to Mrs. Johuson. Both these ladies.
went over to Ireland upon Swift's invitation in the year 1701,
and lodged constantly together.-D.S.
Mr. Joseph Beaumont, merchant, of Trim, had the honour
to be among Swift's friends. He invented a set of tables for
the improvement of the linen trade, aud received from govern-
ment a reward, a circumstance frequently alluded to in the
course of these letters. Intense application to investigate the
longitude at length deranged his faculties, and he committed
suicide in a fit of lunacy.
• Vicar of Trim, Swift's particular friend.
d Dr. St. George Ashe, afterwards bishop of Derry.
e Dr. John Hough.
At this time gazetteer, and commissioner of the stamp-
office.
< Lady of Garret Wesley, esq., a daughter of sir Dudley
Colley.
&
LETTER THE SECOND.
London, Saturday, Sept. 9, 1710.
I GOT here last Thursday, after five days' travelling,
weary the first, almost dead the second, tolerable
the third, and well enough the rest; and am now
glad of the fatigue, which has served for exercise;
and I am at present well enough. The Whigs were
ravished to see me, and would lay hold on me as a
twig while they are drowning, and the great men
making me their clumsy apologies, &c. But my
lord treasurerb received me with a great deal of
coldness, which has enraged me so, I am almost
vowing revenge. I have not yet gone half my circle;
but I find all my acquaintance just as I left them.
I hear my lady Giffard is much at court, and lady
Wharton was ridiculing it the other day, so I have
lost a friend there. I have not yet seen her, nor
intend it; but I will contrive to see Stella's mother
some other way. I writ to the bishop of Clogher
from Chester; and I now write to the archbishop
of Dublin. Everything is turning upside down;
every Whig in great office will, to a man, be infal-
libly put out; and we shall have such a winter as
has not been seen in England. Everybody asks
me how I came to be so long in Ireland, as natu-
rally as if here were my being; but no soul offers to
make it so; and I protest I shall return to Dublin,
and the canal at Laracor, with more satisfaction
than I ever did in my life. The Tatler expects
every day to be turned out of his employment; and
the duke of Ormond, they say, will be lieutenant
of Ireland. I hope you are now peaceably in
Presto's lodgings; but I resolve to turn you out
by Christmas, in which time I shall either do my
business, or find it not to be done. Pray be at Trim
by the time this letter cames to you, and ride little
Johnson, who must needs be now in good case.
have begun this letter unusually on the post night,
and have already written to the archbishop, and
cannot lengthen this.
I
Henceforth I will write
something every day to MD, and make it a sort of
journal; and when it is full I will send it whether
MD writes or not; and so that will be pretty; and
I shall always be in conversation with MD, and
MD with Presto. Pray make Parvisole pay you
the ten pounds immediately; so I ordered him.
They tell me I am growing fatter, and look better;
and, on Monday, Jervis is to retouch my picture.
I thought I saw Jack Temple and his wife pass by
me to-day in their coach, but I took no notice of
them. I am glad I have wholly shaken off that
family. Tell the provost I have obeyed his com-
mands to the duke of Ormond; or let it alone, if
a For having disappointed his preferment, through the re-
monstrance of Sharpe, archbishop of York.
୯
The earl of Godolphin.
Lady Giffard, the beloved sister of sir William Temple, is
said to have had a large portion of his genius.
d In these letters, Pdfr stands for Dr. Swift: Ppt for Stella:
D for Dingley DD generally for Dingley, but sometimes for
both Stella and Dingley; and MD generally stands for both
these ladies; yet sometimes only for Stella. But, to avoid per-
plexing the reader, it was thought more advisable to use the
word Presto for Swift, which is borrowed from the Duchess of
Shrewsbury, who whimsically called him Dr. Presto, which is
the Italian for Swift.
The doctor's agent at Laracor, a Frenchman.
Nephew to sir William.
& This coldness between the Temple family and Dr. Swift
has been variously accounted for but never satisfactorily
cleared up.
140
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
you please. I saw Jemmy Leigh just now at the
coffeehouse, who asked after you with great kind-
ness; he talks of going in a fortnight to Ireland.
My service to the dean,b and Mrs. Walls, and her
archdeacon. Will Frankland's wife is near bring-
ing to bed, and I have promised to christen the
child. I fancy you had my Chester letter the
Tuesday after I writ. I presented Dr. Raymond to
Lord Wharton at Chester. Pray let me know when
Joe gets his money. It is near ten, and I hate to
send by the bellman. MD shall have a longer letter
in a week, but I send this only to tell I am safe in
London; and so farewell, &c.
LETTER THE THIRD.
London, Sept. 9, 1710.
AFTER seeing the duke of Ormond, dining with
Dr. Cockburn, passing some part of the afternoon
with sir Matthew Dudley and Will Frankland, the
rest at St. James's coffeehouse, I came home and
writ to the archbishop of Dublin and MD, and am
going to bed. I forgot to tell you that I begged
Will Frankland to stand Manley's friend with his
father in this shaking season for places. He told
me his fathere was in danger to be out; that seve-
ral were now soliciting for Manley's place; that he
was accused of opening letters; that sir Thomas.
Frankland would sacrifice everything to save him-
self, and in that I fear Manley is undone, &c.
10. To-day I dined with lord Mountjoy at Ken-
sington; saw my mistress, Ophy Butler's wife, who
I sat till ten in the
is grown a little charmless.
evening with Addison and Steele: Steele will cer-
tainly lose his gazetteer's place, all the world de-
testing his engaging in parties. At ten I went to
the coffeehouse, hoping to find lord Radnor, whom
I had not seen. He was there; for an hour and a
half we talked treason heartily against the Whigs,
their baseness and ingratitude. And I am come
home rolling resentments in my mind, and framing
schemes of revenge: full of which (having written
down some hints) I go to bed. I am afraid MD
dined at home, because it is Sunday; and there was
the little half-pint of wine; for God's sake be good
girls, and all will be well. Ben Tooke was with me
this morning.
11. Seven morning. I am rising to go to Jervas,
to finish my picture, and it is shaving day, so good
morrow, MD; but do not keep me now, for I cannot
stay; and pray dine with the dean, but do not lose
your money. I long to hear from you, &c.-Ten
at night. I sat four hours this morning to Jervis,
who has given my picture quite another turn, and
now approves it entirely: but we must have the
approbation of the town. If I were rich enough I
would get a copy of it, and bring it over. Mr. Ad
dison and I dined together at his lodgings, and I sat
with him part of this evening; and I am now come
home to write an hour. Patrick observes that the
rabble here are much more inquisitive in politics.
than in Ireland. Every day we expect changes, and
the parliament to be dissolved. Lord Wharton£ ex-
pects every day to be out: he is working like a
horse for elections; and, in short, I never saw so
great a ferment among all sorts of people. I had a
n An Irish gentleman of fortune.
↳ Dr. Sterne, dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin.
The government premium for his mathematical sleaing
tables.
d Isaac Manley, esq., postmaster-general for Ireland.
e Sir Thomas Frankland, postmaster-general for England.
Who printed the TALE OF A TUB and other works for the
doctor.
Afterwards marquis, lord-lieutenant of Ireland.
A
miserable letter from Joe last Saturday, telling me
Mr. Pratt refuses payment of his money. I have
told it Mr. Addison, and will to lord Wharton; but
I fear with no success. However, I will do all I
can.
b
12. To-day I presented Mr. Ford to the duke of
Ormond and paid my first visit to lord presi-
dent; with whom I had much discourse; but put
him always off when he began of lord Wharton in
relation to me, till he urged it: then I said he knew
I never expected anything from lord Wharton, and
that lord Wharton knew that I understood it so.
He said that he had written twice to lord Wharton
about me, who both times said nothing at all to that
part of his letter. I am advised not to meddle in
the affair of the first-fruits till this hurry is a little
over, which still depends, and we are all in the dark.
Lord-president told me he expects every day to be
out, and has done so these two months. I protest,
upon my life, I am heartily weary of this town, and
wish I had never stirred.
13. I went this morning to the city to see Mr.
Stratford, the Hamburgh merchant, my old school-
fellow; but calling at Bull's on Ludgate-hill, he
forced me to his house at Hampstead to dinner,
among a great deal of ill company; among the rest
Mr. Hoadly, the Whig clergyman, so famous for
acting the contrary part to Sacheverell: but to-mor-
row I design again to see Stratford. I was glad
however to be at Hampstead, where I saw lady
Lucy and Moll Stanhope. I hear very unfortunate
news of Mrs. Long; she and her comrade bave
broke up house, and she is broke for good and all,
and is gone to the country: I should be extremely
sorry if this be true.
14. To-day I saw Patty Rolt, who heard I was in
town; and I dined with Stratford at a merchant's in
the city, where I drank the first tokay wine I ever
pected. Stratford is worth a plumb, and is now
saw; and it is admirable, yet not to a degree I ex-
lending the government forty thousand pounds; yet
we were educated together at the same school and
university. We hear the chancellor is to be suddenly
out, and sir Simon Harcourt to succeed him.
come early home, not caring for the coffeehouse.
I am
15. To-day Mr. Addison, colonel Freind, and I,
went to see the million lottery drawn at Guildhall.
The jackanapes of blue-coat boys gave themselves
such airs in pulling out the tickets, and showed
white hands open to the company, to let us see there
was no cheat. We dined at a country-house near
Chelsea, where Mr. Addison often retires; and to-
night at the coffeehouse; we hear sir Simon Har-
court is made lord keeper; so that now we expect
every moment the parliament will be dissolved; but
I forgot that this letter will not go in three or four
days, and that my news will be stale, which I should
therefore put in the last paragraph. Shall I send
this letter before I hear from MD, or shall I keep it
to lengthen? I have not yet seen Stella's mother,
because I will not see lady Giffard; but I will con-
trive to get there when lady Giffard is abroad.
forgot to mark my two former letters; but I remem-
ber this is number 3, and I have not yet had num-
ber 1 from MD.; but I shall by Monday, which I
reckon will be just a fortnight after you had my
first. I am resolved to bring over a great deal of
china. I loved it mightily to-day. What shall I
bring?
I
16. Morning.-Sir John Holland, comptroller of
the household, has sent to desire my acquaintavee;
I have a mind to refuse him, because he is a Whig,
* Vice treasurer of Ireland. b The celebrated lord Somers.
Benjamin Hoadly, afterwards bishop of Winchester.
C
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
141
and will, I suppose, ne out among the rest; but he
is a man of worth and learning. Tell me, do you
like this journal way of writing? Is it not tedious.
and dull?
Night. I dined to-day with a cousin, a printer,
where Patty Rolt lodges, and then came home, after
a visit or two; and it has been a very insipid day.
Mrs. Long's a misfortune is confirmed to me; bai-
liffs were in her house; she retired to private lodg-
ings; thence to the country, nobody knows where:
her friends leave letters at some inn, and they are
carried to her; and she writes answers, without
dating them from any place. I swear it grieves me
to the soul.
b
17. To-day I dined six miles out of town, with
Will Pate, the learned woollen-draper. Mr. Strat-
ford went with me: six miles here is nothing: we
left Pate after sunset, and were here before it was
lark. This letter shall go on Thursday, whether I
hear from MD or no. My health continues pretty
well; pray God Stella may give me a good account
of hers and I hope you are now at Trim, or soon
designing it. I was disappointed to-night; the fel-
low gave me a letter, and I hoped to see little MD's
hand; and it was only to invite me to a venison
pasty to-day so I lost my pasty into the bargain.
Pox on these declining courtiers. Here is Mr.
Brydges, the paymaster-general, desiring my ac-
quaintance; but I hear the queen sent lord Shrews-
bury to assure him he may keep his place; and he
promises me great assistance in the affair of the first-
fruits. Well, I must turn over this leaf to-night,
though the side would hold another line; but pray
consider this is a whole sheet: it holds a plaguy
deal, and you must be content to be weary; but I
will do so no more. Sir Simon Harcourt is made
attorney-general, and not lord-keeper.
18. To-day I dined with Mr. Stratford at Mr.
Addison's retirement near Chelsea; then came to
town; got home early, and began a letter to the
Tatler, about the corruptions of style and writing,
&c.; and having not heard from you, am resolved
this letter shall go to-night. Lord Wharton was
sent for to town in mighty haste by the duke of
Devonshire; they have some project in hand; but
it will not do, for every hour we expect a thorough
revolution, and that the parliament will be dissolved.
When you see Joe, tell him lord Wharton is too
busy to mind any of his affairs; but I will get what
good offices I can from Mr. Addison, and will write
to-day to Mr. Pratt; and bid Joe not to be discou-
raged, for I am confident he will get the money un-
der any government; but he must have patience.
19. I have been scribbling this morning, and I
believe shall hardly fill this side to-day, but send it
as it is; and it is good enough for naughty girls that
will not write to a body, and to a good boy like
Presto. I thought to have sent this to-night, but
was kept by company, and could not; and, to say
the truth, I had a little mind to expect one post more
for a letter from MD. Yesterday at noon died the
earl of Anglesea, the great support of the Tories;
so that employment of vice-treasurer of Ireland is
again vacant. We were to have been great friends,
and I could hardly have a loss that could grieve me
more. The bishop of St. David's (Dr. George Bull)
died the same day. The duke of Ormond's daugh-
ter was to visit me to-day at a third place by way
of advance, and I am to return it to-morrow. I have
• A celebrated beauty and toast of the Kit-cat Club, who re-
tired in her misfortune to Lynn, Norfolk, under an assumed
Rame.
Will Pate was a tradesman of such a turn for letters as to
be called the learned woollen-draper
I am
had a letter from lady Berkeley, begging me for
charity to come to Berkeley Castle, for company to
my lord, who has been ill of a dropsy; but I cannot
go, and must send my excuse to-morrow.
told that in a few hours there will be more removals.
20. To-day I returned my visits to the duke's
daughters; the insolent drabs came up to my very
mouth to salute me; then I heard the report con-
firmed of removals; my lord president Somers;
the duke of Devonshire, lord steward; and Mr.
Boyle, secretary of state, are all turned out to-day.
I never remember such bold steps taken by a court:
I am almost shocked at it, though I did not care
if they were all hanged. We are astonished why
the parliament is not yet dissolved, and why they
keep a matter of that importance to the last. We
shall have a strange winter here between the strug-
gles of a cunning provoked discarded party, and the
triumphs of one in power; of both which I shall be
an indifferent spectator, and return very peaceably
to Ireland, when I have done my part in the affair I
am entrusted with, whether it succeeds or not. To-
morrow I change my lodgings in Pall-mall for one
in Bury-street, where I suppose I shall continue
while I stay in London. If anything
If anything happens to-
morrow I will add it.
Robin's Coffeehouse.-We have great news just
now from Spain; Madrid taken and Pampeluna. I
am here ever interrupted.
21. I have just received your letter, which I will
not answer now; God be thanked all things are so
well. I find you have not yet had my second; I had
a letter from Parvisol, who tells me he gave Mrs.
Walls a bill of twenty pounds for me, to be given to
you; but you have not sent it. This night the par-
liament is dissolved: great news from Spain; king
Charles and Stanhope are at Madrid, and count
Staremberg has taken Pampeluna. Farewell. This
is from St. James's Coffeehouse. I will begin my
answer to your letter to-night, but not send it this
week. Pray, tell me whether you like this journal
way of writing. I do not like your reasons for not
going to Trim. Parvisol tells me he can sell your
horse. Sell it with a pox? Pray let him know that
he shall sell his soul as soon. What? sell anything
that Stella loves, and may sometimes ride? It is
hers, and let her do as she pleases: pray let him
know this by the first that you know goes to Trim.
Let him sell my gray and be hanged.
LETTER THE FOURTH.
London, Sept. 21, 1710.
HERE must I begin another letter, on a whole sheet,
for fear saucy little MD should be angry and think
much that the paper is too little. I had your letter
this night, as I told you just and no more in my
last; for this must be taken up in answering yours,
sauce-box. I believe I told you where I dined to-
day; and to-morrow I go out of town for two days to
dine with the same company on Sunday; Molesworth
the Florence envoy, Stratford, and some others.
I heard to-day that a gentlewoman from lady Git-
fard's house had been at the coffeehouse to inquire
for me. It was Stella's mother, I suppose. I shall
send her a penny-post letter to-morrow, and contrive
to see her without hazarding seeing lady Giffard,
which I will not do until she begs my pardon.
22. I dined to-day at Hampstead with lady Lucy,
&c., and when I got home found a letter from Joe,
• John Molesworth, envoy extraordinary to the king of Sar-
dinia, and afterwards to the states of Venice and Switzerland,
b A merchant in the city often mentioned.
142
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
with one enclosed to lord Wharton, which I will
send to his excellency, and second it as well as I
can; but to talk of getting the queen's orders is a
jest. Things are in such a combustion here, that I
am advised not to meddle yet in the affair I am
upon, which concerns the clergy of a whole king-
dom [the first fruits]; and does he think anybody
will trouble the queen about Joe? We shall, I
hope, get a recommendation from the lord-lieutenant
to the trustees for the linen business, and I hope
that will do; and so I will write to him in a few
days, and he must have patience. This is an answer
to part of your letter as well as his. I lied, it is to-
morrow I go to the country; and I will not answer
a bit more of your letter yet.
23. Here is such a stir and bustle with this little
MD of ours; I must be writing every night; I can-
not go to bed without a word to them; I cannot put
out my candle till I have bid them good night; O
Lord, O Lord! Well, I dined the first time to-day
with Will Frankland and his fortune; she is not
very handsome. Did I not say I would go out of
town to-day? I hate lying abroad and clutter; I go
to-morrow in Frankland's chariot, and come back
at night. Lady Berkeley has invited me to Berkeley
Castle, and lady Betty Germain to Drayton in
Northamptonshire, and I will go to neither. Let
me alone, I must finish my pamphlet. I have sent
a long letter to Bickerstaff: let the bishop of Clog-
her smoke it if he can. Well, I will write to the
bishop of Killala: but you might have told him
how sudden and unexpected my journey was though.
Deuce take lady S; and if I know D——y,
he is a rawboned faced fellow, not handsome, nor
visibly so young as you say: she sacrifices two
thousand pounds a year, and keeps only six hun-
dred. Well, you have had all my land journey in
my second letter, and so much for that.
have got into Presto's lodgings; very fine, truly!
We have had a fortnight of the most glorious weather
on earth, and still continues: I hope you have made
the best of it. Ballygall will be a pure good place
for air, if Mrs. Ashe makes good her promise. Stella
writes like an emperor; I am afraid it hurts your
eyes; take care of that, pray, pray, Mrs. Stella.
Cannot you do what you will with your own horse?
Pray do not let that puppy Parvisol sell him.
Patrick is drunk about three times a week, and I
bear it, and he has got the better of me; but one of
these days I will positively turn him off to the wide
world, when none of you are by to intercede for
him.-Stuff-how can I get her husband into the
Charter-house?-Get a
into the Charter-
So you
house.Write constantly! Why, sirrah, do not
I write every day, and sometimes twice a day, to
MD? Now I have answered all your letter, and
the rest must be as it can be; send me my bill.
Tell Mrs. Brent what I of the Charter-house.
say
1 think this enough for one night; and so farewell
till this time to-morrow.
24. To-day I dined six miles out of town at Will
Pate's with Stratford, Frankland, and the Moles-
worths, and came home at night, and was weary
and lazy. I can say no more now, but good night.
25. I was so lazy to-day that I dined at next door,
and have sat at home since six, writing to the bishop
of Clogher, dean Sterne, and Mr. Manley: the last,
because I am in fear for him about his place, and
have sent him my opinion, what I and his other
friends here think he ought to do. I hope he will
a In these broken ejaculations he answers the paragraphs of
the lady's letter
b Housekeeper to the doctor.
• No doubt at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's.
take it well. My advice was, to keep as much in
favour as possible with sir Thomas Frankland, his
master here.
26. Smoke how I widen the margin by lying in
bed when I write. My bed lies on the wrong side for
me, so that I am forced often to write when I am up.
Manley, you must know, has had people putting in
for his place already; and has been complained of
for opening letters. Remember that last Sunday,
| September 24, 1710, was as hot as Midsummer.
This was written in the morning; it is now night,
and Presto in bed. Here's a clutter, I have gotten
MD's second letter, and I must answer it here. I
gave the bill to Tooke, and so-Well, I dined to-
day with sir John Holland the comptroller, and sat
with him till eight; then came home and sent my
letters, and writ part of a lampoon,a which goes on
very slow, and now I am writing to saucy MD; no
wonder, indeed, good boys must write to naughty
girls. I have not seen your mother yet; my penny-
post letter, I suppose, miscarried: I will write another.
Mr. Scame to see me, and said M-
Mwas
going to the country next morning with her husband,
(who I find is a surly brute), so I could only desire
my service to her.
|
|
27. To-day all our company dined at Will Frank-
land's, with Steele and Addison too. This is the
first rainy day since I came to town; I cannot afford
to answer your letter yet. Morgan, the puppy,
writ me a long letter to desire I would recommend
him for purse-bearer or secretary to the next lord
chancellor that would come with the next governor.
I will not answer him; but beg you will say these
words to his father, Raymond, or anybody that will
tell him that Dr. Swift has received his letter, and
would be very ready to serve him, but cannot do it
in what he desires, because he has no sort of interest
in the persons to be applied to. These words you
may write, and let Joe, or Mr. Warburton, give
them to him--a pox on him! However, it is by
these sort of ways that fools get preferment. I must
not end yet, because I cannot say good night with-
out losing a line, and then MD would scold; but
now, good night.
28. I have the finest piece of Brazil tobacco for
Dingley that ever was born. You talk of Leigh;
why, he will not be in Dublin these two months:
he goes to the country, then returns to London, to
see how the world goes here in parliament. Good
night, sirrahs; no, no, not night; I wrote this in
the morning, and looking carelessly I thought it had
been of last night. I dined to-day with Mrs. Barton
alone at her lodgings, where she told me for certain
that lady S was with child when she was last
in England, and pretended a tympany, and saw
everybody; then disappeared for three weeks, her
tympany was gone, and she looked like a ghost, &c.
No wonder she married when she was so ill at con-
taining. Conolly is out, and Mr. Roberts in his
place, who loses a better here, but was formerly a
commissioner in Ireland. That employment cost
Conolly three thousand pounds to lord Wharton ;
so has made one ill bargain in his life.
I dined
29. I wish MD a merry Michaelmas.
with Mr. Addison, and Jervas the painter, at Addi-
son's country place; and then came home, and wrote
more to my lampoon. I made a Tatler since I came
guess which it is, and whether the bishop of Clogher
smokes it. I saw Mr. Sterne to-day: he will do as
you order, and I will give him chocolate for Stella's
• The Virtues of Sid Hamet the Magician's Rod. A satire
on Godolphin.
The doctor's curate at his living of Laracor.
e A commissioner of the revenue, afterwards speaker.
health.
JOURNAL 10 STELLA.
He goes not these three weeks. I wish I
I wish I
could send it some other way. So now to your
letter, brave boys. I do not like your way of saving
shillings nothing vexes me but that it does not
make Stella a coward in a coach. I do not think
any lady's advice about my ears signifies twopence;
however I will, in compliance to you, ask Dr. Cock-
burn. Radcliffe I know not, and Bernard I never
see.
143
begin writing letters in whole sheets? and now i
dare not leave it off. I cannot tell whether you like
these journal letters: I believe they would be dull
to me to read them over; but perhaps little MD
is pleased to know how Presto passes his time in
her absence.
I always begin my last the same day
I ended the former. I told you where I dined to-
day at a tavern with Stratford: Lewis, who is a
great favourite of Harley's, was to have been with
us; but he was hurried to Hampton Court, and
sent his excuse, and that next Wednesday he would
introduce me to Harley. It is good to see what
a lamentable confession the Whigs all make me
of my ill usage; but I mind them not. I am al-
ready represented to Harley as a discontented per-
son, that was used ill for not being Whig enough;
and I hope for good usage from him. The Tories
drily tell me I may make my fortune if I please;
but I do not understand them, or rather I do under-
stand them.
October 1. To-day I dined at Molesworth's, the
Florence envoy; and sat this evening with my friend
Darteneuf, whom you have heard me talk of; the
greatest punner of this town next myself. Have you
smoked the Tatler that I writ? it is much liked
here, and I think it a pure one. To-morrow I go
with Delaval the Portugal envoy to dine with lord
Your Manley's bro-
Halifax near Hampton Court.
Walls [archdeacon} will certainly be stingier
for seven years, upon pretence of his robbery. So
Stella puns again; why, it is well enough; but I
will not second it, though I could make a dozen: I
never thought of a pun since I left Ireland.-Bishop
of Clogher's bill? why, he paid it me; do you think
I was such a fool to go without it? As for the four
shillings, I will give you a bill on Parvisol for it on
the other side this paper; and pray tear off the two
letters I shall write to him and Joe, or let Dingley
transcribe and send them; though that to Parvisol,
I believe, he must have my hand for.-No, no, I will
eat no grapes; I eat about six the other day at sir
John Holland's; but would not give sixpence for a
thousand, they are so bad this year. Yes, faith, I
hope in God Presto and MD will be together this
time twelvemonth; what then? Last year, I sup-
pose, I was at Laracor; but next I hope to eat my
Michaelmas goose at my little goose's lodgings. I
drink no aile (I suppose you mean ale), but yet
good wine every day, of five and six shillings a bot-ther, a parliament-man here, has gotten an em-
tle. O Lord, how much Stella writes; pray do not ployment, and I am informed uses much interest to
carry that too far, young women, but be temperate preserve his brother: and to-day I spoke to the
to hold out. To-morrow I go to Mr. Harley. Why elder Frankland to engage his father (postmaster
small hopes from the duke of Ormond? he loves here), and I hope he will be safe, although he is
me very well, I believe, and would in my turn give cruelly hated by all the Tories of Ireland. I have
me something to make me easy; and I have good almost finished my lampoon, and will print it for
interest among his best friends. But I do not think revenge on a certain great person [the earl of Go-
of anything further than the business I am upon: dolphin]. It has cost me but three shillings in meat
and drink since I came here, as thin as the town is.
you see I wrote to Manley before I had your letter,
and I fear he will be out. Yes, Mrs. Owl, Blighe's
I laugh to see myself so disengaged in these revolu-
tions.
corpse came to Chester when I was there, and I told
Well, I must leave off and go write to sir
you so in my letter, or forgot it. I lodge in Bury- John Stanley to desire him to engage lady Hyde as
street, where I removed a week ago. I have the my mistress, to engage lord Hyde in favour of
first floor, a dining-room and bed-chamber, at eight Mr. Pratt.
shillings a week; plaguy deep, but I spend nothing
for eating never go to a tavern, and very seldom,
in a coach; yet after all it will be expensive. Why do
you trouble yourself, Mistress Stell, about my instru-
ment? I have the same the archbishop gave me;
and it is as good now the bishops are away. The
dean friendly! The dean be pox'd: a great piece
of friendship indeed, what you heard him tell the
bishop of Clogher; I wonder he had the face to talk
so: but he lent me money, and that is enough. Faith
I would not send this these four days, only for writing
to Joe and Parvisol. Tell the dean that when the
bishops send me any packets, they must not write to
me at Mr. Stecle's; but direct for Steele, at his office
at the Cockpit; and let the enclosed be directed for
me; that mistake cost me eighteenpence the other
day.
2. Lord Halifax was at Hampton Court at his
lodgings, and I dined with him there with Methuenb
and Delaval and the late attorney-general. I went
to the drawing-room before dinner (for the queen
was at Hampton Court), and expected to see nobody,
but I met acquaintance enough. I walked in the
gardens, saw the cartoons of Raphael, and other
things, and with great difficulty got from lord Ha-
lifax, who would have kept me to-morrow to show
me his house and park and improvements. We left
Hampton Court at sunset, and got here in a chariot
and two horses time enough by starlight. That's some-
thing charms me mightily about London; that you
go dine a dozen miles off in October, stay all day,
and return so quickly; you cannot do anything like
this in Dublin. writ a second penny-post letter
to your mother, and hear nothing of her. Did I tell
30. I dined with Stratford to-day, but am not to
you that earl Berkeley died last Sunday was se’en-
see Mr. Harley till Wednesday: it is late, and I night at Berkeley Castle, of a dropsy? Lord Halifax
send this before there is occasion for the bell; be-began a health to me to-day: it was the resurrection
cause I would have Joe have his letter, and Parvisol
too: which you must so contrive as not to cost
them double postage. I can say no more, but that
I am,
&c.
LETTER THE FIFTH.
London, Sept. 30, 1710.
HAVE not I brought myself into a fine premunire to
1
of the Whigs, which I refused, unless he would add
their reformation too: and I told him he was the only
Whig in England I loved, or had any good opinion
of.
3. This morning Stella's sister came to me with a
letter from her mother, who is at Sheen, but will
soon be in town, and will call to see me: she gave
me a bottle of palsy-water, a small one, and desired
I would send it you by the first convenience, as 1
• Erasmus Lewis, secretary to the cail of Dartmouth.
Sir Paul Methuen, ambassador at the court of 1 ortugal,
144
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
will; and she promises a quart bottle of the saine:
your sister looked very well, and seems a good mo-
dest sort of girl. I went then to Mr. Lewis, first
secretary to lord Dartmouth and favourite to Mr.
Harley, who is to introduce me to-morrow morning.
Lewis had with him one Mr. Dyot, a justice of
peace, worth twenty thousand pounds, a commis-
sioner of the stamp-office, and married to a sister of
sir Philip Meadows, envoy to the emperor. I tell
you this, because it is odds but this Mr. Dyot will
be hanged; for he is discovered to have counter-
feited stamp-paper, in which he was a commissioner;
and, with his accomplices, has cheated the queen of
a hundred thousand pounds. You will hear of it
before this come to you, but may be not so particu-
larly; and it is a very odd accident in such a man.
Smoke Presto writing news to MD. I dined to-day
with lord Mountjoy at Kensington, and walked
from thence this evening to town like an emperor.
Remember that yesterday, October 2, was a cruel
hard frost, with ice; and six days ago I was dying
with heat. As thin as the town is, I have more din-
ners than ever, and am asked this month by some
people, without being able to come for pre-engage-
Well, but I should write plainer, when I
consider Stella cannot read, and Dingley is not so
skilful at my ugly hand. I had to-night a letter
from Mr. Pratt, who tells me Joe will have his
money when there are trustees appointed by the
lord-lieutenant for receiving and disposing the linen
fund; and whenever those trustees are appointed I
will solicit whoever is lord-lieutenant, and am in no
fear of succeeding. So pray tell or write him word,
and bid him not be cast down; for Ned Southwell c
and Mr. Addison both think Pratt in the right. Do
not lose your money at Manley's to-night, sirrahs.
ments.
I am
4. After I had put out my candle last night, my
landlady came into my room with a servant of lord
Halifax to desire I would go dine with him at his
house near Hampton Court; but I sent him word
I had business of great importance that hindered
me, &c.
And to-day I was brought privately to
Mr. Harley, who received me with the greatest re-
spect and kindness imaginable: he has appointed
me an hour on Saturday at four, afternoon, when I
will open my business to him; which expression I
would not use if I were a woman.
I know you
smoked it; but I did not till I writ it. I dined to-
day at Mr. Delaval's, the envoy of Portugal, with
Nic Rowe the poet, and other friends; and I gave
my lampoon to be printed. I have more mischief
in my heart; and I think it shall go round with
them all, as this hits, and I can find hints.
certain I answered your 2nd letter, and yet I do not
find it here. I suppose it was in my 4th; and why
N. 2nd, 3rd? is it not enough to say, as I do, 1, 2,
3, &c.? I am going to work at another Tatler: I
will be far enough but I say the same thing over
two or three times, just as I do when I am talking to
little MD; but what care I? they can read it as
casily as I can write it: I think I have brought
these lines pretty straight again. I fear it will be
long before I finish two sides at this rate. Pray,
dear MD, when I occasionally give you a little com-
mission mixed with my letters, do not forget it, as
that to Morgan and Joe, &c., for I write just as I
can remember, otherwise I would put them all
together. I was to visit Mr. Sterne to-day, and gave
him your commission about handkerchiefs: that of
chocolate I will do myself, and send it him when he
Je was tried for felony at the Old Bailey, January 13th,
1710-11, and acquitted.
b Owing to her shortness of sight.
A privy counsellor, and secretary of state for Ireland.
goes, and you will pay me when the givers bread,
&c. To-night I will read a pamphlet to amuse my-
self. God
God preserve your dear healths.
5. This morning Delaval came to see me, and we
went to Kneller's," who was not in town. In the
way we met the electors for parliament-men: and
the rabble came about our coach, crying a Colt, a
Stanhope, &c. We were afraid of a dead cat, or our
glasses broken, and so were always of their side.b I
dined again at Delaval's, and in the evening at the
coffeehouse heard sir Andrew Fountaine was come to
town. This has been but an insipid sort of day,
and I have nothing to remark upon it worth three-
pence: I hope MD had a better with the dean, the
bishop, or Mrs. Walls. Why, the reason you lost
four and eightpence last night but one at Manley's
was because you played bad games; I took notice
of six that you had ten to one against you: Would
any but a mad lady go out twice upon manilio,
basto, and two small diamonds? Then, in that
game of spades, you blundered when you had ten
ace; I never saw the like of you: and now you are
in a huff because I tell you this. Well, here is two
and eightpence halfpenny toward your loss.
6. Sir Andrew Fountaine came this morning and
caught me writing in bed. I went into the city
with him, and we dined at the chophouse with Will
Pate the learned woollen-draper: then we saun-
tered at china-shops and booksellers; went to the
tavern, drank two pints of white wine, and never
parted till ten: and now I am come home, and
must copy out some papers I intend for Mr. Harley,
whom I am to see, as I told you, to-morrow after-
noon so that this night I shall say little to MD,
but that I heartily wish myself with them, and will
come as soon as I either fail or compass my business.
We now hear daily of elections; and, in a list I saw
yesterday of about twenty, there are seven or eight
more Tories than in the last parliament; so that I
believe they need not fear a majority, with the help
of those who will vote as the court pleases. But I
have been told that Mr. Harley himself would not
let the Tories be too numerous, for fear they should
be insolent and kick against him; and for that rea-
son they have kept several Whigs in employments,
who expected to be turned out every day; as sir
John Holland the comptroller, and many others.
And so get you gone to your cards and your claret
and orange at the dean's, and I will go write.
At
7. I wonder when this letter will be finished: it
must go by Tuesday, that is certain; and if I have
one from MD before, I will not answer it, that is as
certain too! It is now morning, and I did not finish
my papers for Mr. Harley last night; for you must
understand Presto was sleepy, and made blunders
and blots. Very pretty that I must be writing to
young women in a morning fresh and fasting, faith.
Well, good morrow to you: and so I go to business,
and lay aside this paper till night, sirrahs.
night.-Jack Howe told Harley "that if there were
a lower place in hell than another, it was reserved
for his porter, who tells lies so gravely and with so
civil a manner." This porter I have had to deal
with, going this evening at four to visit Mr. Harley,
by his own appointment. But the fellow told me
no lie, though I suspected every word he said. He
told me "his master was just gone to dinner with
much company, and desired I would come an hour
hence," which I did, expecting to hear Mr. Harley
was gone out; but they had just done dinner.
Harley came out to me, brought me in, and pre-
Sir Godfrey Kneller's the painter.
The Westminster election was closely contested.
Dr. Sterne, dean of St. Patrick's.
Mr.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
140
sented me to his son-in-law lord Doblanea (or some
such name), and his own son, and among others
Will Penn the Quaker: we sat two hours drinking
as good wine as you do; and two hours more he
and I alone; where he heard me tell my business,
entered into it with all kindness, asked for my
powers, and read them; and read likewise a me-
morial I had drawn up, and put it in his pocket to
show the queen, told me the measures he would
take, and, in short, said everything I could wish;
told me he must bring Mr. St. John, secretary of
state [the celebrated lord Bolingbroke], and me
acquainted; and spoke so many things of personal
kindness and esteem for me, that I am inclined half
to believe what some friends have told me, that he
would do everything to bring me over.
He has de-
sired to dine with me (what a comical mistake was
that!)-I mean he has desired me to dine with him
on Tuesday, and, after four hours being with him,
set me down at St. James's Coffeehouse in a hackney
coach. All this is odd and comical, if you consider
him and me. He knew my christian name very
well. I could not forbear saying thus much upon
this matter, although you will think it tedious. But
I will tell you: you must know it is fatal to me
to be a scoundrel and a prince the same day; for
being to see him at four, I could not engage my self
to dine at any friend's; so I went to Tooke to give
him a ballad and dine with him, but he was not at
home; so I was forced to go to a blind chophouse,
and dine for tenpence upon gill ale, bad broth, and
three chops of mutton; and then go reeking from
thence to the first minister of stats. And now I am
going in charity to send Steele a Tatler, who is very
low of late. I think I am civiller than I used to be,
and have not used the expression of "you in Ireland"
and "we in England," as I did when I was here
before, to your great indignation. They may talk of
They may talk of
the
.b
know what but, gad, if it had not been for
you
that I should never have been able to get the access
I have had; and if that helps me to succeed, then
that same thing will be serviceable to the church.
But how far we must depend upon new friends
I have learnt by long practice, though I think, among
great ministers, they are just as good as old ones.
And so I think this important day has made a great
hole in this side of the paper; and the fiddle- faddles
of to-morrow and Monday will make up the rest;
and, besides, I shall see Harley on Tuesday before
this letter goes.
8. I must tell you a great piece of refinement of
Harley. He charged me to come to him often; I
told him I was loth to trouble him in so much busi-
ness as he had, and desired I might have leave to
come at his levec; which he immediately refused,
and said, "That was not a place for friends to come
to."
It is now but morning, and I have got a
foolish trick; I must say something to MD when I
wake, and wish them a good morrow; for this is
not a shaving day, Sunday, so I have time enough:
but get you gone, you rogues, I must go write: yes,
it will vex me to the blood if any of these long let-
ters should miscarry if they do I will shrink to
half-sheets again; but then what will you do to
make up the journal? there will be ten days of
Presto's life lost, and that will be a sad thing, faith
and troth.-At night. I was at a loss to-day for a
dinner, unless I would have gone a great way, so I
dined with some friends that board hereabout, as a
:
George Henry Hay, viscount Dupplin, eldest son to the
Barl of Kiunoul.
b These words plainly refer to the Tale of a Tub," for
which he had been censured by many of his own profession;
but the ministers were dreadfully afraid of Swift's sature and
powers when launched at them
VOL. I.
spunger; and this evening sir Andrew Fountaine
would needs have me go to the tavern, where, for
two bottles of wine, Portugal and Florence, among
three of us, we had sixteen shillings to pay; but if
ever he catches me so again, I will spend as many
pounds and therefore I have put it among my ex-
traordinaries; but we had a neck of mutton dressed
ò la Maintenon, that the dcg could not eat; and it
is now twelve o'clock, and I must go sleep. I hope
this letter will go before I have MD's third.
Do
you believe me? and yet faith I long for MD's third
too; and yet I would have it to say that I write five
for two. I am not fond at all of St. James's Coffee-
house as I used to be. I hope it will mend in win-
ter;
but now they are all out of town at elections,
or not come from their country houses. Yesterday
I was going with Dr. Garth to dine with Charles
Main,
Main, near the Tower, who has an employment
there; he is of Ireland: the bishop of Cloghe
knows him well; an honest, good-natured fellow, a
thorough hearty laugher, mightily beloved by the
men of wit; his mistress is never above a cook-
maid. And so good night, &c.
I am
9. I dined to-day at sir John Stanley's: my lady
Stanley is one of my favourites: I have as many
here as the bishop of Killala has in Ireland.
thinking what scurvy company I shall be to MD
when I come back: they know everything of me
already: I will tell you no more, or I shall have
nothing to say, no story to tell, nor any kind of
thing. I was very uneasy last night with ugly,
nasty, filthy wine, that turned sour on my stomach. I
must go to the tavern! O, but I told you that before.
To-morrow I dine at Harley's, and will finish this
letter at my return; but I can write no more now,
because of the archbishop: faith it is true; for I
am going now to write to him an account of what I
have done in the business with Harley: and faith,
young women, I will tell you what you must count
upon, that I never will write one word on the third
side in these long letters.
ג
10. Poor MD's letter was lying so huddle up
among papers I could not find it: I mean poor
Presto's letter. Well, I dined with Mr. Harley to-
day, and hope some things will be done, but I must
say no more; and this letter must be sent to the
post-house, and not by the bellman. I am to dine
again there on Sunday next; I hope to some good
issue. And so now, soon as ever I can in bed, I
must begin my 6th to MD as gravely as if I had
not written a word this month: fine doings, faith.
Methinks I do not write as I should, because I am
not in bed see the ugly wide lines. God Al-
mighty ever bless you, &c.
Faith, this is a whole treatise; I will go reckon
the lines on the other sides. I have reckoned
them.a
LETTER THE SIXTH.
London, Oct. 10, 1710.
So, as I told you just now in the letter I sent half
an hour ago, I dined with Mr. Hailey to-day, who
presented me to the attorney-general, sir Simon
Harcourt, with much compliment on all sides, &c.
Harley told me he had shown my memorial to the
queen, and seconded it very heartily; and he desires
me to dine with him again on Sunday, when he
promises to settle it with her majesty before she
names a governor; and I protest I am in hopes it
will be done all but the forms by that time, for he
loves the church: this is a popular thing, and he
would not have a governor share in it; and besides
I am told by all hands he has a mind to gain me
Seventy-three lines in folio, small hand, upon one side,
a
L
146
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
cver.
But in the letter I writ last post (yesterday) |
to the archbishop I did not tell him a syllable of
what Mr. Harley said to me last night, because he
charged me to keep it secret; so I would not tell
it to you, but that before this goes 1 hope the secret
will be over. I am now writing my poetical de-
scription of a Shower in London, and will send it to
the Tatler. This is the last sheet of a whole quire
I have written since I came to town. Pray, now it
comes into my head, will yon, when you go to Mrs.
Wall, contrive to know whether Mrs. Wesley be in
town, and still at her brother's, and how she is in
health, and whether she stays in town? I writ to
her from Chester to know what I should do with
her note, and I believe the poor woman is afraid to
write to me; so I must go to my business, &c.
11. To-day at last I dined with lord Montrath,
and carried lord Mountjoy and sir Andrew Foun-
taine with me; and was looking over them at
ombre till eleven this evening like a fool: they
played running ombre half-crowns; and sir An-
drew Fountaine won cight guineas of Mr. Coote:
so I am come home late, and will say but little to
MD this night. I have gotten half a bushel of coals,
and Patrick, the extravagant whelp, had a fire ready
for me; but I picked off the coals before I went to
bed. It is a sign London is now an empty place,
when it will not furnish me with matter for above
five or six lines in a day. Did you smoke in my
last how I told you the very day and the place you
were playing ombre ? a But I interlined and altered
a little, after I had received a letter from Mr. Man-
ley, that said you were at it in his house while he
was writing to me; but without his help I guessed
within one day. Your town is certainly much more
sociable than ours. I have not seen your mother
yet, &c.
myself to the accidents of the day; and so get you
gone to ombre, and be good girls and save your mo-
ney, and be rich against Presto comes, and write to
me now and then: I am thinking it would be a
pretty thing to hear something from saucy MD; but
do not hurt your eyes, Stella, I charge you.
13. O Lord, here is but a trifle of my letter writ-
ten yet; what shall Presto do for prittle-prattle tʊ
entertain MD? The talk now grows fresher of the
duke of Ormond for Ireland, though Mr. Addison
says he hears it will be in commission, and lord
Galway a one. These letters of mine are a soit of
journal where matters open by degrees; and, as 1
tell true or false, you will find by the event whether
my intelligence be good: but I do not care two-
pence whether it be or no. At night.-To-day 1
was all about St. Paul's, and up at the top like a
fool, with sir Andrew Fountaine and two more;
and spent seven shillings for my dinner like a
puppy; this is the second time he has served me so;
but I will never do it again, though all mankind
should persuade me : unconsidering puppies! There
is a young fellow here in town we are all fond of,
and about a year or two come from the university,
one Harrison, a little, pretty fellow, with a great
deal of wit, good sense, and good nature; has writ-
ten some mighty pretty things; that in your 6th
Miscellanea about the Sprig of an Orange is his: he
has nothing to live on but being governor to one of
the duke of Queensberry's sons for forty pounds.
a-year. The fine fellows are always inviting him
to the tavern, and make him pay his club. Henley
is a great crony of his: they are often at the tavern
at six or seven shillings reckoning, and always make
the poor lad pay his full share.
his full share. A colonel and a
lord were at him and me the same way to-night: I
absolutely refused, and made Harrison lag behind,
12. I dined to-day with Dr. Garth and Mr. and persuaded him not to go to them.
I tell you
Addison, at the Devil Tavern, by Temple Bar, and this, because I find all rich fellows have that humour
Garth treated; and it is well I dine every day, else of using all people without any consideration of their
I should be longer making out my letters: for we fortunes; but I will see them rot before they shall
are yet in a very dull state, only inquiring every day serve me so. Lord Halifax is always teazing me to
after new elections, where the Tories carry it among go down to his country house, which will cost me a
the new members six to one. Mr. Addison's elec-guinea to his servants, and twelve shillings coach-
tion [for Malmesbury] has passed easy and undis-
puted; and I believe if he had a mind to be chosen
king he would hardly be refused. An odd accident
has happened at Colchester: one captain Lavallin,
coming from Flanders or Spain, found his wife with
child by a clerk of Doctors' Commons, whose trade,
you know, it is to prevent fornication; and this clerk
was the very same fellow that made the discovery of
Djot's counterfeiting the stamp-paper. Lavallin
has been this fortnight hunting after the clerk to
kill him; but the fellow was constantly employed
at the treasury about the discovery he made: the
wife had made a shift to patch up the business,
alleging that the clerk had told her her husband was
dead, and other excuses; but the other day some-
body told Lavallin his wife had intrigues before he
married her: upon which he goes down in a rage,
shoots his wife through the head, then falls on his
sword; and, to make the matter sure, at the same
time discharges a pistol through his own head, and
died on the spot, his wife surviving him about two
hours; but in what circumstances of mind and body
is terrible to imagine. I have finished my poem
on the Shower, all but the beginning, and am going
on with my Tatler. They have fixed about fifty
things on me since I came: I have printed but
three. One advantage I get by writing to you
daily, or rather you get, is that I remember not to
write the same things twice; and yet I fear I have
done it often already: but I will mind and confine
See Journal. October 5th
:
hire; and he shall be hanged first. Is not this a
plaguy silly story? But I am vexed at the heart;
for I love the young fellow, and am resolved to stir
up people to do something for him he is a Whig,
and I will put him upon some of my cast Whigs;
for I have done with them, and they have I hope
done with this kingdom for our time. They were
sure of the four members for London above all
places, and they have lost three in the four. Sir
Richard Onslow we hear hast lost for Suriey; and
they are overthrown in most places. Lockee, gen-
tlewomen, if I write long letters I must write you
news and stuff, unless I send you my verses, and
some I dare not; and those on the Shower in Lon-
don I have sent to the Tatler [vol. x.], and you
may see them in Ireland. I fancy you will smoke
me in the Tatler [No. 258] I am going to write;
for I believe I have told you the hint. I had a
letter sent me to-night from sir Matthew Dudley,
and found it on my table when I came in. Because
it is extraordinary I will transcribe it from begin-
ning to end. It is as follows:-[" Is the devil in
you?
you? Oct. 13, 1710."] I would have answered
every particular passage in it, only I wanted time.
Here is enough for to-night, such as it is, &c.
14. Is that tobacco at the top of the paper, or
what? I do not remember I slobbered. Lord, I
a A French protestant refugee; the same who lost the battie
of Almanza.
By Swift's interest promoted to a secretaryship, under
lord Raby, al assador at Utreda
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
147
|
dreamed of Stella, &c., so confusedly last night, and
that we saw dean Bolton and Sterne go into a
shop; and she bid me call them to her, and they
proved to be two parsons I knew not; and I walked
without till she was shifting, and such stuff, mixed
with much melancholy and uneasiness, and things
not as they should be, and I know not how; and it
is now an ugly gloomy morning. At night.-Mr.
Addison and I dined with Ned Southwell, and
walked in the park; and at the coffeehouse I found
a letter from the bishop of Clogher, and a packet
from MD. I opened the bishop's letter; but put up
MD's, and visited a lady just come to town, and ani
now got into bed, and going to open your little
letter and God send I may find MD well, and
happy, and merry, and that they love Presto as they
do fires. O, I will not open it yet! yes I will! no
I will not; I am going; I cannot stay till I turn
over: a what shall I do! my fingers itch and I now
have it in my left hand; and now I will open it this
very moment.—I have just got it, and am cracking
the seal, and cannot imagine what is in it; I fear
only some letter from a bishop, and it comes too
late: I shall employ nobody's credit but my own.
Well, I see though-Pshaw, it is from sir Andrew
Fountaine what, another! I fancy that is from
Mrs. Barton; b she told me she would write to me;
but she writes a better hand than this: I wish you
would inquire; it must be at Dawson's office at
the castle. I fear this is from Patty Rolt, by the
scrawl. Well, I will read MD's letter. Ah, no: it is
from poor lady Berkeley, to invite me to Berkeley
castle this winter; and now it grieves my heart:
she says she hopes my lord is in a fair way of reco-
very poor lady. Well, now I go to MD's letter:
faith it is all right; I hoped it was wrong.
letter, No. 3, that I have now received, is dated
Sept. 28, and Manley's letter, that I had five days
ago, was dated Oct. 3, that is a fortnight's differ-
ence: I doubt it has lain in Steele's office, and he
forgot. Well, there is an end of that: he is turned
out of his place; and you must desire those who
send me packets to enclose them in a paper di-
rected to Mr. Addison, at St. James's coffeehouse:
not common letters, but packets: the bishop of
Clogher may mention it to the archbishop when he
sees him. As for your letter, it makes me mad:
Hidikins, I have been the best boy in Christendom,
and you come with your two eggs a-penny —Well ;
but stay. I will look over my book; adad, I think
there was a chasm between my No. 2 and No. 3.
Faith, I will not promise to write to you every
week; but I will write every night, and when it is
full I will send it; that will be once in ten days,
and that will be often enough: and if you begin to
take up the way of writing to Presto, only because it
is Tuesday, a Monday bedad, it will grow a task:
but write when you have a mind.-No, no, no, no,
no, no, no, no.-Agad, agad, agad, agad, agad,
agad; no, poor Stellakins. Slids, I would the horse
were in your-chamber. Have I not ordered Par-
Have I not ordered Par-
visol to obey your directions about him? and have
not I said in my former letters, that you may pickle
him, and boil him if you will? What do you trouble
me about your horses for? Have I anything to do
with them!-Revolutions a hindrance to me in my
business; revolutions-to me in my business? if it
were not for the revolutions I could do nothing at
all; and now I have all hopes possible, though one is
That is, to the next page.
Your
Niece to sir Isaac Newton, and widow of colonel Bartou.
A favourite among the toasts of the Kit-cat Club.
e Joshua Dawson, esq., secretary to the lord justices of
Heland
1
|
certain of nothing; but to-morrow I am to have an
answer, and am promised an effectual one. I
suppose I have said enough in this and a former
letter how I stand with new people: ten times
better than ever I did with the old; forty times
more caressed. I am to dine to-morrow at Mr.
Harley's; and if he continues as he has begun, no
man has been ever better treated by another. What
you say about Stella's mother, I have spoken enough
to it already. I believe she is not in town; for I
have not yet seen her. My lampoon is cried up to
the skies; but nobody suspects me for it, except sır
Andrew Fountaine at least they say nothing of it
Did not I tell you of a great man who re-
ceived me very coldly! [lord Godolphin] that is
he; but say nothing; it was only a little revenge.
I will remember to bring it over. The bishop of
Clogher has smoked my Tatler [No. 230] about
shortening of words, &c. But, God so! &c.
to me.
He
15. I will write plainer, if I can remember it;
for Stella must not spoil her eyes, and Dingley can-
not read my hand very well; and I am afraid my
letters are too long: then you must suppose one to
be two, and read them at twice. I dined to-day
with Mr. Harley: Mr. Prior dined with us.
has left my memorial with the queen, who has con-
sented to give the first-fruits and twentieth parts,
and will, we hope, declare it to-morrow in the
cabinet. But I beg you to tell it to no person alive;
for so I am ordered, till in public; and I hope to
get something of greater value. After dinner came
in lord Peterborow: we renewed our acquaintance.
and he grew mightily fond of me. They began to
talk of a paper of verses called Sid Hamet. Mr.
Harley repeated part, and then pulled them out.
and gave them to a gentlemen at the table to read,
though they had all read them often: lord Peter-
borow would let nobody read them but himself: so
he did; and Mr. Harley bobbed me at every line to
take notice of the beauties. Prior rallied lord
Peterborow for author of them; and lord Peter-
borow said he knew them to be his; and Prior
then turned it upon me, and I on him. I am not
guessed at all in town to be the author; yet so it is:
but that is a secret only to you. Ten to one whether
you see them in Ireland; yet here they run prodi-
giously. Harley presented me to lord president of
Scotland,a and Mr. Benson, a lord of the treasury.
Prior and I came away at nine, and sat at the
Smyrna till eleven, receiving acquaintance.
16. This morning early I went in a chair, and
Patrick before it, to Mr. Harley, to give him
another copy of my memorial, as he desired; but he
was full of business, going to the queen, and I could
not see him; but he desired I would send up the
paper, and excused himself upon his hurry. I was
a little baulked, but they tell me it is nothing. I
shall judge by my next visit. I tipped his porter with
a half-crown; and so I am well there for a time at
least; I dined at Stratford's in the city, and had
Burgundy and tokay:
Burgundy and tokay: came back a-foot like a
scoundrel; then went to Mr. Addison, and supped
with lord Mountjoy, which made me sick all night.
I forgot that I bought six pounds of chocolate for
Stella, and a little wooden box; and I have a great
piece of Brazil tobacco for Dingley, and a bottle of
palsy-water for Stella; all which, with the two
handkerchiefs that Mr. Sterne has bought, and you
must pay him for, will be put in the box directed to
Mrs. Curry's, and sent by Dr. Hawkshaw, whom 1
have not seen: but Sterne has undertaken it. The
a Dalrymple, lord president of the court of session.
The muscarriage of this box is matter of subsequent specu
lation.
1. 2
148
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
chocolate is a present, madam, for Stella. Do not
read this, you little rogue, with your little eyes;
but give it to Dingley, pray now; and I will write
as plain as the skies: and let Dingley write Stella's
part, and Stella dictate to her, when she apprehends
her eyes, &c.
mond], but the porter answered they were not at
home; the meaning was, the youngest. lady Mary,
is to be married to-morrow to lord Ashburnham,
the best match now in England, twelve thousand
pounds a-year, and abundance of money
Tell me
how my Shower is liked in Ireland: I never knew
any thing pass better here. I spent the evening with
Wortley Montague and Mr. Addison, over a bottle
of Irish wine. Do they know anything in Ireland
of my greatness among the Tories?
the Tories? Everybody re-
proaches me of it here; but I value them not. Have
you heard of the verses about the Rod of Sid Hamet?
Say nothing of them for your life. Hardly anybody
suspects me for them, only they think nobody but
Prior or I could write them. But I doubt they have
not reached you.
I suppose the
There is likewise a ballad, full of
puns, on the Westminster election, that cost me half
an hour: it runs, though it be good for nothing.
But this is likewise a secret to all but MD. If you
have them not, I will bring them over.
17. This letter should have gone this post, if I
had not been taken up with business, and two nights
being late out, so it must stay till Thursday. I dined
to-day with your Mr. Sterne, by invitation, and
drank Irish wine [claret]; but before we parted
there came in the prince of puppies, colonel Edg-
worth; so I went away. This day came out the
Tatler, made up wholly of my Shower, and a pre-
face to it [No. 238]. They say it is the best thing
I ever writ, and I think so too.
bishop of Clogher will show it you. Pray tell
me how you like it. Tooke is going on with my
miscellany. I would give a penny the letter to the
bishop of Killaloe was in it: it would do him
honour. Could not you contrive to say you hear
they are printing my things together, and that you
wish the bookseller had that letter among the rest?
but do not say anything of it as from me.
I forgot
whether it was good or no; but only having heard
it much commended, perhaps it may deserve it.
Well, I have to-morrow to finish this letter in, and
then I will send it next day. I am so vexed that
you should write your 3rd to me, when you had but
my 2nd, and I had written five, which now I hope
you have all and so I tell you, you are saucy, little,
pretty, dear rogues, &c.
:
But
19. I am come home from dining in the city with
Mr. Addison, at a merchant's and just now, at the
coffeehouse, we have notice that the duke of Or-
mond was this day declared lord-lieutenant at
Hampton Court, in council [in room of the earl of
Wharton]. I have not seen Mr. Harley since; but
hope the affair is done about first-fruits. I will
see him, if possible, to-morrow morning: but this
goes to-night. I have sent a box to Mr. Sterne, to
send to you by some friend; I have directed it for
Mr. Curry at his house; so you have warning when
it comes, as I hope it will soon. The handkerchiefs
will be put in some friend's pocket, not to pay cus-
tom. And so here ends my 6th, sent when I had
but three of MD's; now I am beforehand, and will
keep so; and God Almighty bless dearest MD,
21. I got MD's 4th to-day at the coffeehouse.
God Almighty bless poor Stella, and her eyes and
head what shall we do to cure them, poor dear
life?
life? Your disorders are a pull-back for your good
qualities. Would to heaven I were this minute
shaving your poor dear head, either here or there.
Pray do not write, nor read this letter, nor any thing
else, and I will write plainer for Dingley to read
from henceforward, though my pen is apt to ramble
I will not answer
when I think who I am writing to.
your letter until I tell you that I dined this day with
Mr. Harley, who presented me to the earl of Ster-
18. To day I dined, by invitation, with Strat-ling, a Scotch lord; and in the evening came in
lord Peterborow.
ford and others, at a young merchant's in the city,
I stayed till nine before Mr.
with hermitage and tokay, and staid till nine, and
Harley would let me go, or tell me anything of my
affair.
am now come home. And that dog Patrick is
He says the queen has now granted the
abroad, and drinking, and I cannot get my night-
first-fruits and twentieth parts; but he will not yet
gown. I have a mind to turn that puppy away: give me leave to write to the archbishop, because
he has been drunk ten times in three weeks.
the queen designs to signify it to the bishops in Ire-
I had not time to say more; so good night, &c.
land in form, and to take notice that it was done
upon a memorial from me, which Mr. Harley tells
me he does to make it look more respectful to me,
&c. And I am to see him on Tuesday.
I know
not whether I told you that, in my memorial which
was given to the queen, I begged for two thousand
pounds a-year more, though it was not in my com-
mission; but that Mr. Harley says cannot yet be
done, and that he and I must talk of it further:
however, 1 have started it, and it may follow in time.
Pray say nothing of the first-fruits being granted,
unless I give leave at the bottom of this. I believe
never anything was compassed so soon, and purely
done by my personal credit with Mr. Harley, who
is so excessively obliging, that I know not what to
make of it, unless to show the rascals of the other
party that they used a man unworthily who had de-
served better. The memorial given to the queen
from me speaks with great plainness of lord Wharton.
I believe this business is as important to you as the
convocation disputes from Tisdall. I hope in a
month or two all the forms of settling this matter
will be over, and then I shall have nothing to do
here. I will only add one foolish thing more, be-
cause it is just come into my head. When this
thing is made known, tell me impartially whether
they give any of the merit to me or no; for I am
sure I have so much that I will never take it upon
me.-Insolent sluts! because I say Dublin, Ireland,
therefore you must say London, England: that is
Stella's malice.-Well, for that I will not answer
your letter till to-morrow day; and so, and so, I will
go write something else, and it will not be much
for it is late.
&c.
LETTER THE SEVENTH
London, Oct. 19, 1710.
O FAITH, I am undone! this paper is larger than the
other, and yet I am condemned to a sheet; but
since it is MD, I did not value though I were con-
demned to a pair. I told you in a letter to-day
where I had been, and how the day passed; and so,
&c.
20. To-day I went to Mr. Lewis, at the secretary's
office, to know when I might see Mr. Harley; and
by-and-bye comes up Mr. Harley himself, and ap-
points me to dine with him to-morrow. I dined
with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and went to wait on the
two lady Butlers [daughters of the duke of Or-
"The Rev. Mr. Tisdall, au admirer of Stelta.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
149
twenty years younger than he. He gave me a pain
in the great toe, by mentioning the gout. I find
such suspicions frequently, but they go off again. I
had a second letter from Mr. Morgan; for which I
thank you: I wish you were whipped for forgetting
to send him that answer I desired you in one of my
former, "that I could do nothing for him of what
he desired, having no credit at all," &c. Go, be far
enough, you negligeut baggages. I have had also a
letter from Parvisol, with an account how many
livings are set, and that they are fallen, since last
year, sixty pounds. A comfortable piece of news!
He tells me plainly that he finds you have no mind
to part with the horse, because you sent for him at
the same time you sent him my letter; so that I
know not what must be done. It is a sad thing
that Stella must have her own horse, whether Par-
risol will or not! So now to answer your letter
that I had three or four days ago. I am not now
in bed, but am come home by eight; and it being
warm, I write up. I never writ to the bishop of
Killala, which I suppose was the reason he had not
my letter. I have not time, that is the short of
22. I was this
was this morning with Mr. Lewis, the
under-secretary to lord Dartmouth, two hours, talk-
ing politics, and contriving to keep Steele in his
office of stamped paper: he has lost his place of
gazetteer, three hundred pounds a-year, for writing
a Tatler, some months ago, against Mr. Harley,
who gave it him at first, and raised the salary from
sixty to three hundred pounds. This was devilish
ungrateful; and Lewis was telling me the particu-
lars but I had a hint given me that I might save
him in the other employment; and leave was given
me to clear matters with Steele. Well, I dined with
sir Matthew Dudley, and in the evening went to
sit with Mr. Addison, and offer the matter at dis-
tance to him, as the discreeter person; but found
party had so possessed him, that he talked as if he
suspected me, and would not fall in with anything
I said. So I stopped short in my overture, and we
parted very drily; and I shall say nothing to Steele,
and let them do as they will; but if things stand as
they are, he will certainly lose it, unless I save him;
and therefore I will not speak to him, that I may
not report to his disadvantage. Is not this vexa-
tious? and is there so much in the proverb of profit.-As fond as the dean is of my letter, he has not
fered service? When shall I grow wise? I en-
deavoured to act in the most exact points of honour
and conscience, and my nearest friends will not un-
derstand it so. What must a man expect from his
enemies? This would vex me, but it shall not; and
so I bid you good night, &c.
23. I know it is neither wit nor diversion to tell
you every day where I dine, neither do I write it to
fill my letter; but I fancy I shall, some time or
other, have the curiosity of seeing some particulars
how I passed my life when I was absent from MD
this time; and so I tell you now that I dined to-
day at Molesworth's the Florence envoy; then went
to the coffeehouse, where I behaved myself coldly
enough to Mr. Addison, and so came home to
scribble. We dine together to-morrow and next
day by invitation; but I shall alter my behaviour to
him, till he begs my pardon, or else we shall grow
bare acquaintance. I am weary of friends, and
friendships are all monsters but MD's.
24. I forgot to tell you that last night I went to
Mr. Harley's hoping-faith, I am blundering, for it
was this very night at six; and I hoped he would
have told me all things were done and granted; but
he was abroad, and came home ill, and was gone to
bed, much out of order, unless the porter lied. I
dined to day at sir Matthew Dudley's with Mr.
Addison, &c.
25. I was to-day to see the duke of Ormond; and,
coming out, met lord Berkeley of Stratton, who told
me that Mrs. Temple, the widow, died last Saturday,
which, I suppose, is much to the outward grief and
inward joy of the family. I dined to-day with Mr.
Addison and Steele, and a sister of Mr. Addison,
who is married to one Mons. Sartre, a Frenchman,
prebendary of Westminster, who has a delicious
house and garden; yet I thought it was a sort of a
mouastic life in those cloisters, and I liked Laracor
better. Addison's sister is a sort of a wit, very like
him. I am not fond of her, &c.
26. I was to-day to see Mr. Congreve, who is
almost blind with cataracts growing on his eyes;
and his case is, that he must wait two or three
years until the cataracts are riper, and till he is
quite blind, and then he must have them couched;
and besides he is never rid of the gout, yet he looks
young and fresh, and is as cheerful as ever. He is
younger by three years or more than I, and I am
The celebrated dramatic writer, a friend of the dean's.
Congreve was born in the year 1672
b
written to me. I would only know whether dean
Boltona paid him the twenty pounds; and for the
rest, he may kiss And that you may ask him,
because I am in pain about it, that dean Bolton is
such a whipster. It is the most obliging thing in the
world in dean Sterne to be so kind to you. I be-
lieve he knows it will please me, and makes up,
that way, his other usage.
his other usage. No, we have had none
of your snow, but a little one morning; yet I think
it was great snow for an hour or so, but no longer.
I had heard of Will Crowe's death before, but not
the foolish circumstance that hastened his end.
No,
I
I have taken care that captain Pratt shall not suffer
by lord Anglesea's death. I will try some con-
trivance to get a copy of my picture from Jervas.
will make sir Andrew Fountaine buy one as for
himself, and I will pay him again and take it, that
is, provided I have money to spare when I leave
this.-Poor John! is he gone? and Madam Parvisol
has been in town? Humm. Why. Tigbe and I,
when he comes, shall not take any notice of each
other; I would not do it much in this town, though
we had not fallen out.-I was to-day at Mr. Sterne's
lodging; he was not within, and Mr. Leigh is not
come to town, but I will do Dingley's errand when
I see him. What do I know whether china be dear
or no? I once took a fancy of resolving to grow mad
for it, but now it is off: I suppose I told you so in
some former letter. And so you only want some
sallad-dishes, and plates, and, &c. Yes, yes, you
shall. I suppose you have named as much as will
cost five pounds.-Now to Stella's little posteript;
and I am almost crazed that you rex yourself for not
writing. Cannot you dictate to Dingley, and not
strain your little dear eyes? I am sure it is the
grief of my soul to think you are out of order.
Pray be quiet, and if you will write, shut your eyes,
and write just a line, and no more, thus [How do
you do, Mrs. Stella?]: that was written with my eyes
shut. Faith, I think it is better than when they are
open: and then Dingley may stand by, and tell you
when you go too high or too low.-My letters of
business, with packets, if there be any more ocen-
sion for such, must be enclosed to Mr. Addison, at St.
James's Coffeehouse: but I hope to hear, as soon as
see Mr. Harley, that the main difficulties are over,
* This gentleman, as well as Swift, was chaplain to lerd
Berkeley when lord-beutenant; and promoted to the deanery
of Derry, upon Swift declining, with the utmost contemp! and
scorn, to give a large bribe demanded by Bushe, and
Berkeley's secretary.
150
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
I have not time.
and that the rest will be but form.-Take two or
thice nutgalls, take two or three-galls, stop your
receipt in your-I have no need on't. Here is a
clutter! Well, so much for your letter, which I will
now put up in my letter-partition in my cabinet, as
I always do every letter as soon as I answer it.
Method is good in all things. Order governs the
world. The devil is the author of confusion. A
general of an army, a minister of state; to descend
lower-a gardener, a weaver, &c. That may make a
fine observation, if you think it worth finishing; but
Is not this a terrible long piece
for one evening? I dined to-day with Patty Rolt
at my cousin Leach's, with a pox, in the city he is
a printer, and prints the Postman [a Tory news-
paper]; oh oh, and is my cousin, God knows how,
and he married Mrs. Baby Aires of Leicester;
and my cousin Thompson was with us; and
with us; and
my cousin Leach offers to bring me acquainted with
the author of the Postman, and says, "he does not
doubt but the gentleman will be glad of my ac-
quaintance, and that he is a very ingenious man,
and a great scholar, and has been beyond sea.'
But I was modest, and said, may be the gentle-
man was shy, and not fond of new acquaintance;"
and so put it off: and I wish you could hear me re
peating all I have said of this in its proper tone,
just as I am writing it. It is all with the same
cadence with oh hoo, or as when little girls say, I
have got an apple, miss, and I won't give you some.
It is plaguy twelvepenny weather this last week,
and has cost me ten shillings in coach and chair
hire. If the fellow that has your money will pay it,
let me beg you to buy bauk stock with it, which is
fallen near thirty per cent., and pays eight pounds
per cent., and you have the principal when you
please it will certainly soon risc. I would to God
lady Giffard would put in the four hundred pounds
she owes you, and take the five per cent. common
interest, and give you the remainder. I will speak
to your mother about it when I see her. I am re-
solved to buy three hundred pounds of it for myself,
and take up what I have in Ireland; I have a con-
trivance for it, that I hope will do, by making a
friend of mine buy it as for himself, and I will pay
him when I get in my money. I hope Stratford
will do me that kinduess. I will ask him to-mor-
row or next day.
27. Mr. Rowe the poet desired me to dine with
him to-day. I went to his office (he is under-
secretary in Mr. Addison's place that he had in
England), and there was Mr. Prior; and they both
fell commending my Shower beyond anything that
has been written of the kind: there never was such
a Shower since Danaë's, &c. You must tell me how
it is liked among you. I dined with Rowe; Prior
could not come and after dinner we went to a blind
tavern where Congreve, sir Richard Temple, East-
court, and Charles Main, were over a bowl of bad
punch. The knight sent for six flasks of his own
wine for me, and we stayed ill twelve. But now
my head continues pretty well, I have left off my
drinking, and only take a spoonful mixed with
water, for fear of the gout, or some ugly distemper;
and now, because it is late, I will, &c.
28. Garth and Addison and I dined to-day at a
hedge tavern; then I went to Mr. Harley, but he
was denied or not at home; so I fear I shall not
hear my business is done before this goes. Then I
visited lord Pembroke, who is just come to town,
and we were very merry talking of old things, and I
hit him with one pun. Then I went to the ladies
Butler, and the son of a whore of a porter denied
them; so I sent them a threatening message by
another lady for not excepting me always to the
porter. I was weary of the coffeehouse, and Ford
desired me to sit with him at next door, which I did
like a fool chattering till twelve, and now am got
into bed. I am afraid the new ministry is at a terri-
ble loss about money: the Whigs talk so it would
give one the spleen, and I am afraid of meeting Mr.
Harley out of humour. They think he will never
carry through this undertaking. God knows what
will become of it. I should be terribly vexed to see
things come round again; it will ruin the church
I will
and clergy for ever; but I hope for better.
send this on Tuesday, whether I hear any further
news of my affair or not.
29. Mr. Addison and I dined to-day with lord
Mountjoy; which is all the adventures of this day.
I chatted a while to-night in the coffeehouse, this
being a full night; and now am come home to write
some business.
30. I dined to-day at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, and
sent a letter to poor Mrs. Long, who writes to us,
but is God knows where, and will not tell anybody
the place of her residence. I came home early, and
must go
write.
31. The month ends with a fine day; and I have
been walking and visiting Lewis, and concerting
where to see Mr. Harley. I have no news to send
you. Aire, they say, is taken, though the White-
hall letters this morning say quite the contrary; it
I dined with Mr. Addison
is good if it be true.
and Dick Stuart, lord Mountjoy's brother, a treat
of Addison's. They were half fuddled, but not I;
for I mixed water with my wine, and left them
together between nine and ten; and I must send
this by the bellman, which vexes me, but I will put
it off no longer. Pray God it does not mis-
carry. I seldom do so; but I can put off little MD
no longer. Pray give the under note to Mrs. Brent.
I am a pretty gentleman; and you lose all your
I found you out; I
money at cards, sirrah Stella.
did so.
I am staying before I can fold up this letter till
that ugly D is dry in the last line but one. Do not
you see it?
O Lord, I am loth to leave you, faith-
but it must be so till next time. Pox take that D;
I will blot it to dry it.
LETTER THE EIGHTH.
London, Oct. 31, 1710.
So, now I have sent my 7th to your 4th, young
women; and now I will tell you what I would
not in my last, that this morning sitting in my bed
I had a fit of giddiness: the room turned round for
about a minute, and then it went off, leaving me
sickish, but not very: and so I passed the day as I
told you; but I would not end a letter with telling
you this, because it might vex you: and I hope m
God I shall have no more of it. I saw Dr. Cock-
burn to-day, and he promises to send me the pills
that did me good last year, and likewise has pro-
mised me an oil for my ear, that he has been making
for that ailment for somebody else.
November 1. I wish MD a merry new year. You
I had no
know this is the first day of it with us.
giddiness to-day, but I drank brandy, and have
bought a pint for two shillings. I sat up the night
before my giddiness pretty late, and writ very much;
so I will impute it to that. But I never eat fruit,
nor drink ale, but drink better wine than you do, as
I did to-day with Mr. Addison at lord Mountjoy's:
then went at five to see Mr. Harley, who could not
sce me for much company; but sent me his excuse,
and desired I would dine with him on Friday; and
then I expect some answer to this business, which
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
151
must either he soon done or begun again; and then
the duke of Ormond and his people will interfere
for their honour and do nothing. I came home at
six and spent my time in my chamber, without
going to the coffeehouse, which I grow weary of;
and I studied at leisure, writ not above forty lines,
some inventions of my own, and soine hints, and
read not at all, and this because I would take care
of Presto, for fear little MD should be angry.
2. I took my four pills last night, and they lay an
hour in my throat, and so they will do to-night. I
suppose I could swallow four affronts as easily. I
dined with Dr. Cockburn to-day, and came home at
seven; but Mr. Ford has been with me till just now,
and it is near eleven. I have had no giddiness to-
day. Mr. Dopping I have seen, and he tells me
coidly my Shower is liked well enough; there is
your Irish judgment. I writ this post to the bishop
of Clogher. It is now just a fortnight since I heard
from you.
I must have you write once a fortnight,
and then I will allow for wind and weather. How
goes ombre? does Mrs. Walls win constantly as she
used to do; and Mrs. Stoyte? I have not thought of
her this long time; how does she? I find we have
a cargo of Irish coming for London: I am sorry for
it, but I never go near them.
And Tighe is landed;
but Mrs. Wesley, they say, is going home to her
husband like a fool. Well, little monkeys mine, I
must go write; and so good night.
3. I ought to read these letters I write after I have
done; for looking over thus much I found two or
three literal mistakes, which should not be when
the hand is so bad. But I hope it does not puzzle
little Dingley to read, for I think I meud: but me-
thinks when I write plain, I do not know how, but
we are not alone, all the world can see us. A bad
scrawl is so snug, it looks like a PMD.ª We have
scurvy Tatlers of late, so pray do not suspect me.
I have one or two hints I design to send him, and
never any more; he does not deserve it. He is
governed by his wife most abominably, as bad as
I never saw her since I came; nor has he
ever made me an invitation; either he dares not, or
is such a thoughtless Tisdall fellow that he never
minds it. So what care I for his wit? for he is the
worst company in the world till he has a bottle of
wine in his head. I cannot write straighter in bed,
so you must be content. At night in bed.—Stay,
let me see where is this letter to MD among these
papers? oh here. Well, I will go on now; but I
am very busy (smoke the new pen). I dined with
Mr. Harley to-day, and am invited there again on
Sunday. I have now leave to write to the primate
and archbishop of Dublin, that the queen has
granted the first fruits; but they are to take no
notice of it till a letter is sent them by the queen's
order from lord Dartmouth, secretary of state, to
signify it. The bishops are to be made a corpora-
tion to dispose of the revenue, &c., and I shall write
to the archbishop of Dublin to-morrow (I have had
no giddiness to-day). I know not whether they will
have any occasion for me longer to be here; nor can
I judge till I see what letter the queen sends to the
bishops, and what they will do upon it. If despatch
be used, it may be done in six weeks; but I cannot
judge. They sent me to-day a new commission,
signed by the primate and archbishop of Dublin,
and promise me letters to the two archbishops here;
but mine a- for it all. The thing is done, and has
been so these ten days; though I had only leave to
tell it to-day. I had this day likewise a letter from
Alluding to the language in their own familiar conversa-
tion
the bishop of Clogher, who complains of my not
writing; and, what vexes me, says he knows you
have long letters from me every week. Why do you
tell him so it is not right, faith: but I will not be
angry with MD at a distance. I writ to him last
post, before I had his, and will write again soon,
since I see he expects it, and that lord and lady
Mountjoy put him off upon me to give themselves
ease. Lastly, I had this day a letter from a certain
naughty rogue called MD, and it was No. 5, which
I shall not answer to-night I thank you. No, faith,
I have other fish to fry; but to-morrow or next day
will be time enough. I have put MD's commissions
in a memorandum paper. I think I have done all
before, and remember nothing but this to-day about
glasses, and spectacles, and spectacle-cases. I have
no commission from Stella, but the chocolate and
handkerchiefs; and those are bought, and I expect
they will be soon sent. I have been with, and sent
to, Mr. Sterne, two or three times to know, but he
was not within. Odds, my life, what am I doing?
must go write, and do business.
4. I dined to-day at Kensington, with Addison,
Steele, &c.; came home, and writ a short letter to the
archbishop of Dublin, to let him know the queen
has granted the thing, &c. I writ in the coffee-
house, for I stayed at Kensington till nine, and am
plaguy weary; for colonel Proud was very ill com-
pany, and I will never be of a party with him again:
and I drank punch, and that and ill company has
made me hot.
5. I was with Mr. Harley from dinner to seven
this night, and went to the coffeehouse, where
Dr. Davenant [son of the celebrated sir William}
would fain have had me gone and drink a bottle of
wine at his house hard by, with Dr. Chamberlain ;
but the puppy used so many words, that I was afraid
of his company; and, though we promised to come
at eight, I sent a messenger to him, that Chamber-
lain was going to a patient, and therefore we would
put it off till another time: so he, and the comp
troller, and I, were prevailed on by sir Matthew
Dudley to go to his house, where I stayed till twelve,
and left them. Davenant has been teasing me to
look over some of his writings that he is going to
publish, but the rogue is so fond of his own produc-
tions, that I hear he will not part with a syllable;
and he has lately put out a foolish pamphlet, called,
"The Third Part of Tom Double." to make his
court to the Tories, whom he had left.
6. I was to-day gambling in the city to see Patty
Rolt, who is going to Kingston, where she lodges;
but, to say the truth, I had a mind for a walk to ex-
ercise myself, and happened to be disengaged; for
dinners are ten times more plentiful with me here
than ever, or than in Dublin. I will not answer
your letter yet, because I am busy. I hope to send
this before I have another from MD: it would
be a sad thing to answer two letters together, as
MD does from Presto. But when the two sides are
full, away the letter shall go, that is certain, like it
or not like it; and that will be about three days
hence, for the answering night will be a long one.
7. I dined to-day at sir Richard Temple's with
Congreve, Vanbrugh, lieutenant-general Farring-
ton, &c. Vanbrugh, I believe I told you, had a long
quarrel with me about those verses on his house;
but we were very civil and cold. Lady Marlborough
used to tease him with them, which had made him
angry, though he be a good-natured fellow. It was a
thanksgiving day, and I was at court, where the
queen passed by us with all Tories about her; not
one Whig Buckinghain, Rochester, Leeds, Shrews-
152
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
bury, Berkeley of Stratton, lord-keeper Harcourt,
Mr. Harley, lord Pembroke, &c., and I have seen
her without one Tory. The queen made me a curtsy,
and said in a sort of familiar way to Presto, “How
docs MD?''a I considered she was a queen, and
so excused her. I do not miss the Whigs at court,
but have as many acquaintance there as formerly.
8. Here is ado and a clutter! I must now answer
MD's 5th; but first you must know I died at the
Portugal envoy's to-day with Addison, Vanbrugh,
admiral Wager, sir Richard Temple, Methuen, &c.
I was weary of their company, and stole away at
five, and came home like a good boy, and studied
till ten, and had a fire; O ho! and now am in bed.
I have no fireplace in my bedchamber; but it is
very warm weather when one is in bed. Your fine
:
cap, madam Dingley, is too little and too hot: I
will have that fur taken off; I wish it were far
enough; and my old velvet cap is good for nothing.
Is it velvet under the fur? I was feeling, but cannot
find if it be, it will do without it, else I will face
it; but then I must buy new velvet: but may be I
may beg a piece. What shall I do? well, row to
rogue MD's letter. God be thanked for Stella's
eyes mending; and God send it holds; but faith
you write too much at a time; better write less, or
write it at ten times. Yes, faith, a long letter in a
morning from a dear friend is a dear thing. I smoke
a compliment, little mischievous girls, I do so. But
who are those wiggs that think I am turned Tory?
Do you mean Whigs? Which wiggs, and what do
you mean? I know nothing of Raymond, and only
had one letter from him a little after I came here.
(Pray remember Morgan.) Raymond is indeed like
to have much influence over me in London, and to
share much of my conversation. I shall no doubt
introduce him to Harley, and lord-keeper, and the
secretary of state. The Tatler upon Ithuriel's spear
is not mine, madam. What a puzzle there is bc-
tween you and your judgment? In general you
may be sometimes sure of things, as that about style,
because it is what I have frequently spoken of; but
guessing is mine a-, and I defy mankind if I please.
Why, I writ a pamphlet when I was last in Lon-
don, that you and a thousand have seen, and
never guessed it to be mine. Could you have
guessed the Shower in Town to be mine? How
chance you did not see that before your last letter
went? But I suppose you in Ireland did not think
it worth mentioning. Nor am I suspected for the
lampoon: only Harley said he smoked me, (have I
told you so before?) and some others knew it. It
is called the Rod of Sid Hamet. And I have writ-
en several other things that I here commended, and
nobody suspects me for them; nor you shall not
know till I see you again. What do you mean,
"That boards near me, that I dine with now and
then?" I know no such person: I do not dine with
boarders. What the pox! You know whom 1
have dined with every day since I left you better
than I do. What do you mean, sirrah? Slids, my
ailment has been over these two months almost.
Impudence, if you vex me, I will give ten shillings
a-week for my lodging; for I am almost stunk out
of this with the sink, and it helps me to verses in
Shower. Well, madam Dingley, what say you
my
to the world to come? What ballad? Why go
Why go
look, it was not good for much: have patience till I
come back; ; patience is a gay thing as, &c. I hear
nothing of lord Mountjoy's coming for Ireland.
When is Stella's birthday? in March? Lord bless
This was, in Swift's language, a "pure bite." He was not
introduced at cont.
How
It was you
me, my turn at Christ Church; it is so natural to
hear you write about that, I believe you have done
it a hundred times; it is as fresh in my mind, the
verger coming to you; and why to you? would he
have you preach for me! O, pox on your spelling
of Latin. Jonsonibus atque, that is the way.
did the dean get that name by the end?
betrayed me not I faith; I will not break his head.
Your mother is still in the country, I suppose, for
she promised to see me when she came to town. I
writ to her four days ago, to desire her to break it
to lady Giffard to put some money for you in the
Bank, which was then fallen thirty per cent. Would
to God mine had been here, I should have gained
one hundred pounds, and got as good interest as in
Ireland, and much securer. I would fain have bor-
rowed three hundred pounds, but money is so scarce.
here, there is no borrowing by this fall of stocks.
It is rising now, and I knew it would: it fell from
one hundred and twenty-nine to ninety-six. I have
not heard since from your mother. Do you think I
would be so unkind not to see her, that you desire
me in a style so melancholy? Mrs. Rayinond you
say is with child: I am sorry for it, and so is, I be-
lieve, her husband. Mr. Harley speaks all the kind
things to me in the world; and I believe would
serve me, if I were to stay here; but I reckon in
time the duke of Ormond inay give me some addi-
tion to Laracor. Why should the Whigs think
came to England to leave them? Sure my journey
was no secret? I protest sincerely I did all I could
to hinder it, as the dean can tell you, although
now I do not repent it.
But who the devil cares
what they think? Am I uuder
Am I under obligations in the
least to any of them all? Rot them, for ungrateful
dogs; I will make them repent their usage before I
leave this place. They say here the same thing of
my leaving the Whigs; but they own they cannot
blane me, considering the treatment I have had. I
will take care of your spectacles, as I told you be-
fore, and of the bishop of Killala's; but I will not
write to him, I have not time. What do you mean
by my 4th, madam Dinglibus? Does not Stella say
you have had my 5th, Goody Blunder? you fiighted
me till I looked back. Well, this is enough for one
night. Pray give my humble service to Mrs. Stoyte
and her sister-Kate is it, or Sarah?
I have forgot
her name, faith. I think I will even (and to Mrs.
Walls and the archdeacon) send this to morrow:
no faith, that will be in ten days from the last.
will keep it till Saturday, though I write no more.
But what if a letter from MD should come in the
mean time? why then I would only say, Madam,
I have received your 6th letter; your most humble
servant to command, Presto;" and so conclude.
Well, now I will write and think a little, and so to
bed, and dream of MD.
I
9. I have my mouth full of water, and was going
to spit it out, because I reasoned with myself, how
could I write when my mouth was full. Have not
you done things like that, reasoned wrong at first
thinking? Well, I was to see Mr. Lewis this morn-
ing, and am to dine a few days hence, as he tells me,
with Mr. secretary St. John, and I must contrive to
see Harley soon again, to hasten this business from
the queen.
I dined to-day at lord Montrath's with
lord Mountjoy, &c., but the wine was not good, so I
came away, stayed at the coffeehouse till seven, then
came home to my fire, the maidenhead of my second
half-bushel, and am now in bed at eleven, as usual.
It is mighty warm; yet I fear I shall catch cold this
wet weather if I sit an evening in my room after
coming from warm places: and I must make much
JOURNAL TO STELLA
153
of myself, because MD is not here to take care of
Presto; and I am full of business, writing, &c., and
do not care for the coffeehouse; and so this serves
for altogether, not to tell it you over and over, as
silly people do; but Presto is a wiser man, faith,
than so, let me tell you, gentlewomen. See, I am got
to the third side; but, iaith, I will not do that often :
but I must say something early to-day, till the
letter is done, and on Saturday it shall go; so I
must save something till to-morrow, till to-morrow
and next day.
in the world. Prior came in after dinner; and upon
an occasion, he (the secretary) said, the best thing
he ever read is not yours, but Dr. Swift's on Van-
brugh; which I do not reckon so very good neither
But Prior was damped until I stuffed him with two
or three compliments. I am thinking what a vene,
ration we used to have for sir William Temple, be-
cause he might have been secretary of state at fifty;
and here is a young fellow, hardly thirty, in that em-
ployment. His father is a man of pleasure, that
walks the Mall, and frequents St. James's coffee-
house, and the chocolate-houses," and the young son
is principal secretary of state. Is there not some-
thing very odd in that? He told me, among other
things, that Mr. Harley complained he could keep
nothing from me, I had the way so much of getting
into him. I knew that was a refinement; and so I
told him, and it was so indeed it is hard to see
these great men use me like one who was their bet-
ters, and the puppies with you in Ireland hardly
regarding me: but there are some reasons for all
this, which I will tell you when we meet. At com-
ing home I saw a letter from your mother, in answer
to one I sent her two days ago. It seems she is in
town; but cannot come out in a morning, just as
you said, and God knows when I shall be at leisure
in an afternoon; for if I should send her a penny-
post letter, and afterward not be able to meet her,
it would vex me; and, besides, the days are short,
and why she cannot come early in a morning be-
fore she is wanted I cannot imagine. I will desire
her to let lady Giffard know that she hears I am
in town, and that she would go to see me to in-
quire after you. I wonder she will confine herself
so much to that old beast's humour. You know I
cannot in honour see lady Giffard, and conse-
quently not go into her house. This I think is
enough for the first time.
10. O Lord, I would this letter was with you with
all my heart: if it should miscarry, what a deal
would be lost! I forgot to leave a gap in the last
line but one for the seal, like a puppy; but I should
have allowed for "night, good night:" but when I
am taking leave I cannot leave a bit, faith; but I
fancy the seal will not come there. I dined to-day
at lady Lucy's, where they ran down my Shower:
and said Sid Hamet was the silliest poem they ever
read, and told Prior so, whom they thought to be
the author of it. Do not you wonder I never dined
there before? tooing
But I am too busy, and they live too
far off; and besides, I do not like women so much
as I did. [MD, you must know, are not women.]
I supped to-night at Addison's with Garth, Steele,
and Mr. Dopping; and am come home late. Lewis
has sent to me to desire I will dine with some com-
pany I shall like. I suppose it is Mr. secretary St.
John's appointment. I had a letter just now from
Raymond, who is at Bristol, and says he will be at
London in a fortnight, and leave his wife behind
him; and desires any lodging in the house where I
am: but that must not be. I shall not know what
to do with him in town: to be sure I will not pre-
sent him to any acquaintance of mine, and he will
live a delicate life, a parson and a perfect stranger.
Panast twelvyve o'clock, and so good night, &c. O!
but I forgot, Jemmy Leigh is come to town; says
he has brought Dingley's things, and will send them
by the first convenience. My parcel, I hear, is not
sent yet. He thinks of going for Ireland in a month,
&c. I cannot write to-morrow, because-what, be-
cause of the archbishop; because I will seal my let-
ter early; because I am engaged from noon till
night; because of many kind of things; and yet I
will write one or two words to-morrow morning, to
keep up my journal constant, and at night I will
begin the ninth.
quire after
I shall not know what
11. Morning by candle-light. You must know
that I am in my night-gown every morning betwixt
six and seven, and Patrick is forced to ply me fifty
times before I can get on my night- gown; and so
now I will take my leave of my own dear MD for
this letter, and begin my next when I come home
at night. God Almighty bless and protect dearest
MD. Farewell, &c.
This letter's as long as a sermon, faith.
LETTER THE NINTH.
London, Nov. 11, 1710.
I DINED to-day, by invitation, with the secretary of
state, Mr. St. John. Mr. Harley came into us be-
fore dinner, and made me his excuses for not dining
with us, because he was to receive people who came
to propose advancing money to the government :
there dined with us only Mr. Lewis, and Dr. Freind
[a celebrated physician and philosopher], that writ
jord Peterborow's actions in Spain. I stayed with
them till just now, between ten and eleven, and was
forced again to give my 8th to the bellman, which I
did with my own hands, rather than keep it till next
post. The secretary used me with all the kindness
12. And how could you write with such thin
paper? (I forgot to say this in my former.) Cannot
you get thicker? Why, that is a common caution
that writing-masters give their scholars; you must
have heard it a hundred times. It is this-
If paper be thiu, ink will slip in;
But if it be thick, you may write with a stick.
I had a letter to-day from poor Mrs. Long, giving
me an account of her present life, obscure in a re-
mote country town, and how easy she is under it.
Poor creature! it is just such an alteration in life as
if Presto should be banished from MD, and con-
demned to converse with Mrs. Raymond. I dined
to-day with Ford, sir Richard Levinge, &c., at a
place where they board hard by. I was lazy, and
not very well sitting so long with company jester-
day. I have been very busy writing this evening at
home, and had a fire: I am spending my second half-
bushel of coals; and now am in bed, and it is late.
13. I dined to-day in the city, and then went to
christen Will Frankland's child; and lady Falcon-
bridge was one of the godmothers: this is a daugh-
ter of Oliver Cromwell, and extremely like him by
his pictures that I have seen. I stayed till almost
eleven, and am now come home and gone to bed.
My business in the city was to thank Stratford for
a kindness he has done me, which now I will tell
you. I found bank stock was fallen thirty-four in
the hundred, and was mighty desirous to buy it; but
I was a little too late for the cheapest time, being
hindered by business here; for I was so wise to
guess to a day when it would fall. My project was
this: I had three hundred pounds in Ireland; and
so I writ Mr. Stratford in the city, to desire he
would buy me three hundred pounds in bank stock,
a Sir Henry St. John, father of the statesinan
154
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
|
and that he should keep the papers, and that I
would be bound to pay him for them; and if it
should rise or fall I would take my chance, and pay
him interest in the mean time. I showed my letter
to one or two people, who understand those things,
and they said " money was so hard to be got here
that no man would do it for me." However, Strat-
ford, who is the most generous man alive, has done
it: but it cost one hundred pounds and a half—that
is ten shillings, so that three hundred pounds cost
me three hundred pounds and thirty shillings. This
was done about a week ago, and I can have five
pounds for my bargain already. Before it fell it was
one hundred and thirty pounds, and we are sure it
will be the same again. I told you I writ to your
mother to desire that lady Giffard would do the
same with what she owes you; but she tells your
mother she has no money. I would to God all you
had in the world was there. Whenever you lend
money take this rule, to have two people bound, who
have both visible fortunes; for they will hardly die
together; and, when one dies, you fall upon the
other, and make him add another security. And if
Rathburn (now I have his name) pays you in your |
money, let me know, and I will direct Parvisol ac-
cordingly however, he shall wait on you and know.
So, ladies, enough of business for one night.
Paaaaast twelvvve o'clock. I must only add, that,
after a long fit of rainy weather, it has been fair two
or three days, and is this day grown cold and frosty;
so that you must give poor little Presto leave to have
a fire in his chamber morning and evering too, and
he will do as much for you.
14. What, has your chancellor lost his senses, like
Will Crowe? I forgot to tell Dingley that I was
yesterday at Ludgate bespeaking the spectacles at
the great shop there, and shall have them in a day or
two. This has been an insipid day. I dined with
Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and came gravely home, after
just visiting the coffeehouse. Sir Richard Cox, they
say, is sure of going over lord chancellor, who is as
errant a puppy as ever ate bread; but the duke of
Ormond has a natural affection to puppies, which is
a thousand pities, being none himself. I have been
amusing myself at home till now, and in bed bid.
you good night.
15. I have been visiting this morning, but nobody
was at home, secretary St. John, sir Thomas Han-
mer, sir Chancellor Coxcomb, &c. I attended the
duke of Ormond with about fifty other Irish gentle-
men at Skinner's-hall, where the Londonderry So-
ciety laid out three hundred pounds to treat us and
his grace with a dinner.
with a dinner. Three great tables with the
dessert laid in mighty figure. Sir Richard Levinged
Sir Richard Levinge
and I got discreetly to the head of the second table,
to avoid the crowd at the first: but it was so cold,
and so confounded a noise with the trumpets and
hautboys, that I grew weary, and stole away before
the second course came on; so I can give you no
account of it, which is a thousand pities. I called
at Ludgate for Dingley's glasses, and shall have
them in a day or two; and I doubt it will cost me
thirty shillings for a microscope, but not without
Stella's permission; for I remember she is a virtuoso.
Shall I buy it or no? It is not the great bulky ones,
nor the common little ones, to impale a louse (saving
your presence) upon a needle's point; but of a more
exact sort, and clearer to the sight, with all its equi-
page in a little trunk that you may carry in your
pocket. Tell me, sirrah, shall I buy it or not for
you? I came home straight, &c.
A
Speaker of the house of commons, and lord chief Justice
of the queen's bench in Ireland.
|
16. I dined to-day in the city with Mr. Manley
who invited Mr. Addison and ine, and some othe
friends, to his lodging, and entertained us very hand-
somely. I returned with Mr. Addison, and loitered
till nine in the coffeehouse, where I am hardly
known by going so seldom. I am here soliciting
for Trounce; you know him: he was gunner in the
former yacht, and would fain be so in the present
one if you remember him, a good lusty fresh-
coloured fellow. Shall I stay till I get another letter
from MD before I close up this? Mr. Addison and
I meet a little seldomer than formerly, although we
are still at bottom as good friends as ever; but differ
a little about party.
17. To-day I went to Lewis at the secretary's
office, where I saw and spoke to Mr. Harley, who
promised in a few days to finish the rest of my
business. I reproached him for putting me on the
necessity of reminding him of it, and rallied him,
&c., which he took very well. I dined to-day with
one Mr. Gore, elder brother to a young merchant of
my acquaintance, and Stratford, and my other friend
merchants dined with us, where I stayed late, drink-
ing claret and Burgundy, and am just got to bed, and
will say no more, but that it now begins to be time
to have a letter from my own little MD; for the
last I had above a fortnight ago, and the date was
old too.
18. To-day I dined with Lewis and Prior at an
eating-house, but with Lewis's wine. Lewis went
away, and Prior and I sat on, where we complimented
one another for an hour or two upon our mutual wit
and poetry. Coming home at seven, a gentleman
unknown stopped me in the Pall-mall, and asked
my advice; said he had been to see the queen (who
was just come to town), and the people in waiting
would not let him see her; that he had two hundred
thousand men ready to serve her in the war; that
he knew the queen perfectly well, and had an apart-
ment at court, and if she heard he was there she
would send for him immediately; that she owed
him two hundred thousand pounds, &c.: and he
desired my opinion whether he should go try again.
whether he could see her; or because, perhaps, she
was weary after her journey, whether he had not
better stay till to-morrow. I had a mind to get rid
of my companion, and begged him of all love to
wait on her immediately; for that, to my knowledge,
the queen would admit him; that this was an affair
of great
of great importance, and required despatch: and I
instructed him to let me know the success of his
business, and come to the Smyrna Coffeehouse,
where I would wait for him till midnight; and so
ended this adventure. I would fain have given the
man half a crown; but was afraid to offer it him,
lest he should be offended; for, besides his money,
he said he had a thousand pounds a year. I came
home not early, and so, madams both, good night,
&c
19. I dined to-day with poor lord Mountjoy, who
is ill of the gout; and this evening I christened our
coffeeman Elliot's child;a where the rogue had a most
noble supper, and Steele and I sat among some scurvy
company over a bowl of punch, so that I am come
home late, young women,and cannot stay to write to
little rogues.
20. I loitered at home, and dined with sir Andrew
Fountaine at his lodging, and then came home; a
silly day.
21. I was visiting all this morning, and then went
to the secretary's office, and found Mr. Harley, with
whom I dined, and secretary St. John, &c.; and
Elliot was keeper of the St. James's Coffechonse
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
155
is come to town: it is late, and so I bid you good
night.
Harley promised in a very few days to finish what | ramblingest lying rogue on earth. Dr. Raymond
remains of my business. Prior was of the company,
and we all dine at the secretary's to-morrow. I saw
Stella's mother this morning: she came early, and
we talked an hour. I wish you would propose to
lady Giffard to take the three hundred pounds out
of her hands, and give her common interest for life,
and security that you will pay her: the bishop of
Clogher, or any friend, would be security for you, if
you gave them counter-security; and it may be
argued that it will pass better to be in your hands
than hers, in case of mortality, &c. Your mother
says, if you write she will second it; and you may
write to your mother, and then it will come from her.
She tells me lady Giffard has a mind to see me, by
her discourse; but I told her what to say with a ven-
geance. She told lady Giffard she was going to see
me: she looks extremely well. I am writing in my
bed like a tiger, and so good night, &c.
22. I dined with secretary St. John; and lord
Dartmouth, who is the other secretary, dined with
us, and lord Orrery, and Prior, &c. Harley called,
but could not dine with us, and would have had me
away while I was at dinner; but I did not like the
company he was to have. We stayed till eight,
and I called at the coffeehouse, and looked where
the letters lie; but no letter directed for Mr. Presto:
at last I saw a letter to Mr. Addison, and it looked
like a rogue's hand, so I made the fellow give it
me, and opened it before him, and saw three letters
all for myself: so, truly, I put them in my pocket,
and came home to my lodging. Well, and so you
shall hear well, and so I found one of them in
Dingley's hand, and the other in Stella's, and the
third in Domville's. Well, so you shall hear: so,
said I to myself, What now, two letters from MD
together? But I thought there was something in the
wind; so I opened one, ard I opened the other;
and so you shall hear, one was from Walls.
:
Well,
but the other was from my own dear MD; yes it
was. O faith, have you received my 7th, young
women, already? then I must send this to-morrow,
else there will be old doings at our house, faith.
Well, I will not answer your letter in this: no faith,
catch me at that, and I never saw the like. Well,
but as to Walls, tell him (with service to him and
wife, &c.) that I have no imagination of Mr. Pratt's
losing his place: and while Pratt continues, Clements
is in no danger; and I have already engaged lord
Hyde he speaks of for Pratt and twenty others;
but if such a thing should happen, I will do what I
can. I have above ten businesses of other people's
now on my hands, and, I believe, shall miscarry in
half. It is your 6th I now have received. I writ
last post to the bishop of Clogher again. Shall I
send this to-morrow? Well, I will, to oblige MD.
Which would you rather, a short letter every week,
or a long one every fortnight? A long one; well, it
shall be done, and so good night. Well, but is this
a long one? No, I warrant you: too long for naughty
girls.
23. I only ask, have you got both the ten pounds,
or only the first; I hope you mean both. Pray be
good housewives, and I beg you to walk when you
can for health. Have you the horse in town? and
do you ever ride him? how often? Confess. Ahhh,
sirrah, have I caught you? Can you contrive to let
Mrs. Fenton [Swift's sister] know that the request
she has made me in her letter I will use what credit
I have to bring about, although I hear it is very dif-
ficult, and I doubt I shall not succeed. Cox is not
to be your chancellor: all joined against him. I
have been supping with lord Peterborow, at his
nouse, with Prior, Lewis, and Dr. Freind. It is the
|
24. I tell you pretty management: Ned South-
well told me the other day he had a letter from the
bishops of Ireland, with an address to the duke of
Ormond, to intercede with the queen to take off the
first-fruits. I dined with him to-day, and saw it,
with another letter to him from the bishop of Kil-
dare to call upon me for the papers, &c., and I had
last post one from the archbishop of Dublin, telling
me the reason of this proceeding; that upon hearing
the duke of Ormond was declared lord-lieutenant
they met, and the bishops were for this project,
and talked coldly of my being solicitor, as one that
was favoured by the other party, &c., but desired that
I would still solicit. Now the wisdom of this is ad-
mirable; for I had given the archbishop an account
of my reception from Mr. Harley, and how he had
spoken to the queen, and promised it should be
done; but Mr. Harley ordered me to tell no person
alive. Some time after he gave me leave to let the
primate and archbishop know that the queen had
remitted the first-fruits, and that in a short time
they should have an account of it in form from lord
Dartmouth, secretary of state. So, while their letter
was on the road to the duke of Ormond and South-
well, mine was going to them with an account of
the thing being done. I writ a very warm answer
to the archbishop immediately, and showed my re-
sentment, as I ought, against the bishops, only in
good manners excepting himself. I wonder what
they will say when they hear the thing is done. I
was yesterday forced to tell Southwell so, that the
queen had done it, &c., for he said, my lord duke
would think of it some months hence when he was
going for Ireland; and he had it three years in doing
formerly, without any success. I give you free leave
to say, on occasion, that it is done, and that Mr.
Harley prevailed on the queen to do it, &c., as you
please. As I hope to live, I despise the credit of
it, out of an excess of pride, and desire you will not
give me the least merit when you talk of it; but I
would vex the bishops, and have it spread that Mr.
Harley had done it: pray do so. Your mother sent
me last night a parcel of wax candles, and a band-
box full of small plum-cakes. I thought it had been
something for you; and, without opening them,
sent answer by the maid that brought them, that I
would take care to send the things, &c., but I will
write her thanks. Is this a long letter, sirrahs? Now,
are you satisfied? I have had no fit since the first:
I drink brandy every morning, and take pills every
night. Never fear; I an't vexed at this puppy busi-
ness of the bishops, although I was a little at first.
I will tell you my reward: Mr. Harley will think
he has done me a favour; the duke of OrLiond, per-
haps, that I have put a neglect on him; and the
bishops in Ireland that I have done nothing at all.
So goes the world. But I have got above all this.
and perhaps I have better reason for it than they
know and so you shall hear no more of first-fruits,
dukes, Harleys, archbishops, and Southwells.
:
have slipped off Raymond upon some of his
countrymen to show him the town, &c.. and I lend
him Patrick. He desires to sit with me in the
evenings; upon which I have given Patrick positive
orders that I am not within at evenings.
LETTER THE TENTH.
London, Nov. 25, 1710.
I WILL tell you something that is plaguy silly; I
had forgot to say on the 23rd in my last where I
158
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
dined; and because I had done it constantly, I
thought it was a great omission, and was going to
interline it, but at last the silliness of it made me
cry, pshah, and I let it alone. I was to-day to see the
parliament meet, but only saw a great crowd; and
Ford and I went to see the tombs at Westminster,
and sauntered so long I was forced to go to an eat-
ing-house for my dinner. Bromley is chosen speaker,
nemine contradicente: do you understand those two
words? and Pompey, colonel Hill's black, designs
to stand speaker for the footmen. I am engaged to
I am engaged to
use my interest for him, and have spoken to Patrick
to get him some votes. We are now all impatient
for the queen's speech, what she will say about re-
moving the ministry, &c. I have got a cold, and I
do not know how; but got it 1 have, and am hoarse:
I do not know whether it will grow better or worse.
What is that to you? I will not answer your letter
to-night. I will keep you a little longer in suspense :
I cannot send it. Your mother's cakes are very
good, and one of them serves me for breakfast, and
so I will go sleep like a good boy.
26. I have got a cruel cold, and stayed within all
this day in my nightgown, and dined on sixpenny-
worth of victuals, and read and writ, and was denied
to everybody. Dr. Raymond called often, and I
was denied; and at last, when I was weary, I let
him come up, and asked him without consequence,
"How Patrick denied me, and whether he had the
art of it?" So by this means he shall be used to
have me denied to him, otherwise he would be a
plaguy trouble and hindrance to me: he has sat with
me two hours, and drank a pint of ale cost me five-
pence, and smoked his pipe, and it is now past
eleven that he is just gone. Well, my 8th is with you
now, young women, and your 7th to me is somewhere
in a postboy's bag: and so go to your gang of deans,
and Stoytes, and Walls, and lose your money; go,
sauccboxes, and so good night and be happy, dear
rogues. O, but your box was sent to Dr. Hawkshaw
by Sterne, and you will have it with Hawkshaw,
and spectacles, &c., &c.
27. To-day Mr. Harley met me in the court of
requests, and whispered me to dine with him. At
dinner I told him what those bishops had done, and
the difficulty I was under. He bid me never trouble
myself; he would tell the duke of Ormond the
business was done, and that he need not concern
himself about it. So now I am easy, and they may
hang themselves for a parcel of insolent ungrateful
rascals. I suppose I told you in my last how they
sent an address to the duke of Ormond, and a letter
to Southwell, to call on me for the papers after the
thing was over; but they had not received my letter,
though the archbishop might, by what I writ to
hm, have expected it would be done. Well, there
is an end of that, and in a little time the queen will
send them notice, &c. And so the methods will be
settled, and then I shall think of returning, although
the baseness of those bishops makes me love Ireland
less than I did.
28. Lord Halifax sent to invite me to dinner,
where I stayed till six, and crossed him in all his
Whig talk, and made him often come over to me.
I know he makes court to the new men, although
he affects to talk like a Whig. I had a letter to-day
from the bishop of Clogher, but I writ to him lately
that I would obey his commands to the duke of
Ormond. He says I bid him read the London
Shaver, and that you both swore it was Shaver, and
not Shower. You all lie, and you are puppies, and
cannot read Presto's hand. The bishop is out en-
tirely in his conjectures of my share in the Tatlers.
|
importance [political controversies, else I have little
to do to be acquainted with a new ministry, who
consider me a little more than Irish bishops do.
29. Now for your saucy good dear letter; let me
see, what does it say? come then I dined to-day
with Ford, and went home early; he debauched me
to his chamber again with a bottle of wine till
twelve; so good night. I cannot write an auswer
now, you rogues.
30. To day I have been visiting, which I had long
neglected; and I dined with Mrs. Barton alone;
and sauntered at the coffeehouse till past eight, and
have been busy till eleven, and now I will answer
your letter, saucebox. Well, let me see now again.
My wax candle's almost out, but however I will
begin. Well then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto;
what can you say to MD's letter? Make haste,
have done with your preambles. Why, I say, I
am glad you are so often abroad; your mother
thinks it is want of exercise hurts you, and so do I.
(She called here to-night, but I was not within: that
is by the bye.) Sure you do not deceive me, Stella,
when you say you are in better health than you were
these three weeks; for Dr. Raymond told me yes-
terday that Smyth, of the Blind Quay, had been
telling Mr. Leigh that he left you extremely ill;
and, in short, spoke so that he almost put poor Leigh
into tears, and would have made me run distracted;
though your letter is dated the 11th instant, and Í
saw Smyth in the city above a fortnight ago, as I
passed by in a coach. Pray, pray, do not write, Stella,
until you are mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty
well in your eyes, and are sure it won't do you the
least hurt. Or come, I will tell you what; you,
mistress Stella, shall write your share at five or six
sittings, one sitting a day; and then comes Dingley
all together, and then Stella a little crumb toward
the end, to let us see she remembers Presto ; and
then conclude with something handsome and gen-
teel, as "your most humble cumdumble," or, &c.
O Lord! does Patrick write of my not coming till
spring? Insolent man! he know my secrets? No;
as my lord mayor said, "No; if I thought my shirt
knew," &c. Faith, I will come as soon as it is in
any way proper for me to come; but, to say the
truth, I am at present a little involved with the pre-
sent ministry in some certain things (which I tell
you as a secret); as soon as ever I can clear my
hands I will stay no longer; for I hope the first-
fruit-business will be soon over in all its forms.
But, to say the truth, the present ministry have a
difficult task, and want me, &c. Perhaps they may
be just as grateful as others; but, according to the
best judgment I have, they are pursuing the true in-
terest of the public; and therefore I am glad to
contribute what is in my power. For God's sake,
not a word of this to any alive. Your chancellor?
why, madam, I can tell you he has been dead this
fortnight. Faith, I could hardly forbear our little
language about a nasty dead chancellor, as you may
see by the blot. Ploughing? A pox plough them;
they will plough me to nothing.
But have you
got your money, both the ten pounds? How durst
he pay the second so soon? Pray be good house-
wives. Ay, well, and Joe; why, I had a letter
lately from Joe, desiring I would take some care of
their poor town [Trim], who, he says, will lose their
liberties. To which 1´desired Dr. Raymond would
return answer, "That the town had behaved them-
selves so ill to me, so little regarded the advice I
gave them, and disagreed so much among them.
The words "this fortnight" had been written in wha
he calls their little language, then scratched out, and writte
I have other things to mind, and of much greater ¦ plain.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
157
selves, that I was resolved never to have more to do
with them; but that whatsoever personal kindness I
could do to Joe should be done. Pray, when you
happen to see Joe tell him this, lest Raymond should
have blundered or forgotten. Poor Mrs. Wesley-
why these poligyes [apologies] for being abroad?
Why should you be at home at all until Stella is
quite well? So, here is mistress Stella again with
her two eggs, &c. My Shower admired with you;
why, the bishop of Clogher says he has seen some-
thing of mine of the same sort better than the
Shower. I suppose he means the Morning; but it
is not half so good. I want your judgment of things,
and not your country's. How does MD like it?
How does MD like it?
and do they taste it all? &c. I am glad dean Bolton
has paid the twenty pounds. Why should not I
chide the bishop of Clogher for writing to the arch-
bishop of Cashel, without sending the letter first to
me? It does not signify a --; for he has no
credit at court. Stuff-they are all puppies. I will
break your head in good earnest, young woman, for
your nasty jest about Mrs. Barton. Unlucky slut-
tikin, what a word is there? Faith, I was thinking
yesterday, when I was with her, whether she could
break them or no, and it quite spoiled my imagin-
ation. Mrs. Wall, does Stella win as she pretends?
No, indeed, doctor; she loses always, and will play
she loses always, and will play
so venturesomely, how can she win? See here now;
are not you an impudent lying slut? Do open
Domville's letter; what does it signify, if you have
a mind? Yes, faith, you write smartly with your
eyes shut; all was well but the w. See how I can
do it. “Madam Stella, your humble servant." O,
but one may look whether one goes crooked or no,
and so write on. I will tell you what you may do;
you may write with your eyes half shut, just as
when one is going to sleep; I have done so for two
or three lines now; it is but just seeing enough to
go straight. Now, madam Dingley, I think Ï bid
you tell Mr. Walls that in case there be occasion I
will serve his friend as far as I can; but I hope
there will be none. Yet I believe you will have a
new parliament; but I care not whether you have
or no a better. You are mistaken in all your con-
jectures about the Tatlers. I have given him one
or two hints, and you have heard me talk about the
Shilling. Faith, these answering letters are very
long ones you have taken up almost the room of a
week in journals; and I will tell you what, I saw
fellows wearing crosses to-day [St. Andrew's day],
and I wondered what was the matter; but just this
minute I recollect it is little Presto's birthday; and
I was resolved these three days to remember it when
it came, but could not. Pray, drink my health to-
day at dinner; do, you rogues. Do you like Sid
Hamet's rod? Do you understand it all? Well,
now at last I have done with your letter, and so I
will lay me down to sleep, and about fair maids ;
and I hope merry maids all.
December 1. Morning. I wish Smyth were
hanged. I was dreaming the most melancholy
things in the world of poor Stella, and was
grieving and crying all night. Pshah, it is foolish :
I will rise and divert myself; so good-morrow, and
God of his infinite mercy keep and protect you.
The bishop of Clogher's letter is dated Nov. 21.
He says you thought of going with him to Clogher.
I am heartily glad of it, and wish you would ride
there, and Dingley go in a coach. I have had no fit
since my first, although sometimes my head is not
quite in good order. At night.-I was this morn-
ing to visit Mr. Pratt, who is come over with poor
sick lord Shelburn; they made me dine with them,
and there I stayed like a booby till eight, looking
+
Iord
over them at ombre; and then came home.
Shelburn's giddiness is turned into a colic, and he
looks miserably.
2. Steele, the rogue, has done the impudentest
thing in the world; he said something in a Tatler,
that we ought to use the word Great Britain, and
not England, in common conversation; as, the
finest lady in Great Britain, &c. Upon this Rowe,
Prior, and I sent him a letter, turning this into
ridicule. He has to-day printed the letter, and
signed it J. S., M. P., and N. R., the first letters of
our names. Congreve told me to-day he smoked it
immediately. Congreve and I, and sir Charles
Wager, dined to-day at Delaval's, the Portugal
envoy; and I stayed there till eight, and came
home, and am now writing to you before I do busi-
ness, because that dog Patrick is not at home, and
the fire is not made, and I am not in my gear. Pox
take him :—I was looking by chance at the top of
this side, and find I make plaguy mistakes in words
so that you must fence against that as well as bad
writing. Faith, I cannot nor will not read what I
have written. (Pox of this puppy!) Well, I will
leave you till I am got to bed, and then I will say a
word or two.
word or two. Well, it is now almost twelve, and I
have been busy ever since, by a fire too (I have my
coals by half a bushel at a time, I will assure you),
and now I am got to bed. Well, and what have
you to say to Presto now he is abed? Come, now,
let us hear your speeches. No, it is a lie, I am not
sleepy yet. Let us sit up a little longer, and talk.
Well, where have you been to-day, that you are but
just this minute come home in a coach? What have
you lost? Pay the coachman, Stella. No, faith,
not I, he will grumble. What new acquaintance
have you got? come, let us hear. I have made
Delaval promise to send me some Brazil tobacco
from Portugal for you, madam Dingley.
I hope
you will have your chocolate and spectacles before
this comes to you.
3. Pshaw, I must be writing to those dear saucy
brats every night, whether I will or no, let me have
what business I will, or come home ever so late,
or be ever so sleepy; but an old saying and a true
one,-
Be you lords, or be you earls,
You must write to naughty girls.
I was to-day at court, and saw Raymond among
the beef-eaters, staying to see the queen; so I put
him in a better station, made two or three dozen of
bows, and went to church, and then to court again
to pick up a dinner, as I did with sir John Stanley;
and then we went to visit lord Mountjoy, and just
now left him, and it is near eleven at night, young
women, and methinks this letter comes pretty near
to the bottom, and it is but eight days since the
date, and do not think I will write on the other
side, I thank you for nothing. Faith, if I would
use you to letters on sheets as broad as this room,
you would always expect them from me. O, faith,
I know you well enough; but an old saying, &c.
Two sides in a sheet,
And one in a street.
I think that is but a silly old saying, and so I will
go to sleep, and do you so to.
1. I dined to-day with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and
then came home and studied till evening. No ad-
venture at all to-day.
5. So I went to the court of requests (we have
had the devil and all of rain by the bye) to pick up
a dinner, and Heuley made me go dine with him
and one colonel Brag at a tavern; cost me money,
faith. Congreve was to be there, but came not. I
came with Henley to the coffeehouse, where lord
158
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
Salisbury seemed mighty desirous to talk with me;
and while he was wriggling himself into my favour,
that dog Henley asked me aloud whether I
would go to see lord Somers as I had promised?
(which was a lie), and all to vex poor lord Salisbury,
who is a high Tory. He played two or three other
such tricks, and I was forced to leave my lord, and
I came home at seven, and have been writing ever
since, and will now go to bed. The other day I
saw Jack Temple in the court of requests; it was
the first time of seeing him; so we talked two or
three careless words, and parted. Is it true that
your recorder and mayor, and fanatic aldermen, a
month or two ago, at a solemn feast, drank Mr.
Harley's, lord Rochester's, and other Tory healths?
Let me know; it was confidently said here. The
scoundrels! It shall not do, Tom.
6. When is this letter to go, I wonder: hearkee,
young women, tell me that? Saturday next for
certain, and not before: then it will be just a fort-
night; time enough for naughty girls, and long
enough for two letters, faith. Congreve and Dela-
val have at last prevailed on sir Godfrey Kneller
to entreat me to let him draw my picture for no-
thing; but I know not yet when I shall sit. It is
such monstrous rainy weather that there is no doing
with it. Secretary St. John sent to me this morn-
ing, that my dining with him to-day was put off till
to-morrow; so I peaceably sat with my neighbour
Ford, dined with him, and came home at six, and
am now in bed as usual; and now it is time to have
another letter from MD, yet I would not have it till
this goes; for that would look like two letters for
one. Is it not whimsical that the dean has never
once written to me? And I find the archbishop
very silent to that letter I sent him with an ac-
count that the business was done. I believe he
knows not what to write or say; and I have since
written twice to him, both times with a vengeance.
Well, go to bed, sirrahs, and so will I. But have
you lost to-day? Three shillings. O fie, O fie.
7. No, I will not send this letter to-day, nor till
Saturday, faith; and I am so afraid of one from
MD between this and that if it comes I will just
say I received a letter, and that is all, I dined to-
day with Mr. secretary St. John, where were lord
Anglesea, sir Thomas Hanmer, Prior, Freind, &c.,
and then made a debauch after nine at Prior's
house, and have eaten cold pie, and I hate the
thoughts of it, and I am full, and I do not like it,
and I will go to bed, and it is late, and so good
night.
;
8. To-day I dined with Mr. Harley and Prior;
but Mr. St. John did not come, though he pro-
mised he chid me for not seeing him oftener.
Here is a damned libellous pamphlet come out
against lord Wharton, giving the character first, and
then telling some of his actions; the character is
very well, but the facts indifferent.a It has been
sent by dozens to several gentlemen's lodgings, and
I had one or two of them, but nobody knows the
author or printer. We are terribly afraid of the
plague; they say it is at Newcastle. I begged Mr.
Harley for the love of God to take some care about
it, or we are all ruined. There have been orders
for all ships from the Baltic to pass their quarantine
before they land; but they neglect it. You remem-
ber I have been afraid these two years.
9. O faith, you are a saucy rogue. I have had
your 6th letter just now, before this is gone; but I
will not answer a word of it, only that I never was
giddy since my first fit, but I have had a cold just a
fortnight, and cough with it still morning and even-
This was his own writing, but uususpected at the time.
·
ing; but it will go off. It is, however, such abo-
minable weather that no creature can walk. They
say here three of your commissioners will be turned
out, Ogle, South, and St. Quintain, and that Dick
Stuart and Ludlow will be two of the new ones. I
am a little soliciting for another; it is poor lord
Abercorn, but that is a secret; I mean, that I be
friend him is a secret; but I believe it is too late,
by his own fault and ill fortune. I dined with him
to-day. I am heartily sorry you do not go to
Clogher, faith I am; and so God Almighty protect
poor dear, dear, dear, dearest MD. Farewell till
to-night. I will begin my 11th to-night; so I am
always writing to little MD.
LETTER THE ELEVENTH.
London, Dec. 9, 1710.
So, young women, I have just sent my 10th to the
post-office, and, as I told you, have received you r
7th (faith I am afraid I mistook, and said your 6th.
and then we shall be all in confusion this month).
Well, I told you I dined with lord Abercorn to.
day, and that is enough till by and by; for I must
go write idle things, and twittle-twattle. What is
here to do with your little MD's? and so I put this
by for a while. It is now late, and I can only
say MD is a dear, saucy rogue; and what then
Presto loves them the better.
10. This son of a b-- Patrick is out of the way;
and I can do nothing; am forced to borrow coals:
it is now six o'clock, and I am come home after e
pure walk in the park; delicate weather, begur
only to-day. A terrible storm last night: we hear
one of your packet-boats is cast away, and young
beau Swift in it, and general Sankey: I know not
the truth; you will before me. Raymond talks of
leaving the town in a few days, and going in
month to Ireland, for fear his wife should be too fa
gone, and forced to be brought to bed here.
think he is in the right, but perhaps this packet-boat
will fright him. He has no relish for London; and
I do not wonder at it. He has got some Templars
from Ireland that show him the town.
I do not
let him see me above twice a week, and that only
while I am dressing in the morning. So now the
puppy 's come in, and I have got my own ink, but
a new pen; and so now you are rogues and sauce-
boxes till I go to bed, for I must go study, sirrahs.
Now I think of it. tell the bishop of Clogher he
shall not cheat me of one inch of my bell-metal.
You know it is nothing but to save the town mo-
ney, and Enniskilling can afford it better than
Laracor; he shall have but one thousand five hun-
dred weight. I have been reading, &c., as usual,
and am now going to bed, and I find this day's
article is long enough; so get you gone till to-mor-
row, and then. I dined with sir Matthew Dudley.
11. I am come home again as yesterday, and the
puppy had again locked up my ink, notwithstanding
all I said to him yesterday; but he came home a
little after me, so all is well; they are lighting my
fire, and I will go study. The fair weather is gone
again, and it has rained all day. I do not like this
open weather, though some say it is healthy. They
say it is a false report about the plague at New-
castle. I have no news to-day; I dined with Mrs.
Vanhomrigh, to desire them to buy me a scarf; and
lady Abercorn is to buy me another, to see who
does best; mine is all in rags. I saw the duke of
Richmond yesterday at court again, but would not
speak to him; I believe we are fallen out. I am
now in bed, and it has rained all this evening like
wildfire. Have you so much ran in your town
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
159
Raymond was in a fright as I expected upon the
news of this shipwreck, but I persuaded him, and
he leaves this town in a week. I got him acquainted
with sir Robert Raymond, the solicitor-general,
who owns him to be of his family; and I believe it
may do him a kindness by being recommended to
your new lord chancellor. I had a letter rom Mrs.
Long that has quite turned my stomach against her;
no less than two nasty jests in it, with dashes to
suppose them. She is corrupted in that country-
town [Lynn, Norfolk] with vile conversation.
will not answer your letter till I have leisure, so let
this go on as it will, what care I what cares saucy
Presto?
I
Sir Mat-
12. I was to-day at the secretary's office with
Lewis, and in came lord Rivers, who took Lewis
out and whispered him, and then came up to me to
desire my acquaintance, &c.; so we bowed and
complimented a while, and parted; and I dined
with Phil. Savage and his Irish club at their board-
ing-place, and, passing an evening scurvily enough,
did not come home till eight. Mr. Addison and I
hardly meet once a fortnight; his parliament and
my different friendships keep us asunder.
thew Dudley turned away his butler yesterday
morning, and at night the poor fellow died suddenly
in the streets Was not it an odd event!
what eare you? but then I knew the butler. Why,
it seems your packet-boat is not lost: pshah, how
silly that is, when I had already gone through the
forms, and said it was a sad thing, and that I was
sorry for it!
But when must I answer this letter of
our MD's? Here it is, lics between this paper on
the other side the leaf: one of these odd-come-short-
lies I will consider, so good night.
But
13. Morning. I am to go trapesing with lady
Kerry and Mrs. Pratt to see sights all this day: they
engaged me yesterday morning at tea. You hear
the havoc making in the army: Meredyth, Macart-
ney, and colonel Honey wood, are obliged to sell
their commands at half value, and leave the army,
for drinking destruction to the present ministry, and
dressing up a hat on a stick and calling it Harley;
then drinking a glass with one hand, and discharg-
ing a pistol with the other at the maukin, wishing it
were Harley himself, and a hundred other such
pretty tricks, as inflaming their soldiers and foreign
ministers against the late changes at court. Cado-
gan has had a little paring; his mother told me yes-
terday he had lost the place of euvoy: but I hope
they will go no further with him, for he was not at
those mutinous meetings. Well, these saucy jades
take up so much of my time with writing to them in
a morning; but faith I am glad to see you whenever
I can a little snap and away; so hold your tongue,
for I must rise: not a word for your life. How
nowww? so very well; stay till I come home, and
then perhaps you may hear further from me. And
where will you go to-day, for I cannot be with you
for these ladies? It is a rainy ugly day. I would
have you send for Walls, and go to the dean's; but
do not play small games when you lose. You will
b
be ruined by Manilio, Basto, the queen, and two
small trumps in red. I confess it is a good hand
against the player; but then there are Spadilio,
Punto, the king, strong trumps against you, which,
with one trump more, are three tricks ten ace; for,
suppose you play your Manilio. O, silly, how I prate
and cannot get away from this MD in a morning.
Go, get you gone, dear naughty girls, and let me rise.
There, Patrick locked up my ink again the third time
ink again the third time
a Chancellor of the exchequer in Ireland.
Lieutenant-general, after earl of Cadogan, the friend of
Marlborough, envoy to the United Provinces and the govern-
ment of Spanish Flanders.
|
last night the rogue gets the better of me; but I
will rise in spite of you, sirrahs. At night.—Lady
Kerry, Mrs. Pratt, Mrs. Cadogan, and I in one
coach; lady Kerry's son and his governor and two
gentlemen in another; maids and misses, and little
master (lord Shelburn's children), in a third, all
hackneys; set out at ten o'clock this morning from
Lord Shelburn's house in Picadilly to the Tower,
and saw all the sights, lions, &c.; then to Bedlam;
then dined at the chophouse behind the Exchange;
then to Gresham College (but the keeper was not at
honie), and concluded the night at the puppet-show,
whence we came home safe at night, and I left
them. The ladies were all in mobs; how do you
call it? undressed; and it was the rainiest day that ever
dripped; and I am weary, and it is now past eleven.
14. Stay, I will answer some of your letter this
morning in bed: let me see; come and appear, little
letter. Here I am, says he, and what say you to
Mrs. MD this morning, fresh and fasting? who dares
think MD negligent! I allow them a fortnight, and
they give it me. I could fill a letter in a week; but
in
O
it is longer every day, and so I keep it a fortnight,
and then it is cheaper by one half. I have never
been giddy, dear Stella, since that morning: I have
taken a whole box of pills, and kecked at them every
night, and drank a pint of brandy at mornings.
then, you kept Presto's little birthday: would to
God I had been with you. I forgot it, as I told you
before. Rediculous, madam? I suppose you mean
ridiculous: let me have no more of that; it is the
author of the Atlantis's spelling. I have mended it
your letter. And can Stella read this writing
without hurting her dear eyes? O, faith, I am
afraid not. Have a care of those eyes, pray, pray,
pretty Stella. It is well enough what you observe,
that if I writ better, perhaps you would not read
so well, being used to this manner; it is an alphabet
you are used to; you know such a pothook makes a
letter; and you know what letter, and so and so
I will swear he told me so, and that they were long
letters too; but I told him it was a gasconade of
yours, &c.
yours, &c. I am talking of the bishop of Clogher,
how he forgot. Turn over.ª I had not room on
the other side to say that, so I did it on this: I fancy
that is a good Irish blunder. Ah, why do not you
go down to Clogher, nautinautinauti-dear girls; I
dare not say nauti without dear: O, faith, you
govern me. But seriously, I am sorry you do not
go, as far as I can judge at this distance. No, we
would get you another horse; I will make Parvisol
get you one. I always doubted that horse of yours;
prithee, sell him, and let it be a present to nie. My
heart aches when I think you ride him. Order
Parvisol to sell him, and that you are to return me
the money: I shall never be easy until he is out of
your hands. Faith, I have dreamed five or six times
of horses stumbling since I had your letter. If he
cannot sell him, let him run this winter. Faith, if
I was near you I would whip your to some tune,
for your grave saucy answer about the dean and
Jonsonibus; I would,
I would, young women. And did the
dean preach for me very well. Why, would they
have me stand here and preach to them? No, the
Tatler of the Shilling was not mine, more than the
hint and two or three general heads for it. I have
much more important business on my hands: and,
besides, the ministry hate to think that I should help
him, and have made reproaches on it; and I frankly
told them I would do it no more. This is a secret
though, madam Stella. You win eight shillings!
you win eight fiddlesticks. Faith, you say nothing
a He seems to have written these words in a whim, for tna
sake of what follows.
160
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
But,
of what you lose, young women. I hope Manley is
in no great danger; for Ned Southwell is his friend,
and so is sir Thomas Frankland; and his brother
John Manley stands up heartily for him. On the
other side, all the gentlemen of Ireland here are
furiously against him. Now, mistress Dingley, are
not you an impudent slut to expect a letter next
packet from Presto, when you confess yourself that
you had so lately two letters in four days? unrea-
sonable baggage! no, little Dingley, I am always in
bed by twelve! I mean my candle's out by twelve,
and I take great care of myself. Pray let everybody
know, upon occasion, that Mr. Harley got the first-
fruits from the queen for the clergy of Ireland, and
that nothing remains but the forms, &c. So you say
the dean and you dined at Stoyte's, and Mrs. Stoyte
was in raptures that I remembered her. I must do
it but seldom, or it will take off her rapture.
what now, you saucy sluts? all this written in a
morning, and I must rise and go abroad. Pray stay
till night: do not think I will squander mornings
upon you, pray good madam. Faith, if I go on
longer in this trick of writing in the mornings, I
shall be afraid of leaving it off, and think you expect
it, and be in awe. Good morrow, sirrahs; I will
rise. At night. I went to-day to the court of
requests (I will not answer the rest of your letter
yet, that by the way) in hopes to dine with Mr.
Harley but lord Dupplin, his son-in-law, told me
he did not dine at home; so I was at a loss, until I
met with Mr. secretary St. John, and went home
and dined with him, where he told me of a good
bite [a quiz]. Lord Rivers told me two days ago
that he was resolved to come Sunday fortnight next
to hear me preach before the queen. I assured him
the day was not yet fixed, and I knew nothing of it.
To-day the secretary told me that his father (sir
Harry St. John) and lord Rivers were to be at St.
James's church, to hear me preach there; and were
assured I was to preach: so there will be another
bite [quiz]; for I know nothing of the matter, but
that Mr. Harley and St. John are resolved I must
preach before the queen, and the secretary of state
has told me he will give me three weeks' warning;
but I desired to be excused, which he will not.
John, "you shall not be excused :" however, I hope
they will forget it: for, if it should happen, all the
puppies hereabouts will throng to hear me, and
expect something wonderful, and be plaguily balked,
for I shall preach plain honest stuff. I stayed with
St. John till eight, and then came home, and Patrick
desired leave to go abroad, and by and by comes up
the girl to tell me a gentleman was below in a coach.
who had a bill to pay me; so I let him come up, and
who should it be but Mr. Addison and Sam Dop-|
ping, to haul me out to supper, where I have stayed till
twelve. If Patrick had been at home I should have
escaped this; for I have taught him to deny me
almost as well as Mr. Harley's porter. Where did
1 leave off in MD's letter? let me see. So, now I
have it. You are pleased to say, madam Dingley,
that those that go for England can never tell when
to came back. Do you mean this as a reflection upon
Presto, madam? Sauceboxes, I will come back as
soon as I can: this is his common phrase, and I hope
with some advantage, unless all ministries be alike,
as perhaps they may. I hope Hawkshaw is in
Dublin before now, and that you have your things.
and like your spectacles; if you did not you shall
have better. I hope Dingley's tobacco did not spoil
Stella's chocolate, and that all is safe; pray let me
know. Mr. Addison and I are different as black
a
St.
They did not succeed, for the doctor never would preach
before the quecu
and white, and I believe our friendship will go off
by this damned business of party: he cannot bear
seeing me fall in so with this ministry; but I love
him still as well as ever, though we seldom meet.-
Hussy, Stella, you jest about poor Congreve's eyes;
you do so, hussy, but I will bang your bones, faith.
I
Yes, Stecle was a little while in prison, or at least
in a spunging-house, some time before I came, but
not since.-Pox on your convocation and your
Lamberts; they write with a vengeance! I suppose
you think it a piece of affectation in me to wish your
Irish folks would not like my Shower; but you are
mistaken. I should be glad to have the general ap-
plause there as I have here (though I say it), but I
have only that of one or two, and therefore I would
have none at all, but let you all be in the wrong.
do not know, that is not what I would say; but I
am so tosticated with supper and stuff that I cannot
express myself. What you say of Sid Hamet is well
enough; that an enemy should like it, and a friend
not; and that telling the author would make both
change their opinions. Why did not you tell Grif-
fyth that you fancied there was something in it of
my manner? but first spur up his commendation to
the height, as we served my poor uncle about the
sconce that I mended. Well, I desired you to give
what I intended for an answer to Mrs. Fenton, to
save her postage and myself trouble; and I hope I
have done it if you have not.
15. Lord, what a long day's writing was jester-
day's answer to your letter, sirrahs. I dined to-day
with Lewis and Ford, whom I have brought ac-
quainted. Lewis told me a pure thing. I had been
hankering with Mr. Harley to save Steele his other
employment, and have a little mercy on him, and I
had been saying the same thing to Lewis, who is
Mr. Harley's chief favourite. Lewis tells Mr. Har-
ley how kindly I should take it if he would be
reconciled to Steele, &c. Mr. Harley, on my account,
falls in with it, and appoints Steele a time to let
him attend him, which Steele accepts with great
submission, but never comes, nor sends any excuse.
Whether it was blundering, sullenness, insolence, or
rancour of party, I cannot tell; but I shall trouble
myself no more about him. I believe Addison hin-
dered him out of mere spite, being grated to the
soul to think he should ever want my help to save
his friend; yet now he is soliciting me to make
another of his friends queen's secretary at Genera;
and I will do it if I can; it is poor Pastoral Philips.
16. O, why did you leave my picture behind you
at the other lodgings; forget it? well; but pray
remember it now. and do not roll it up, do you hear?
but hang it carefully in some part of your room,
where chairs, and candles, and mopsticks, will not
spoil it, sirrahs. No, truly, I will not be god-
father to Goody Walls this bout, and I hope
she will have no more. There will be no quiet nor
cards for this child. I hope it will die the day after
the christening. Mr. Harley gave me a paper, with
an account of the sentence you speak of against the
lads that defaced the statue, and that Ingoldsby re-
prieved that part of it standing before the statue.
hope it was never executed. We have got your
Broderick out; Doyne is to succeed him, and Cox
Doync. And so there is an end of your letter; it
is all answered, and now I must go on upon my own
stock: go on, did I say? why, I have written enough:
but this is too soon to send it yet, young women;
faith I dare not use you to it, you will always expect
it; what remains shall be only short journals of a
"Dr. Lambert, chaplam to lord Wharton.
1
Of king William, erected after the battle ci the Bovae, zu
the College-green, Dublu
JOURNAL. TO STELLA.
161
day, and so I will rise, for this morning. At night.
-I dined with my opposite neighbour, Darteneuf
[a great epicure], and I was soliciting this day to
present the bishop of Clogher [Dr. St. George Ashe]
vice chancellor: but it will not do; they are all set
against him, and the duke of Ormond, they say, has
resolved to dispose of it somewhere else. Well;
little saucy rogues, do not stay out too late to-night,
because it is Saturday night, and young women
should come home soon then.
17. I went to court to seek a dinner, but the queen
was not at church, she has got a touch of the gout;
so the court was thin, and I went to the coffeehouse;
and sir Thomas Frankland and his eldest son and I
went and dined with his son William. I talked a
great deal to sir Thomas about Manley, and find he
is his good friend, and so has Ned Southwell been,
and I hope he will be safe though all the Irish folks
here are his mortal enemies. There was a devilish
bite to-day. They had it, I knew not how, that I
was to preach this morning at St. James's church,
and abundance went, among the rest lord Radnor,
who never is abroad till three in the afternoon.
walked all the way home from Hatton-garden at
six, by moonlight, a delicate night. Raymond called
at uine, but I was denied, and now I am in bed
between eleven and twelve, just going to sleep, and
dream of my own dear roguish impudent pretty MD.
I
18. You will now have short days' works, just a
few lines to tell you where I am, and what I am
doing; only I will keep room for the last day to tell
you news, if there be any worth sending. I have
been sometimes like to do it at the top of my letter,
until I remarked it would be old before it reached
you. I was hunting to dine with Mr. Harley to-day,
but could not find him; and so I dined with honest
Dr. Cockburn, and came home at six, and was taken
out to next door by Dopping and Ford, to drink bad
claret and oranges, and we let Raymond come to us,
who talks of leaving the town to-morrow, but I be-
lieve will stay a day or two longer. It is now late,
and I will say no more, but end this line with bid-
ding my own dear saucy MD good night, &c.
I am
19. I am come down proud stomach in one in-
stance, for I went to-day to see the duke of Buck-
ingham, but came too late; then I visited Mrs.
Barton, and thought to have dined with some of the
ministry; but it rained, and Mrs. Vanhomrigh was
nigh, and I took the opportunity of paying her for
a scarf she bought me, and diued there; at four I
went to congratulate with lord Shelburn, for the
death of poor lady Shelburn dowager: he was at his
country house, and returned while I was there, and
had not heard of it, and he took it very well.
now come home before six, and find a packet from
the bishop of Clogher, with one enclosed to the duke
of Ormond, which is ten days earlier dated than
another I had from Parvisol: however, it is no
matter, for the duke has already disposed of the vice
chancellorship to the archbishop of Tuam,ª and I
could not help it, for it is a thing wholly, you know,
in the duke's power; and I find the bishop bas
enemies about the duke. I writ this while Patrick
is folding up my scarf, and doing up the fire (for I
keep a fire, it costs me twelvepence a week), and so
be quiet till I am gone to bed, and then sit down by
me a little, and we will talk a few words more.
Well; now MD is at my bedside; and now what
shall we say? How does Mrs. Stoyte? What had
the dean for supper? How much did Mrs. Walls
win? Foor lady Shelburn: well, go get you to
bed, sirraha.
Dr. John Vesey, bishop of Limerick, June 11th, 1672;
translated to Tuam, March 18th, 1678. He died in 1716
VOL. I.
|
20. Morning. I was up this morning early, and
shaved by candlelight, and write this by the fireside.
Poor Raymond just came in and took his leave of
me; he is summoned by high order from his wife,
but pretends he has had enough of London. I was
a little melancholy to part with him: he goes to
Bristol, where they are to be with his merchant.
brother, and now thinks of staying till May; so she
must be brought to bed in England. He was so
easy and manageable, that I almost repent I suffered
him to see me so seldom. But he is gone, and will
save Patrick some lies in a week: Patrick is grown
admirable at it, and will make his fortune. How
now, sirrah, must I write in a morning to your im-
pudence?
Stav till night,
And then I'll write,
In black and white,
By candlelight
Of wax so bright,
It helps the sight,
A bite a bite!
Marry come up, Mrs. Boldface.
At night.-Dr. Raymond came back, and goes to-
morrow. I did not come home till eleven, and found
him here to take leave of me. I went to the Court
of Requests, thinking to find Mr. Harley and dine
with him, and refuse Henley and every body, and at
last knew not where to go, and met Jemmy Leigh
by chance, and was just in the same way, so I dined
at his lodging on a beefsteak, and drank your health,
then left him, and went to the tavern with Ben
Tooke and Portlack, the duke of Ormond's secre-
tary, drinking nasty white wine till eleven. I am
sick and ashamed of it, &c.
21. I met that beast Ferris, lord Berkeley's
steward formerly: I walked with him a turn in the
Park, and that scoundrel dog is as happy as an em-
peror, has married a wife with a considerable estate
in land and houses about this town, and lives at his
ease at Hammersmith. See your confounded sect
[sex]. Well; I had the same luck to-day with Mr.
Harley: it was a lovely day, and went by water into
the city, aud dined with Stratford at a merchant's
house, and walked home with as great a dunce as
Ferris (I mean colonel Caufield, and came home by
eight, and now am in bed, and going to sleep for a
wager, and will send this letter on Saturday, or so;
but first I will wish you a merry Christmas and a
happy new year, and pray God we may never keep
them asunder again.
22. Morning. I am going now to Mr. Harley's
levee on purpose to vex lum: I will say I had no
other way of seeing him, &c. Patrick says it is a
dark morning, and that the duke of Argyle is to be
knighted to-day; the booby means installed at
Windsor. But I must rise, for this is a shaving day,
and Patrick says there is a good fire. I wish MD
were by it, or I by MD's. At night.-I forgot to
tell you, madam Dingley, that I paid nine shillings
for your glass and spectacles, of which three were
for the bishop's case. I am sorry I did not buy you
such another case; but if you like it, I will bring one
over with me; pray tell me the glass to read was
four shillings, the spectacles two. And have you
had your chocolate? Leigh says he sent the pet-
ticoat by one Mr. Spencer. Pray, have you no
further commissions for me? I paid the glassman
but last night, and he would have made me a
present of the microscope worth thirty shillings,
and would have sent it home with me. I thought the
deuce was in the man: he said I could do him more
service than that was worth, &c. I refused his
present, but promised him all service I could do
him; and so now I am obliged in honour to recom-
mend him to everybody. At night.-I went to
Mr. Harley's levee: he came and asked me what
had 1 to do there, and bid me come and dine with
M
162
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
him on a family dinner; which I did, and it was
the first time I ever saw his lady and daughter. At
five my lord keeper came in: I told Mr. Harley,
he had formerly presented me to sir Simon Har-
court, but now must to my lord keeper, so he
laughed, &c.
23. Morning. This letter goes to-night without
fail. I hope there is none from you yet at the cof-
fee-house; I will send and see by and by; and let
you know, and so and so. Patrick goes to see for
a letter what will you lay, is there one from MD
or no. No, I say; done, for sixpence. Why has
the dean never once written to me?—I won
sixpence; I won sixpence; there is not one letter
to Presto. Good morrow, dear sirrahs: Stratford
and I dine to-day with lord Mountjoy. God
Almighty preserve and bless you! farewell, &c.
I have been dining at lord Mountjoy's; and
am come to study: our news from Spain this post
takes off some of our fears. The parliament is
prorogued to-day, or adjourned rather, till after the
holidays. Bank stock is 105, so I may get 127.
for my bargain already. Patrick the puppy is
is
0
abroad, and how shall I send this letter? Good
night, little dears both, and be happy, and re-
member your poor Presto, that wants you sadly,
as hope saved. Let me go study, naughty girls, and
do not keep me at the bottom of the paper.
faith, if you knew what lies on my hands constantly,
would wonder to see how I could write such
long letters; but we will talk of that some other
time. Good night again, and God bless dear MD
with his best blessing; yes, yes, and Dingley, and
Stella, and me too! &c.
you
Ask the bishop of Clogher about the pun I sent
him of lord Stawell's brother; it will be a pure
bite. This letter has 199 lines in it, besides all
postscripts; I had a curiosity to reckon.
There is a long letter for you.
It is longer than a sermon, faith.
I had another letter from Mrs. Fenton, who says
you were with her. I hope you did not go on
purpose. I will answer her letter soon; it is about
some money in lady Giffard's hands.
They say you have had eight packets due to you;
so pray, madams, do not blame Presto, but the wind.
My humble service to Mrs. Walls and Mrs. Stoyte;
I missed the former a good while.
LETTER THE TWELFTH.
London, Dec. 23, 1710.
I HAVE sent my 11th to-night as usual, and begin
the dozenth, and told you I dined with Stratford at
lord Mountjoy's, and I will tell you no more at
present guess for why; because I am going to
mind things, and mighty affairs, not your nasty
first-fruits. I let them alone till Mr. Harley gets
the queen's letter, but other things of greater
but other things of greater
moment, that you shall know one day, when the
ducks have eaten up all the dirt. So sit still a
while just by me while I am studying, and do not
say a word, I charge you, and when I am going to
bed, I will take you along, and talk with you a
little while; so there, sit there.-Come then, let us
see what we have to say to these saucy brats,
that will not let us go sleep at past eleven. Why, I
am a little impatient to know how you do; but that
I take it for a standing maxim, that when you are
silent, all is pretty well, because that is the way I
will deal with you; and if there was anything you
ought to know now, I would write by the first
post, although I had written but the day before.
Remember this, young women, and God Almighty
preserve you both, and make us happy together;
and tell me how accounts stand between us, that you
may be paid long before it is due, not to want.
will return no more money while I stay, so that you
need not be in pain to be paid; but let me know at
least a month before you can want. Observe this,
do you hear, little dear sirrahs, and love Presto as
Presto loves MD, &c.
24. You will have a merrier Christmas eve than
we here. I went up to court before church, and
in one of the rooms, there being but little company,
a fellow in a red coat without a sword came up to
me, and after words of course, asked me how the
ladies did. I asked what ladies? He said Mis.
Dingley and Mrs. Johnson: very well, said I, when
I heard from them last: and pray, when came you
from thence, sir? He said, I never was in Ireland;
and just at that word lord Winchelsea comes up to
me, and the man went off as I went out I saw him
again, and recollected him
again, and recollected him; it was Vedeau with a
pox. I then went and made my apologies, that my
head was full of something I had to say to lord
Winchelsea, &c., and I asked after his wife, and so
all was well, and he inquired after my lodging,
because he had some favour to desire of me in
Ireland, to recommend somebody to somebody, I
know not what it is. When I came from church I
went up to court again, where sir Edmund Bacon
told me the bad news from Spain, which you will
hear before this reaches you; as we have it now, we
are undone there, and it was odd to see the whole
countenances of the court changed so in two hours.
Lady Mountjoy carried me home to dinner, where I
stayed not long after, and came home early, and now
am got into bed, for you must always write to your
MD's in bed, that is a maxim.
Mr. White and Mr. Red, Write to MD when abed;
Mr. Black and Mr. Brown, Write to MD when you are down;
Mr. Oak and Mr. Willow, Write to MD on your pillow.
What is this? faith 1 smell fire; what can it be?
this house has a thousand stinks in it. I think to
leave it on Thursday, and lodge over the way.
Faith I must rise, and look at my chimney, for the
smell grows stronger; stay-I have been up, and in
my room, and found all safe, only a mouse within
the fender to warm himself, which I could not catch.
I smelt nothing there, but now in my bed-chamber
I smell it again; I believe I have singed the woollen
curtains, and that is all, though I cannot smoke it.
Presto 's plaguy silly to-night; is not he? Yes,
and so he be. Ay, but if I should wake and
see fire. Well; I will venture; so good night, &c.
25. Pray, young women, if I write so much as
this every day, how will this paper hold a fortnight's
work, and answer one of yours into the bargain?
You never think of this, but let me go on like a
simpleton. I wish you a merry Christmas, and
many, many a one with poor Presto at some pretty
place. I was at church to-day by eight, and received
the sacrament, and came home by ten: then went
to court at two. It was a collar-day, that is, when
the knights of the Garter wear their collars; but the
queen stayed so late at sacrament, that I came back,
and dined with my neighbour Ford. because all
people dine at home on this day. This is likewise a
collar-day all over England in every house, at least
where there is brawn: that is very well.-I tell you
a good pun: a fellow hard by pretends to cure agues,
and has set out a sign, and spells it egoes; a gentle-
man and I observing it, he said, How does that
A shopkeeper, and left his counter and trade for the
The loss of the battle of Villa Viciosa,
army.
JOURNAL TO STELLA
163
to
O
O
fellow pretend to cure agues? I said, I did not
know, but I was sure it was not by a spell. That is
admirable. And so you asked the bishop about that
Bite.
of lord Stawell's brother.
Have 1
pun
caught you, young women? Must you pretend
ask after roguish puns, and Latin ones too?
but you smoke me, and did not ask the bishop.
you are a fool, and you did. I met Vedeau again
at court to-day, and I observed he had a sword on.
I fancy he was broke (as a trader), and has got a
commission, but I never asked him. Vedeau I
think his name is, yet Parvisol's man is Vedel, that
is true. Bank stock will fall like stockfish by this
bad news, and two days ago I could have got 127.
by my bargain; but do not intend to sell, and in
time it will rise. It is odd that my lord Peter-
borow foretold this loss two months ago, one night
ac Mr. Harley's, when I was there : he bid us count
upon it, that Stanhope would lose Spain before
Christmas; that he would venture his head upon it,
and give us reasons; and though Mr. Harley argued
the contrary, he still held to his opinion. I was
telling my lord Anglesea this at court this morning,
and a gentleman by said, he had heard my lord
Peterborow affirm the same thing. I have heard
wise folks say, An ill tongue may do much. And it is
an old saying.
Once I guess'd right, and I got credit by it;
Thrice I guess'd wrong, and I kept my credit on.
No, it is you are sorry, not I.
a
26. By the lord Harry I shall be done here with
Christmas-boxes. The rogues at the coffeehouse
have raised their tax, every one giving a crown, and
I gave mine for shame, besides a great many half-
crowns, to great men's porters, &c. I went to-day
by water into the city, and dined with no less aman
than the city printer. There is an enmity between
us, built upon reasons that you shall know when I
see you: but the rain caught me within twelve-
penny length of home. I called at Mr. Harley's,
who was not within, dropped my half-crown with
his porter, drove to the coffeehouse, where the rain
kept me till nine. I had letters to-day from the
archbishop of Dublin, and Mr. Bernage: the latter
sends me a melancholy account of lady Shelburn's
death, and his own disappointments, and would
gladly be a captain; if I can help him I will.
27. Morning.-I bespoke a lodging over the way
for to-morrow, and the dog let it yesterday to another.
I gave him no earnest, so it seems he could do it.
Patrick would have had me give him earnest to
bind him; but I would not. So I must go saunter
to-day for a lodging somewhere else. Did you ever
see so open a winter in England? We have not had
two frosty days; but it pays it off in rain: we have
not had three fair days these six weeks. O faith,
I dreamed mightily of MD last night; but so con-
fused I cannot tell a word. I have made Ford ac-
quainted with Lewis, and to-day we dined together:
in the evening I called at one or two neighbours,
hoping to spend a Christmas evening; but none were
at home, they were all gone to be merry with others.
I have often observed this, that in merry times every
body is abroad; where the deuce are they? So I
went to the coffeehouse and talked with Mr. Addison
an hour, who at last remembered to give me two
letters, which I cannot answer to-night, nor to-morrow
neither, I can assure you, young women, count upon
that. I have other things to do than to answer
naughty girls; an old saying and true.
Letters from MD's
Must not be answered in ten days:
It is but bad rhyme, &c.
• Mr. John Barber, afterwards lord mayor.
28. To-day I had a message from sir Thomas
Hanmer to dine with him: the famous Dr. Small-
ridge [afterwards bishop of Bristol] was of the com-
pany, and we sat till six, and I came home to my
new lodgings in St. Alban Street, where I pay the
same rent (eight shillings a week) for an apartment
two pair of stairs; but I have the use of the parlour
to receive persons of quality, and I am got into my
new bed, &c.
29. Sir Andrew Fountaine has been very ill this
week, and sent to me early this morning to have
prayers, which you know is the last thing. I found
the doctors and all in despair about him. I read
prayers to him, found he had settled all things; and
when I came out the nurse asked me, whether I
thought it possible he could live, for the doctors
thought not. I said, I believed he would live; for I
found the seeds of life in him, which I observe seldom
fail; (and I found them in poor dearest Stella, when
she was ill many years ago;) and to-night I was with
him again, and he was mightily recovered, and I hope
he will do well, and the doctor approved my reasons;
but if he should die, I should come off scurvily. The
secretary of state (Mr. St. John) sent to me to dine
with him; Mr. Harley and lord Peterborow dined there
too, and at night came lord Rivers. Lord Peterborow
goes to Vienna in a day or two; he has promised to
make me write to him. Mr. Harley went away about
six, but we stayed till seven. I took the secretary aside,
and complained to him of Mr. Harley, that he got the
queen to grant the first-fruits, promised to bring me
to her, and get her letter to the bishops of Ireland;
but the last part he had not done in six weeks, and
I was in danger to lose reputation, &c. He took
the matter right, desired me to be with him on
Sunday morning, and promised me to finish the affair
in four days; so I shall know in a little time what
I have to trust to.-It is nine o'clock, and I must go
study, you little rogues; and so good night, &c.
I have
30. Morning.-The weather grows cold, you
sauceboxes. Šir Andrew Fountaine, they bring me
word, is better. I will go rise, for my hands are.
starving while I write in bed. Night. Now sir
Andrew Fountaine is recovering he desires to be at
ease; for I called in the morning to read prayers,
but he had given orders not to be disturbed.
lost a legacy by his living; for he told me he had left
me a picture and some books, &c. I called to see my
quondam neighbour Ford, (do you know what quon-
dam is, though?) and he engaged me to dine with
him; for he always dines at home on opera days.
I came home at six, writ to the archbishop, then
studied till past eleven, and stole to bed, to write to
MD these few lines to let you know I am in good
health at the present writing hereof, and hope in
God MD is so too. I wonder I never write politics
to you: I could make you the profoundest politician
in all the lane.-Well, but when shall we answer
this letter, No. 8, of MD's? Not till next year, faith.
O Lord-bo-but that will be a Monday next.
Cod's so, is it? and so it is: never saw the like.-
I made a pun the other day to Ben Portlack about a
pair of drawers. Poh, said he, that is mine a-all over.
Pray, pray, Dingley, let me go sleep; pray, pray,
Stella, let me go slumber, and put out my wax candle.
31. Morning.-It is now seven, and I have got a
fire, but am writing abed in my bedchamber. It is
not shaving day, so I shall be ready early to go
before church to Mr. St. John, and to-morrow I will
answer our MD's letter.
Would you auswer MD's letter,
On New-year's day you will do it better ·
For when the year with MD 'gins,
It without MD never lins.
N 2
164
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
(These proverbs have always old words in them; lins
is leave off.)
But if on New year you write nones,
MD then will bang your bones.-
But Patrick says I must rise. Night.-I was early
this morning with secretary St. John, and gave him
a memorial to get the queen's letter for the first-fruits,
who has promised to do it in a very few days. He
told me he had been with the duke of Marlborough,
who was lamenting his former wrong steps in joining
with the Whigs, and said he was worn out with age,
fatigues and misfortunes. I swear it pitied me; and
I really think they will not do well in too much
mortifying that man, although indeed it is his own
fault. He is coveteous as hell, and ambitious as
a good letter. There. Pray, how have you got up
with Presto, madam Stella? You write your 8th
when you receive mine: now I write my 12th when 1
receive your 8th. Do not you allow for what are upon
the road, simpleton? what say you to that? and so
you kept Presto's little birthday, I warrant: would
to God I had been at the health, rather than here,
where I have no manner of pleasure, nothing but
eternal business upon my hands. I shall grow wise
with my heart and vitals, that we may never be
in time; but no more of that: only I say Amen
asunder again ten days together while poor Presto
lives.
I cannot be merry so
near any splenetic talk; so I made that long line.
and now all is well again. Yes, you are a pretend-
and your journal, and every thing. Wind-we saw
no wind here, nothing at all extraordinary at any
time. We had it once when you had it not. But
an old saying and a true;
I hate all winds before and behind,
From cheeks with eyes, or from blind.
the prince of it: he would fain have been generaling slut, indeed, with your 4th and 5th in the margin,
for life, and has broken all endeavours for peace, to
keep his greatness and get money. He told the
queen he was neither covetous nor ambitious. She
said, if she could have conveniently turned about, she
would have laughed, and could hardly forbear it in
his face. He fell in with all the abominable mea-
sures of the late ministry, because they gratified him
for their own designs. Yet he has been a successful
general, and I hope he will continue his command.
O Lord, smoke the politics to MD. Well; but
if you like them, I will scatter a little now and then,
and mine are all fresh from the chief hands.
Well,
I dined with Mr. Harley, and came away at six:
there was much company, and I was not merry
at all. Mr. Harley made me read a paper of verses
of Prior's. I read them plain without any fine
manner, and Prior swore I should never read any of
his again; but he would be revenged, and read some
of mine as bad. I excused myself, and said, I was
famous for reading verses the worst in the world,
and that everybody snatched them from me when I
offered to begin. So we laughed.-Sir Andrew
Fountaine still continues ill. He is plagued with
some sort of bile.
January 1. Morning.-I wish my dearest pretty
Dingley and Stella a happy new-year, and health and
mirth, and good stomachs, and Fr's company. Faith,
I did not know how to write Fr. I wondered what
was the matter; but now I remember I always write
Pdfr. Patrick wishes me a happy new year, and
desires I would rise, for it is a good fire, and faith it
is cold. I was so politic last night with MD,
never saw the like. Get the Examiners, and read
them; the last nine or ten are full of the reasons
for the late change, and of the abuses of the last
ministry; and the great men assure me they are all
true. They are written by their encouragement
and direction. I must rise and go see Sir Andrew
Fountaine; but perhaps to-night I may answer MD's
letter; so good morrow, my mistresses all, good
morrow.
I wish you both a merry new year,
Roast beef, minced pics, and good strong beer,
Aud me a share of your good cheer;
That I was there, or you were here,
And you are a little saucy dear.
Good morrow again, dear sirrahs; one cannot rise
for your play. At night.-I went this morning to
Visit lady Kerry and lord Shelburn, and they made
Sir Andrew Fountaine is
me dine with them.
better. And now let us come and see what this
saucy dear letter of MD says. Come out, letter,
come out from between the sheets; here it is under-
neath, and it will not come out. Come out again,
I say so there. Here it is. What says Presto to
me, pray? says it. Come, and let me answer for
you to your ladies. Hold up your head then, like
a Swift read very badly.
Your chimney fall down! God preserve you. I
suppose you only mean a brick or two: but that is
a damned lie of your chimney being carried to the
next house with the wind. Do not put such things
upon us; those matters will not pass here; keep a
little to possibilities. My lord Hertford would
have been ashamed of such a stretch. You should
take care of what company you converse with:
when one gets that faculty, it is hard to break one's
self of it. Jemmy Leigh talks of going over, but
quando? I do not know when he will go. O, now
you have had my 9th, now you are come up with
me; marry, come up with you, indeed. I know all
that business of lady S. Will nobody cut that
Dy's throat ? Five hundred pounds do you
call poor pay for living three months the life of a
king? They say she died with grief, partly being
forced to appear as witness in court about some
squabble among their servants. The bishop of
Clogher showed you a pamphlet. Well, but you
must not give your mind to believe those things;
people will say anything. The character is here
reckoned admirable, but most of the facts are trifles.
It was first printed privately here; and then some
bold cur ventured to do it publicly, and sold two
thousand in two days: who the author is must
remain uncertain. Do you pretend to know, impu-
dence? how durst you think so? pox on your par-
liaments: the archbishop has told me of it; but we
do not vouchsafe to know anything of it here. No,
no, no more giddiness yet: thank you, Stella, for
asking after it; thank you; God Almighty bless
you for your kindness to poor Presto!
Presto! You write
to lady Giffard and your mother upon what I ad-
vise, when it is too late. But yet I fancy this bad
news will bring down stocks so low that one might
buy to great advantage. I design to venture going
to see your mother some day when lady Giffard is
abroad. Well, keep your Rathburn and stuff. I
thought he was to pay in your money upon his
houses to be flung down about the what do you call
it? Well, madam Dingley, I sent your inclosed to
Bristol, but have not heard from Raymond since he
went. Come, come, young women, I keep a good
fire; it costs me twelvepence a-week, and I fear
something more; vex me, and I will have one in
my bedchamber too. No, did not I tell you but
just now, we have no high winds here? Have you
forgot already? Now you are at it again, silly
Stella; why does your mother say my candles are
scandalous? they are good sixes in the pound, and
she said I was extravagant enough to burn them by
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
165
daylight. I never burn fewer at a time than one.
What would people have the d- burst Hawk-
shaw. He told me he had not the box, and the
next day Sterne told me he had sent it a fortnight
ago: Patrick could not find him the other day, but
he shall to-morrow: dear life and heart, do you
teaze me? does Stella teaze Presto? that palsy
water was in the box: it was too big for a packet,
and I was afraid of its breaking. Leigh was not in
town then, or I would not have trusted it to Sterne,
whom yet I have befriended enough to do me more
kindness than that. I will never rest till you have
it, or till it is in a way for you to have it. Poor
dear rogue, naughty to think it teazes me: how
could I ever forgive myself for neglecting any thing
that related to your health? sure I were a devil if I
did. ************
See how far I
I am forced to stand from Stella, because I am
afraid she thinks poor Presto has not been careful
about her little things; I am sure I bought them
immediately according to order, and packed them
up with my own hands, and sent them to Sterne,
and was six times with him about sending them
away. I am glad you are pleased with your glasses.
I have got another velvet cap, a new one lord Her-
bert bought and presented me one morning I was
at breakfast with him, where he was as merry and
easy as ever I saw him, yet had received a challenge
half an hour before, and half an hour after fought a
duel. It was about ten days ago. You are mis-
taken in your guesses about Tatlers: I did neither
write that on Noses, nor Religion, nor do I send
him of late any hints at all.-Indeed, Stella, when
1 read your letter I was not uneasy at all; but
when I came to answer the particulars, and found
that you had not received your box, it grated me to
the heart, because I thought through your little
words, that you imagined I had not taken the care
I ought. But there has been some blunder in this
matter, which I will know to-morrow, and write to
Sterne, for fear he should not be within.-And
pray, pray, Presto, pray now do.-No, Raymond
was not above four times with me while he stayed,
and then only while I was dressing. Mrs. Fenton
has written me another letter about some money of
hers in lady Giffard's hands, that is entrusted to
me by my mother, not to come to her husband. I
send my letters constantly every fortnight, and if
you will have them oftener you may, but then they
will be the shorter. Pray, let Parrisol sell the
horse. I think I spoke to you of it in a former
letter: I am glad you are rid of him, and was in
pain while I thought you rode him: but if he would
buy you another, or any body else, and that you
could be often able to ride, why do not you do it?
2. I went this morning early to the secretary of
state, Mr. St. John, and he told me from Mr. Har-
ley, that the warrant was now drawn, in order for a
patent for the first-fruits: it must pass through
several offices and take up some time, because in
things the queen gives they are always considerate;
but that he assures me it is granted and done, and
past all dispute, and desires I will not be in any
pain at all. I will write again to the archbishop
to-morrow, and tell him this, and I desire you will
say it on occasion. From the secretary I went to
Mr. Sterne, who said he would write to you to-
night, and that the box must be at Chester, and that
some friend of his goes very soon, and will carry it
over. I dined with Mr Secretary St. John, and at
six went to Darteneuf's house to drink punch with
him, and Mr. Addison, and little Harrison, a young
• Enoch Sterne, esq., clerk to the house of lords in Ire-
Land.
poet whose fortune I am making. Steele was to
have been there, but came not, nor Lever did twice
since I knew him to any appointment. I stayed
Steele's last
till past eleven, and am now in bed.
Tatler came out to-day. You will see it before this
comes to you, and how he takes leave of the world.
He never told so much as Mr. Addison of it, who
was surprised as much as I; but to say the truth, it
was time, for he grew cruel dull and dry. To my
knowledge he had several good hints to go upon:
but he was so lazy and weak of the work, that he
would not improve them. I think I will send this
after to-morrow: shall I before it is full, Dingley?
it.
3. Lord Peterborow yesterday called me into a
barber's shop, and there we talked deep politics:
he desired me to dine with him to-day at the Globe
in the Strand: he said he would show me so clearly
how to get Spain, that I could not possibly doubt
I went to-day accordingly, and saw him among
half a dozen lawyers and attorneys and hang dogs,
signing deeds and stuff before his journey; for he
goes to-morrow to Vienna. I sat among that scurvy
company till after four, but heard nothing of Spain;
only I find by what he told me before, that he fears
he shall do no good in his present journey. We are
to be mighty constant correspondents. So I took
my leave of him, and called at Sir Andrew Foun
taine's, who mends much. I came home an't please
you at six, and have been studying till now pas
eleven.
4. Morning.-Morrow, little dears. O faith, I
have been dreaming; I was to be put in prison, I
do not know why, and I was so afraid of a black
dungeon and then all I had been inquiring yester-
day of sir Andrew Fountaine's sickness I thought
was of poor Stella. The worst of dreams is, that
one wakes just in the humour they leave one. Shall
I send this to-day? with all my heart: it is two
days within the fortnight; but may be MD are in
haste to have a round dozen, and then how are you
to come up to me with your Sth, young women?
But you indeed ought to write twice slower than I,
because there are two of you; I own that.—Well
then, I will seal up this letter by my morning can-
dle, and carry it into the city with me, where I go to
dine, and put it in the post-office with my own fair
hands. So let me see whether I have any news to
tell MD. They say they will very soon make some
inquiries into the corruptions of the late ministry;
and they must do it, to justify their turning them
out. Atterbury, [who succeeded] we think is to be
the dean of Christchurch in Oxford; but the col-
lege would rather have Smallridge.-What is all
this to you? what care you for Atterburys and
Smallridges? No, you care for nothing but Presto,
faith. So I will rise and bid you farewell; yet I
am loth to do so, because there is a great bit of
paper yet to talk upon; but Dingley will have it
so yes, says she, make your journals shorter, and
send them oftener; aud so I will. And I have
cheated you another way too; for this is clipped
paper, and holds at least six lines less than the for-
mer ones. I will tell you a good thing I said to my
lord Carteret. So, says he, my Lord
up to me, and asked me, &c. No, said I, my Lord
came
never did, nor ever can come up to you. We
all pun here sometimes. Lord Carteret set down
Prior the other day in his chariot, and Prior thanked
him for his charity; that was fit for Dilly [Dillon
Ashe]. I do not remember I heard one good one
from the ministry, which is really a shame. Henley
is gone to the country for Christmas. The puppy
comes here without his wife, and keeps no house,
and would have me dine with him at eating-houses;
t
168
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
but I have only done it once, and will do it no
more. He had not seen me for some time in the
coffeehouse, and, asking after me, desired lord
Herbert to tell me, I was a beast for ever after the
order of Melchisedec. Did you ever read the Scrip-
ture it is only changing the word priest to beast.
-I think I am bewitched to write so much in a
morning to you, little MD. Let me go, will you?
and I will come again to-night in a fine clean sheet
of paper; but I can nor will stay no longer now ;
no, I will not, for all your wheedling: no, no, look
off, do not smile at me, and say, pray, pray, Presto,
write a little more. Ah! you are a wheedling slut,
you be so. Nay, but pray thee turn about, and let
me go, do it is a good girl, and do. O faith,
my
morning candle is just out, and I must go now in
spite of my teeth; for my bed-chamber is dark with
curtains, and I am at the wrong side. So farewell,
&c. &c.
I am in the dark almost: I must have another
candle when I am up to seal this; but I will fold it
up in the dark, and make what you can of this, for
I can only see this paper I am writing upon. Ser-
vice to Mrs. Walls and Mrs. Stoyte.
God Almighty bless you, &c. What I am doing
I cannot see; but I will fold it up, and not look on
it again.
LETTER THE THIRTEENTH.
London, Jan. 4, 1710-11.
I was going into the city (where I dined) and put
my 12th with my own fair hands into the post-office
as I came back, which was not till nine this night.
I dined with people that you never heard of, nor is
it worth your while to know; an authoress and a
printer. I walked home for exercise, and at eleven
got into bed; and all the while I was undressing
myself, there was I speaking monkey things in air,
just as if MD had been by, and did not recollect
myself till I got into bed. I writ last night to the
archbishop, and told him the warrant was drawn for
the first-fruits, and I told him lord Peterborow
was set out for his journey to Vienna: but it seems
the lords have addressed to have him stay to be
examined about Spanish affairs, upon this defeat
there, and to know where the fault lay, &c. So I
write to the archbishop a lie; but I think it was not
a sin.
5. Mr. Secretary St. John sent for me this morn-
ing so early, that I was forced to go without shaving,
which put me quite out of method: I called at Mr.
Ford's, and desired him to lend me a shaving, and
so made a shift to get into order again. Lord!
here is an impertinence: sir Andrew Fountaine's
mother and sister are come above a hundred miles
from Worcester to see him before he died. They
got here but yesterday, and he must have been past
hopes, or past fears, before they could reach him.
I fell a scolding when I heard they were coming;
and the people about him wondered at me, and
said what a mighty content it would be on both
sides to die when they were with him. I knew the
mother; she is the greatest overdo upon carth, and
the sister, they say, is worse; the poor man will
relapse again among them. Here was the scoundrel
brother always crying in the outer room till sir
Andrew was in danger, and the dog was to have all
his estate if he died; and it is an ignoraut, worth-
less, scoundrel rake; and the nurses were comfort-
ing him, and desiring he would not take on so. I
dined to-day the first time with Ophy Butler and
his wife; and you supped with the dean, and lost
two-and-twenty pence at cards. Aud so Mrs
Walls is brought to bed of a girl, who died two days
after it was christened; and betwixt you and me,
she is not very sorry; she loves her ease and diver-
sions too well to be troubled with children. I will
go to bed.
6. Morning. I went last night to put some coals
on my fire after Patrick was gone to bed; and there
I saw in a closet a poor linnet he has bought to
bring over to Dingley; it cost him sixpence, and is
as tame as a dormouse. I believe he does not know
he is a bird;,, where you put him there he stands,
and seems to have neither hope nor fear; I suppose
in a week he will die of the spleen. Patrick advised
with me before he bought him. I laid fairly before
him the greatness of the sum, and the rashness of
the attempt; showed how impossible it was to carry
him safe over the salt sea; but he would not take
my counsel, and he will repent it. It is very cold
this morning in bed, and I hear there is a good fire
in the room without, what do you call it, the dining-
room. I hope it will be good weather, and so let
me rise, sirrahs, do so. At night.-I was this morn-
ing to visit the dean, or Mr. Prolocutor, I think
you call him, do not you? Why should not I go to
the dean's as well as you? A little black man of
pretty near fifty? Ay, the same. good pleasant
man? Ay, the same. Cunning enough? Yes.
One that understands his own interest? As well
as any body. How comes it MD and I do not
meet there sometimes ? A very good face, and
abundance of wit; do you know his lady? O Lord!
whom do you mean? I mean Dr. Atterbury, dean
of Carlisle, and prolocutor. Pshaw, Presto, you
are a fool; I thought you had meant our dean
of St. Patrick's. Silly, silly, silly, you are silly, both
are silly, every kind of thing is silly. As I walked
into the city, I was stopped with clusters of boys
and wenches, buzzing about the cakeshops like flies.
There had the fools let out their shops two yards
forward into the streets, all spread with great cakes
frothed with sugar, and stuck with streamers of
tinsel. And then I went to Bateman's, the book-
seller, and laid out eight-and-forty shillings for
books. I bought three little volumes of Lucian, in
French, for our Stella, and so, and so. Then I
went to Garraway's, to meet Stratford, and dine
with him; but it was an idle day with the mer-
chants, and he was going to our end of the town;
so I dined with sir Thomas Frankland, at the post-
office, and we drank your Manley's health.
It was
in a newspaper that he was turned out, but secretary
St. John told me it was false; only that newswriter
is a plaguy Tory. I have not seen one bit of Christ-
mas merriment.
7. Morning.-Your new lord-chancellor sets out
to-morrow for Ireland: I never saw him. He
carries over one Trapp, a parson, as his chaplain, a
sort of pretender to wit, a second-rate pamphleteer
for the cause, whom they pay by sending him to
Ireland. I never saw Trapp neither. I met Tighe,
and your Smyth, of Lovet's, yesterday by the Ex-
change. Tighe and I took no notice of each other;
but I stopped Smyth, and told him of the box that
lies for you at Chester, because he says he goes very
soon to Ireland, I think this week; and I will send
this morning to Sterne, to take measures with
Smyth; so good-morrow, sirrahs, and let me rise,
pray. I took up this paper when I came in at even
ing, I mean this minute, and then said I, No, no,
indeed, MD, you must stay, and then was laying it
aside, but could not for my heart, though I am very
busy, till I just ask you how you do since morning;
by and by we shall talk more, so let me lay you softly
down, little paper, till then; so ther-now to
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
167
par-
force, though I told him I was in love with his lady,
and it was a shame to keep back a lover, &c. But
all would not do. So at last I was forced to break
away, but never went up, it was then too late; and
here I am, and have a great deal to do to-night,
though it be nine o'clock; but one must say some-
thing to these naughty MD's, else there will be no
quiet.
business; there, I say, get you gone; no, I will not
push you neither, but hand you on one side-So-
Now I am got into bed, I will talk with you. Mr.
Secretary St. John sent for me this morning in all
haste; but I would not lose my shaving for fear of
missing church. I went to court, which is of late
always very full, and young Manley and I dined at
sir Matthew Dudley's. I must talk politics.
I
protest I am afraid we shall all be embroiled with 9. To-day Ford and I set apart to go into the city
parties. The Whigs, now they are fallen, are the to buy books; but we only had a scurvy dinner at
most malicious toads in the world. We have had an alehouse, and he made me go to the taveru, and
now a second misfortune, the loss of several Virginia drink Florence, four and sixpence a flask; damned
ships. I fear people will begin to think that no- wine! so I spent my money, which I seldom do,
thing thrives under this ministry; and if the ministry and past an insipid day, and saw nobody, and it is
can once be rendered odious to the people, the now ten o'clock, and I have nothing to say, but that
liament may be chosen Whig or Tory, as the queen it is a fortnight to-morrow since I had a letter from
pleases. Then I think our friends press a little too MD, but if I have it time enough to answer here, it
hard on the duke of Marlborough. The country is well
The country is well enough, otherwise woe betide you, faith:
members are violent to have past faults inquired I will go to the toyman's here just in Pall-mall, and
into, and they have reason; but I do not observe he sells great hugeous batoons; yes, faith, and so he
does.
the ministry to be very fond of it. In my opinion, does.
Do not
Does not he, Dingley? Yes, faith.
we have nothing to save us but a peace, and I am lose your money this Christmas.
sure we cannot have such a one as we hoped, and
then the Whigs will bawl what they would have
done had they continued in power. I tell the
ministry this as much as I dare, and shall venture to
say a little more to them, especially about the duke
of Marlborough, who, as the Whigs give out, will
lay down his command; and I question whether
ever any wise state laid aside a general who had
been successful nine years together, whom the
enemy so much dreaded, and his own soldiers can-
not but believe must always conquer; and you
know that in war opinion is nine parts in ten.
ministry hear me always with appearance of regard,
and much kindness; but I doubt they let personal
quarrels mingle too much with their proceedings.
Meantime, they seem to value all this as nothing,
and are as easy and merry as if they had nothing in
their hearts, or upon their shoulders; like physi-
cians, who endeavour to cure, but feel no grief,
whatever the patient suffers. Pshaw! what is all
this? Do you know one thing, that I find I can
write politics to you much easier than to any body
alive? But I swear my head is full, and I wish I
were at Laracor, with my dear charming MD, &c.
The
8. Morning. Methinks, young women, I have
made a great progress in four days, at the bottom of
this side already, and no letter yet come from MD.
(That word interlined is morning.) I find I have
been writing state affairs to MD. How do they
relish it? Why, any thing that comes from Presto
is welcome; though really, to confess the truth, if
they had their choice, not to disguise the matter,
they had rather, &c. Now, Presto, I must tell
you, you grow silly, says Stella. That is but
one body's opinion, madam. I promised to be
with Mr. Secretary St. John this morning; but I
am lazy, and will not go, because I had a letter
from him yesterday, to desire I would dine there
to-day. I shall be chid, but what care I? Here
has been Mrs. South with me, just come from sir
Andrew Fountaine, and going to market. He is
still in a fever, and may live or die. His mother
and sister are now come up, and in the house, so
there is a lurry. I gave Mrs. South half a pistole
for a new year's gift; so good morrow, dears, both,
till anon. At night.-Lord, I have been with
Mr. Secretary from dinner till eight; and, though
I drank wine and water, I am so hot. Lady
Stanley came to visit Mr. St. John, and sent up for
me, to make up a quarrel with Mrs. St. John, whom
I never yet saw; and do you think that devil of a
secretary would not let me go, but kept me by main
At
10. I must go this morning to Mr. Secretary St.
John. I promised yesterday, but failed, so I cannot
write any more till night, to poor dear MD.
night.-0, faith, Dingley, I had company in the
morning, and could not go where I designed; and
I had a basket from Raymond at Bristol, with six
bottles of wine, and a pound of chocolate, and some
tobacco to snuff; and he writ under, the carriage
was paid; but he lied, or I am cheated, or there is a
mistake; and he has written to me so confusedly
about things, that Lucifer could not understand him.
This wine is to be drank with Harley's brother and
sir Robert Raymond, solicitor-general, in order to
recommend the doctor to your new lord chancellor,
who left this place on Monday, and Raymond says
he is hasting to Chester to go with him.
I suppose
he leaves his wife behind; for, when he left London,
he bad no thoughts of stirring till summer. So I
suppose he will be with you before this. Ford
came and desired I would dine with him, because it
was opera day, which I did, and sent excuses to lord
Shelburn, who had invited me.
11. I am setting up a new Tatler, little Harrison,
whom I have mentioned to you. Others have put
him on it, and I encourage him; and he was with
me this morning and evening, showing me his first,
which comes out on Saturday. I doubt he will not
succeed, for I do not much approve his manner; but
the scheme is Mr. Secretary St. John's and mine,
and would have done well enough in good hands.
I recommended him to a printer, whom I sent for,
and settled the matter between them this evening.
Harrison has just left me, and I am tired with cor-
recting his trash.
12. I was this morning upon some business with
Mr. Secretary St. John, and he made me promise to
dine with him, which otherwise I would have done
with Mr. Harley, whom I have not been with these
ten days. I cannot but think they have mighty dif-
ficulties upon them; yet I always find them as easy
and disengaged as schoolboys on a holiday. Harley
has the procuring of five or six millions on his shoul-
ders, and the Whigs will not lend a groat; which is
the only reason of the fall of stocks; for they are
like Quakers and fanaties, that will only deal
among themselves, while all others deal indiffer-
ently with them. Lady Marlborough offers, if they
will let her keep her employments, never to
come into the queen's presence. The Whigs say
the duke of Marlborough will serve no more;
but I hope and think otherwise. I would to
heaven I were this minute with MD at Dublin;
168
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
for I am weary of politics that give me such me-
lancholy prospects.
13. O faith, I had an ugly giddy fit last night in
my chamber, and I have got a new box of pills to
take, and hope I shall have no more this good while.
I would not tell you before, because it would vex
you, little rogues: but now it is over. I dined to-
day with lord Shelburn, and to-day little Harrison's
new Tatler came out; there is not much in it, but
I hope he will mend. You must understand that,
upon Steele's leaving off, there were two or three
scrub Tatlers came out, and one of them holds on
still, and to-day it advertised against Harrison's;
and so there must be disputes which are genuine,
like the straps for razors. I am afraid the little toad
has not the true vein for it. I will tell you a copy
of verses. When Mr. St. John was turned out from
being secretary at war, three years ago, he retired
to the country; there he was talking of something
he would have written over his summer-house, and
a gentleman gave him these verses-
From business and the noisy world retired,
Nor vex'd by love, nor by ambition fired,
Gently I wait the call of Charon's boat,
Still drinking like a fish, and —— like a goat.
He swore to me he could hardly bear the jest; for
he pretended to retire like a philosopher, though he
was but twenty-eight years old: and I believe the
thing was true; for he had been a thorough rake.
I think the three grave lines do introduce the last
well enough. Od so, but I will go sleep; I sleep
early now.
14. O faith, young women, I want a letter from
MD; it is now nineteen days since I had the last;
and where have I room to answer it, pray? I hope
I shall send this away without any answer at all;
for I will hasten it, and away it goes on Tuesday,
by which time this side will be full. I will send it
two days sooner on purpose out of spite, and the
very next day after, you must know, your letter will
come, and then it is too late, and I will so laugh,
never saw the like! It is spring with us already, I
ate asparagus the other day. Did you ever see such
a frostless winter? Sir Andrew Fountaine lies still
extremely ill; it costs him ten guineas a-day to
doctors, surgeons, and apothecaries, and has done
so these three weeks. I dined to-day with Mr.
Ford: he sometimes chooses to dine at home, and I
am content to dine with him and at night I called
at the coffeehouse, where I had not been a week,
and talked coldly awhile with Mr. Addison: all our
friendship and dearness are off: we are civil ac-
quaintance, talked words of course, of when we shall
meet, and that is all. I have not been at any house
with him these six weeks: the other day we were
to have dined together at the comptroller's; but I
sent my excuses, being engaged to the secretary of
state. Is not it odd? But I think he has used me
ill, and I have used him too well, at least his friend
Steele.
15. It has cost me three guincas to-day for a peri-
wig. I am undone! It was made by a Leicester
lad, who married Mr. Worrell's daughter, where my
mother lodged; so I thought it would be cheap, and
especially since he lives in the city. Well, London
lickpenny: I find it true. I have given Harrison
hints for another Tatler to-morrow. The jackanapes
wants a right taste; I doubt he will not do. I dined
with my friend Lewis of the secretary's office, and am
got home early, because I have much business to do;
but before I begin I must needs say something to
MD, faith-No, faith, I lie, it is but nineteen days
to-day since my last from MD. I have got Mr.
Harley to promise that whatever changes are made
in the council, the bishop of Clogher shall not be
removed, and he has got a memorial accordingly. I
will let the bishop know so much in a post or two.
This is a secret; but I know he has enemies, and
they shall not be gratified, if they designed any such
thing, which perhaps they might; for some changes.
there will be made. So drink up your claret and be
quiet, and do not lose your money.
16. Morning.-Faith I will send this letter to-day
to shame you, if I have not one from MD before
night, that is certain. Will not you grumble for
want of the third side, pray, now? Yes, 1 warrant
you: yes, yes, you shall have the third, you shall so,
when you can catch it, some other time; when you
be writing, girls.-O faith, I think I will not stay
till night, but seal up this just now, and carry it in
my pocket, and whip it into the post-office as I come
home at evening. I am going out early this morn-
ing.-Patrick's bills for coals and candles, &c., come
sometimes to three shillings a-week; I keep very
good fires, though the weather be warm. Ireland
will never be happy till you get some small coal
likewise; nothing so easy, so convenient, so cheap,
so pretty for lighting a fire. My service to Mrs.
Stoyte and Walls; has she a boy or a girl? A girl,
hmm; and died in a week, hmmm, and was poor
Stella forced to stand for godmother?-Let me know
how accounts stand, that you may have your money
betimes. There is four months for my lodging, that
must be thought on too: and so go dine with Man-
ley, and lose your money, do, extravagant sluttikin,
but do not fret.-It will be just three weeks when
I have the next letter, that is to-morrow. Farewell,
dearest beloved MD, and love poor, poor Presto,
who has not had one happy day since he left you,
as hope saved.-It is the last sally I will ever make,
but I hope it will turn to some account. I have
done more for these, and I think they are more
honest than the last (ministry); however, I will
not be disappointed. I would make MD and me
easy; and I never desired more. Farewell, &c., &c.
LETTER THE FOURTEENTHI.
London, Jan. 16, 1710-11.
O FAITH, young women, I have sent my letter No.
13, without one crumb of an answer to any of MD's;
there is for you now; and yet Presto ben't angry
faith, not a bit, only he will begin to be in pain next
Irish post, except he sees MD's little handwriting
in the glass frame at the bar of St James's Coffee-
house, where Presto would never go but for that
purpose. Presto's at home, God help him, every
night from six till bed time, and has as little enjoy-
ment or pleasure in life at present as any body in
the world, although in full favour with all the
ministry. As hope saved, nothing gives Presto any
sort of dream of happiness, but a letter now and
then from his own dearest MD. I love the expect-
ation of it, and when it does not come, I comfort
myself, that I have it yet, to be happy with.
faith, and when I write to MD, I am happy too; it
is just as if methinks you were here, and I prating
to you, and telling you where I have been: Well,
says you, Presto, come, where have you been to-
day? come, let's hear now. And so then I answer;
Ford and I were visiting Mr Lewis, and Mr Prior,
and Prior has given me a fine Plautus, and then
Ford would have had me dine at his lodgings, and
so I would not; and so I dined with him at an
Yes,
eating-house; which I have not done five times
since I came here; and so I came home, after visit-
ing sir Andrew Fountaine's mother and sister, and
sir Andrew Fountaine is mending, though slowly.
17. I was making, this morning, some general
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
169
visits, and at twelve I called at the coffeehouse for a
letter from MD; so the man said he had given it to
Patrick; then I went to the Court of Requests and
Treasury to find Mr. Harley, and after some time
spent in mutual reproaches, I promised to dine with
him; I stayed there til seven, then I called at
Sterne's and Leigh's to talk about your box, and to
have it sent by Smyth. Sterue says he has been
making inquiries, and will set things right as soon
as possible. I suppose it lies at Chester, at least I
hope so, and only wants a lift over to you.
Here
has little Harrison been to complain that the printer
I recommended to him for his Tatler is a coxcomb;
and yet to see how things will happen; for this very
printer is my cousin; his name is Dryden Leach;
did you never hear of Dryden Leach, he that prints
the Postman? He acted Oroonoko; he is in love
with Miss Cross.-Well, so I came home to read my
letter from Stella, but the dog Patrick was abroad;
at last he came, and I got my letter. I found another
hand had superscribed it: when I opened it. I found
it written all in French, and subscribed Bernage:
faith, I was ready to fling it at Patrick's head. Ber-
nage tells me, he had been to desire your recommen-
dation to me to make him a captain; and your
cautious answer, "That he had as much power with
me as you," was a notable one: if you were here I
would present you to the ministry as a person of
ability. Bernage should let me know where to
write to him; this is the second letter I have had
without any direction: however, I beg I may not
have a third, but that you will ask him, and send me
how I shall direct to him. In the mean time, tell
him, that if regiments are to be raised here, as he
says, I will speak to George Granville, secretary at
war, to make him a captain; and use what other
interest I conveniently can. I think that is enough,
and so tell him, and do not trouble me with his
letters when I expect them from MD; do you hear,
young women? write to Presto.
18. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary St. John,
and we were to dine at Mr. Harley's alone, about
some business of importance; but there were two
or three gentlemen there. Mr. Secretary and I went
together from his office to Mr. Harley's, and thought
to have been very wise; but the deuce a bit the
company stayed, and more came, and Harley went
away at seven, and the secretary and I stayed with
the rest of the company till eleven; I would then
have had him come away, but he was in for it; and
though he swore he would come away at that flask,
there I left him. I wonder at the civility of these
people; when he saw I would drink no more, he
would always pass the bottle by me, and yet I could
not keep the toad from drinking himself, nor he
would not let me go neither, nor Masham, who was
with us.
When I got home I found a parcel di-
rected to me, and opening it, I found a pamphlet
written entirely against myself, not by name, but
against something I writ : it is pretty civil, and affects
to be so, and I think I will take no notice of it; it
is against something written very lately; and indeed
I know not what to say, nor do I care; and so you
are a saucy rogue for losing your money to-day at
Stoyte's; to let that bungler beat you! fie, Stella, are
not you ashamed? well, I forgive you this once,
never do so again; no, noo00. Kiss and be friends,
sirrah.- Come, let me go sleep. I go earlier to bed
than formerly; and have not been out so late these
two months; but the secretary was in a drinking
humour. So good night, myownlittledearsaucyin-
solentrogues.
19. Then you read that long word in the last line,
no faith, have not you. Well, when will this letter
come from our MD? to-morrow or next day with.
out fail; yes faith, and so it is coming. This s
an insipid snowy day, no walking day, and I dine
gravely with Mrs Vanhomrigh, and came home, and
am now got to bed a little after ten: I remember
old Culpepper's maxim :
Would you have a settled head. You must early go to bed:
I tell you, and I tell it again, You must be in bed at ten.
20. And so I went to-day with my new wig, o
hoao to visit Lady Worsley, whom I had not seen
before, although she was near a month in town.
Then I walked in the Park to find Mr. Ford, whom
I had promised to meet, and coming down the Mall,
who should come toward me but Patrick, and gives
me five letters out of his pocket. I read the super-
scription of the first, Pshoh, said I; of the second,
pshoh again; of the third, pshah, pshah, pshah;
of the fourth, a gad, a gad, a gad, I am in a rage; of
the fifth and last, O hoooa; ay marry, this is some-
thing, this is our MD; so truly we opened it, I think
immediately, and it began the most impudently in
the world, thus: Dear Presto, we are even thus
far. Now we are even, quoth Stephen, when he
gave his wife six blows for one.
I received your
ninth four days after I had sent my thirteenth.
But I will reckon with you anon about that, young
women. Why did you not recant at the end of
your letter when you got your eleventh? tell me
that, huzzies base, were we even then, were we,
sirrah? but I will not answer your letter now, 1
will keep it for another time. We had a great deal
of snow to-day, and it is terrible cold. I dined with
Ford, because it was his opera-day and snowed, so I
did not care to stir farther. I will send to-morrow
to Smyth.
21. Morning. It has snowed terribly all night,
and is vengeance cold. I am not yet up, but cannot
write long; my hands will freeze. Is there a good
fire, Patrick? Yes, sir. Then I will rise: come,
take away the candle.
You must know I write
on the dark side of my bed-chamber, and am forced
to have a candle till I rise, for the bed stands be-
tween me and the window, and I keep the curtains
shut this cold weather. So pray let me rise, and,
Patrick, here, take away the candle. At night. We
are now here in high frost and snow; the largest fire
can hardly keep us warm. It is very ugly walking ;
a baker's boy broke his thigh yesterday. I walk
slow, make short steps, and never tread on my
heel. It is a good proverb the Devonshire people
have:
Walk fast in snow,
In frost walk slow,
And still as you go.
Tread on your toe:
When frost and snow are both together,
Sit by the fire and spare shoe-leather.
I dined to-day with Dr. Cockburn, but will not do
so again in haste, he has generally such a parcel of
Scots with him.
22. Morning.-Starving, starving, utb, uth, uth,
uth, uth. Do not you remember I used to come
into your chamber, and turn Stella out of her chair,
and rake up the fire in a cold morning, and ery uth,
uth, uth? &c. O faith I must rise, my hand is so
cold I can write no more. So good morrow, sirrahs.
At night.—I went this morning to lady Giffard's
house, and saw your mother, and made her give me
a pint bottle of palsy-water, which I brought home
in my pocket, and sealed and tied up in a paper, and
sent it to Mr. Smyth, who goes to-morrow for Ire-
land, and sent a letter to him to desire his care of it,
and that he would inquire at Chester about the box.
He was not within, so the bottle and letter were
left for him at his lodgings, with strict orders to
give them to him; and I will send Patrick in a day
170
JOURNAL TO STELLA
23. Morning. They tell me it freezes again, but
it is not so cold as yesterday: so now I will answer
a bit of your letter. At night.-O faith I was just
going to answer some of our MD's letter this morn-
ing, when a printer came in about some business,
and stayed an hour; so I rose, and then came in
Ben Tooke, and then I shaved and scribbled, and it
was such a terrible day I could not stir out till one,
and then I called at Mrs. Barton's, and we went
to lady Worsley's, where we were to dine by ap-
pointment. The earl of Berkeley is going to be
married to lady Louisa Lennox, the duke of Rich-
mond's daughter. I writ this night to dean Sterne,
and bid him tell you all about the bottle of palsy-
water by Smyth, and to-morrow morning I will say
something to your letter.
Fie,
or two, to know whether it was given. &c. Dr. ever answer my 10th, or 9th, or any other number?
Stratford and I dined to-day with Mr. Stratford in or who desires you to answer, provided you write? I
the city by appointment; but I chose to walk there defy the d- to answer my letters: sometimes there
for exercise in the frost. But the weather had given may be one or two things I should be glad you
|
a little, as you women call it, so it was something would answer, but I forget them, and you never
slobbery. I did not get home till nine, and now I think of them. I shall never love answering letters
am in bed to break your head.
again, if you talk of answering. Answering, quotha;
pretty answerers truly. As for the pamphlet you
speak of, and call it scandalous, and that one Mr.
Presto is said to write it, hear my answer.
child, you must not mind what every idle body tells
you. I believe you lie, and that the dogs were not
crying it when you said so; come, tell truth. I
am sorry you go to St. Mary's so soon, you will be
as poor as rats; that place will drain you with a ven-
geance: besides, I would have you think of being
in the country in summer. Indeed, Stella, pippins
produced plentifully; Parvisol could not send from
Laracor: there were about half a score. I would be
glad to know whether they were good for anything.
Mrs. Wells at Donnybrook with you; why, is she
not brought to bed? Well, well, well, Dingley, pray
be satisfied! you talk as if you were angry about the
bishop's not offering you conveniences for the jour-
ney; and so he should. What sort of Christmas?
why, I have had no Christmas at all; and has it
really been Christmas of late? I never once thought
of it. My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine, and
let Catherine get the coffee ready against I come,
and not have so much care on her countenance; for
all will go well. Mr. Bernage, Mr. Bernage, Mr.
Fiddlenage, I have had three letters from him now
successively; he sends no directions, and how the
d- shall I write to him? I would have burnt his
last, if I had not seen Stella's hand at the bottom:
his request is all nonsense. How can I assist him
in buying? and if he be ordered to go to Spain, go
he must, or else sell; and I believe one can hardly
sell at such a juncture. If he had stayed, and new
regiments raised, I would have used my endeavour
to have had him removed, although I have no credit
that way, or very little but if the regiment goes, he
ought to go too; he has had great indulgence, and
opportunities of saving; and I have urged him to it
a hundred times. What can I do? Whenever it
lies in my power to do him a good office, 1 will do
it. Pray draw up this into a handsome speech, and
represent it to him from me, and that I would write,
if I knew where to direct to him; and so I have
told you, and desired you would tell him, fifty times.
Yes, madam Stella, I think I can read your long
concluding
concluding word, but you cannot read mine after
bidding you good night. And yet, methinks, I
mend extremely in my writing; but when Stella's
eyes are well, I hope to write as bad as ever.
now I have answered your letter, and mine is an an-
swer; for I lay yours before me, and I look and
write, and write and look, and look and write again.
So good morrow, madams both, and I will go rise,
for I must rise; for I take pills at night, and so I
must rise early, I do not know why.
24. Morning.-Come now to your letter. As for
your being even with me, I have spoken to that al-
ready. So now, my dearly beloved, let us proceed to
the next. You are always grumbling that you have
not letters fast enough, "surely we shall have your
10th ;" and yet before you end your letter, you own
you have my 11th. And why did not MD go into
the country with the bishop of Clogher? faith such
a journey would have done you good; Stella should
have rid, and Dingley gone in the coach. The bishop
of Kilmore I know nothing of; he is old and may
die he lives in some obscure corner, for I never
hear of him. As for my old friends, if you mean
the Whigs, I never see them, as you may find by my
journals, except lord Halifax, and him very seldom;
lord Somers never since the first visit, for he has
been a false, deceitful r*** 1. My new friends are
very kind, and I have promises enough, but I do
not count upon them; and besides, my pretences are
very young to them. However, we will see what
may be done, and if nothing at all, I shall not be
disappointed; although perhaps MD may, and then
I shall be sorrier for their sakes than my own. Talk
of a merry Christmas, (why did you write it so then,
write it so then,
young women? sauce for the goose is sauce for the
gander,) I have wished you all that two or three
letters ago. Good lack; and your news, that Mr.
St. John is going to Holland; he has no such
thoughts to quit the great station he is in, nor if he
had, could I be spared to go with him. So faith,
politic madam Stella, you come with your two eggs
a penny, &c. Well, madam Dingley, and so Mrs.
Stoyte invites you, and so you stay at Donnybrook,
and so you could not write. You are plaguy exact
in your journals from December 25th to January 4th.
Well, Smyth and the palsy-water I have handled al-
ready, and he does not lodge (or rather did not, for,
poor man, now he is gone) at Mr. Jesse's, and all
that stuff; but we found his lodging, and I went to
Stella's mother on my own head, for I never remem-
bered it was in the letter to desire another bottle;
but I was so fretted, so tosticated, and so impatient,
that Stella should have her water, (I mean decently,
don't be rogues,) and so vexed with Sterne's care-
lessness. Pray God Stella's illness may not return.
If they come seldom, they begin to be weary; I
judge by myself; for when I seldom visit, I grow
weary of my acquaintance. Leave a good deal of
my 10th unanswered-Impudent slut! when did you
• Swift had a great dislike to Somers.
|
So
25. Morning.-I did not tell you how I passed
my time yesterday, nor bid you good night, and
there was good reason. I went in the morning to
secretary St. John about some business; he had got
a great Whig with him, a creature of the duke of
Marlborough, who is a go-between to make peace
between the duke and the ministry; so he came
out of his closet, and after a few words desired I
would dine with him at three, but Mr. Lewis stayed
till six before he came; and there we sat talking,
and the time slipped so, that at last, when I was
It was said that the duke would have taken office under
queen Anne's new ministry.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
171
positive to go, it was past two o'clock; so I came
home and went straight to bed. He would never
let me look at his watch, and I could not imagine it
above twelve when we went away.
So I bid you
good night for last night, and now I bid you good
morrow, and I am still in bed, though it be near ten,
but I must rise.
26, 27, 28, 29, 30. I have been so lazy and neg-
ligent these last four days, that I could not write to
MD. My head is not in order, and yet it is not ab-
I
solutely ill, but giddyish, and makes me listless.
walk every day, and take drops of Dr. Cockburn, and
I have just done a box of pills, and to-day lady Kerry
sent me some of her bitter drink, which I design to
take twice a-day, and hope I shall grow better. I
wish I were with MD; I long for spring and good
weather, and then I will come over. My riding in
Ireland keeps me well. I am very temperate, and
eat of the easiest meats, as I am directed, and hope
the malignity will go off; but one fit shakes me a
long time. I dined to-day with lord Mountjoy, yes-
terday at Mr. Stone's in the city, on Sunday at Van-
homrigh's, Saturday with Ford, and Friday I think
at Vanhomrigh's, and that is all the journal I can
send MD;
for I was so lazy while I was well, that I
could not write. I thought to have sent this to-
night, but it is ten, and I will go to-bed, and write
on the other side to Parvisol to-morrow, and send
it on Thursday; and so good night, my dears, and
love Presto, and be healthy, and Presto will be so
too, &c.
Cut off these notes handsomely, do you hear,
sirrahs? and give Mrs. Brent hers, and keep yours
till you see Parvisol, and then make up the letter to
him, and send it him by the first opportunity; and so
God Almighty bless you both, here and ever, and
poor Presto.
What, I warrant you thought at first that these last
lines were another letter.
Dingley, Pray pay Stella six fishes, and place them
to the account of your humble servant,
Presto.
Stella, Pray pay Dingley six fishes, and place them
to the account of your humble servant,
Presto.
There's bills of exchange for you.
LETTER THE FIFTEENTH.
London, Jan. 31, 1710-11.
I AM to send you my 14th to-morrow, but my head
having some little disorder, confounds all my jour-
nals. I was early this morning with Mr. Secretary
St. John, about some business, so I could not scribble
my morning lines to MD. They are here intending
to tax all little printed penny papers a halfpenny
every half-sheet, which will utterly ruin Grub-street,
and I am endeavouring to prevent it. Besides, I
was forwarding an impeachment against a certain
great person: that was two of my businesses with the
secretary-were they not worthy ones? It was Ford's
birthday, and I refused the secretary, and dined with
Ford. We are here in as smart a frost for the time
as I have seen; delicate walking weather, and the
Canal and Rosamond's Pond full of the rabble slid-
ing, and with skates, if you know what those are.
Patrick's bird's water freezes in the gallipot, and my
hands in bed.
February 1. I was this morning with poor lady
Kerry, who is much worse in her head than I. She
sends me bottles of her bitter, and we are so fond of
one another, because our ailments are the same; do
not you know that, madam Stell? have not I scen
you conning ailments with Joe's wife [Mrs. Beau-
mont], and some others, sirrah? I walked into the
city to dine, because of the walk; for we must take
care of Presto's health, you know, because of poor
little MD. But I walked plaguy carefully, for fear of
sliding against my will; and I am very busy.
2. This morning Mr. Ford came to me to walk
into the city, where he had business, and then to buy
books at Bateman's; and I laid out one pound five
shillings for a Strabo and Aristophanes, and I have
now got books enough to make me another shelf,
and I will have more, or it shall cost me a fall; and
so as we came back we drank a flask of right French
wine at Ben Tooke's chamber; and when I got
home Mrs. Vanhomrigh sent me word her eldest
daughter was taken suddenly very ill, and desired I
would come and see her. I went, and found it was
a silly trick of Mrs. Armstrong, lady Lucy's sister,
who, with Moll Stanhope, was visiting there : how-
ever, I rattled off the daughter.
3. To-day I went and dined at lady Lucy's, where
you know I have not been this long time they are
plaguy whigs, especially the sister Armstrong, the
most insupportable of all women pretending to wit,
without any taste. She was running down the last
Examiner, the prettiest I had read, with a character
of the present ministry. I left them at five, and
came home. But I forgot to tell you, that this
morning my cousin Dryden Leach, the printer, came
to me with a heavy complaint, that Harrison, the
new Tatler, had turned him off, and taken the last
Tatler's printers again. He vowed revenge. I an-
swered gravely, and so he left me, and I have ordered
Patrick to deny me to him from henceforth: and at
night comes a letter from Harrison, telling me the
same thing, and excused his doing it without my
notice, because he would bear all the blame; and
in his Tatler of this day he tells you the story, how
he has taken his old officers; and there is a most
humble letter from Morphew and Lilly, to beg his
pardon, &c. And lastly, this morning Ford sent me
two letters from the coffeehouse, (where I hardly
ever go), one from the archbishop of Dublin, and
the other from
Who do you think the other
was from?
I will tell you, because you are
friends; why then it was, faith it was from my own
dear little MD, No. 10. O, but will not answer it
now, no, noooooh, I will keep it between the two
sheets; here it is, just under: O, I lifted up the
sheets and saw it there: lie still, you shall not be
answered yet, little letter; for I must go to bed, and
take care of my head.
4. I avoid going to church yet, for fear of my
head, though it has been much better these last five
or six days, since I have taken lady Kerry's bitter.
Our frost holds like a dragon. I went to Mr. Addi-
son's, and dined with him at his lodgings; I had not
seen him these three weeks; we are grown common
acquaintance: yet what have not I done for his friend
Steele Mr. Harley reproached me the last time I saw
him, that to please me, he would be reconciled to
Steele, and had promised and appointed to see him,
and that Steele never came. Harrison, whom Mr.
Addison recommended to me, I have introduced to
the secretary of state, who has promised me to take
care of him; and I have represented Addison him-
self so to the ministry, that they think and talk in
his favour, though they hated him before.-Well; he
is now in my debt, and there is an end; and I never
had the least obligation to him, and there is another
end. This evening I had a message from Mr. Harley,
desiring to know whether I was alive, and that I
would dine with him to-morrow. They dine so late,
that since my head has been wrong I have avoided
being with them. Patrick has been out of favour
172
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
these ten days; I talk dry and cross to him, and
have called him friend three or four times. But,
sirrahs, get you gone.
5. Morning.-I am going this morning to see
Prior, who dines with me at Mr. Harley's; so I
cannot stay fiddling and talking with dear little brats
in a morning, and it is still terribly cold. I wish my
cold hand was in the warmest place about you,
young women, I would give ten guineas upon that
account with all my heart, faith; oh, it starves my
thigh; so I will rise, and bid you good morrow.
Come, stand away, let me rise: Patrick take away
the candle. Is there a good fire -So-up adazy.
At night.-Mr. Harley did not sit down till six, and
I staid till eleven; henceforth, I will choose to visit
him in the evening, and dine with him no more if
I can help it. It breaks all my measures, and hurts
my health; my head is disorderly, but not ill, and
I hope it will mend.
6. Here has been such a hurry with the queen's
birthday, so much fine clothes, and the court so
crowded, that I did not go there. All the frost is
gone. It thawed on Sunday, and so continues, yet
ice is still on the canal, (I did not mean that of
Laracor, but St. James's Park,) and boys sliding on
it. Mr. Ford pressed me to dine with him in his
chamber. Did not I tell you Patrick has got a bird,
a linnet, to carry over to Dingley? It was very tame
at first, and it is now the wildest I ever saw. He
keeps it in a closet, where it makes a terrible litter ;
but I say nothing: I am as tame as a clout. When
must we answer our MD's letter? one of these odd-
come-shortlies. This is a week old, you see, and
no farther yet. Mr. Harley desired I would dine
with him again to-day; but I refused him, for I fell
out with him yesterday, and will not see him again
till he makes me amends; and so I
go to bed.
7. I was this morning early with Mr. Lewis of
the secretary's office, and saw a letter Mr. Harley
had sent to him desiring to be reconciled; but I was
deaf to all entreaties, and have desired Lewis to go
to him, and let him know I expect farther satisfac-
tion. If we let these great ministers pretend too much,
there will be no governing them. He promises to
make me easy, if I will but come and see him; but
I will not, and he shall do it by message, or I will
cast him off. I will tell you the cause of our quarrel
when I see you, and refer it to yourselves. In that he
did something, which he intended for a favour, and
I have taken it quite otherwise, disliking both the
thing and the manner, and it has heartily vexed me,
and all I have said is truth, though it looks like jest:
and I absolutely refuse to submit to his intended
favour, and expect farther satisfaction. Mr. Ford
and I dine with Mr. Lewis. We have a monstrous
deal of snow, and it cost me two shillings to-day in
chair and coach, and walked till I was dirty besides.
I know not what it is now to read or write after I
am in bed. The last thing I do up is to write some-
thing to our MD, and then get into bed, and put
out my candle, and so go sleep as fast as ever I
can. But in the mornings I do write sometimes in
bed, as you know.
8. Morning.-"I have desired Apronia to be
always careful, especially about the legs." Pray, do
you see any such great wit in that sentence? I must
freely own that I do not. But party carries everything
now-a-days, and what a splutter have I heard about
the wit of that saying, repeated with admiration
about a hundred times in half an hour. Pray read
it over again this moment, and consider it. I think
the word is advised, and not desired. I should not
This alludes to an offer of fifty pounds from Harley, which
he indignaut'y rejected.
have remembered it if I had not heard it so often.
Why-ay-You must know I dreamed it just now,
and waked with it in my mouth. Are you bit, or
are you not, sirrahs a I met Mr. Harley in the
court of requests, and he asked me how long I had
learnt the trick of writing to myself. He had scen
your letter through the glass case, at the coffeehouse,
and would swear it was my hand; and Mr. Ford,
who took and sent it me, was of the same mind.
I remember others have formerly said so too. I
think I was little MD's writing-master. But corne,
what is here to do, writing to young women in a
morning? I have other fish to fry; so good morrow,
my ladies all, good morrow. Perhaps I will answer
your letter to-night, perhaps I will not; that is, as
saucy little Presto takes the humour. At night.—
I walked in the Park to-day, in spite of the weather,
as I do always, when it does not actually rain. Do
you know what it has gone and done? We had a thaw
for three days, then a monstrous dirt and snow, and
now it freezes, like a potlid upon our snow. I dined
with lady Betty Germain, the first time since I came
for England; and there did I sit, like a booby, till
eight, looking over her and another lady at picquet,
when I had other business enough to do. It was
the coldest day I felt this year.
O,
I
9. Morning.-After I had been a-bed an hour
last night, I was forced to rise and call to the land-
lady and maid to have the fire removed in a chimney
below stairs, which made my bedchamber smoke,
though I had no fire in it. I have been twice served
so. I never lay so miserable an hour in my life. Is
it not plaguy vexatious? It has snowed all night,
and rains this morning. Come, where is MD's
letter? Come, Mrs. Letter, make your appearance.
Here am I, says she, answer me to my face.
faith, I am sorry you had my twelfth so soon;
doubt you will stay longer for the rest. I am so
afraid you have got my fourteenth while I am writing
this, and I would always have one letter from Presto
reading, one travelling, and one writing. As for the
box, I now believe it lost. It is directed for Mr.
I had a
Curry, at his house in Capel-street, &c.
letter yesterday from Dr. Raymond in Chester, who
says, he sent his man everywhere, and cannot find
it; and God knows whether Mr. Smyth will have
better success. Sterne spoke to him, and I writ to
him with the bottle of palsy water; that bottle, I
hope, will not miscarry: I long to hear you have it.
O, faith, you have too good an opinion of Presto's
care. I am negligent enough of everything but MD,
But it shall
and I should not have trusted Sterne.
not go so I will have one more tug for it.
As to
what you say of Goodman Peasley and Isaac, I an-
swer as I did before. Fie, child! you must not give
yourself the way to believe any such thing; and
afterward, only for curiosity, you may tell me how
those things are approved, and how you like them;
and whether they instruct you in the present course
of affairs, and whether they are printed in your
town, or only sent from hence. Sir Andrew Foun-
taine is recovered; so take your sorrow again, but
do not keep it; fling it to the dogs. And does little
MD walk, indeed? I am glad of it at heart. Yes,
we have done with the plague here: it was very
saucy in you to pretend to have it before your bet-
Your intelligence that the story is false about
the officers forced to sell is admirable.
You may
see them all three every day, no more in the army
than you.
Twelve shillings for mending the strong
box; that is, for putting a farthing's worth of iron
on a hinge, and gilding it; give him six shillings.
and I will pay it, and never employ him again. N
ters.
The bite is here
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
173
{
you
-indeed, I put off preaching as much as I can.
I
am upon another foot: nobody doubts here whether
I can preach, and you are fools. The account you
give of that weekly paper [the Examiner] agrees
with us here. Mr. Prior was like to be insulted in
the street for being supposed the author of it, but
one of the last papers cleared him. Nobody knows
who it is, but the few in the secret. I suppose the
ministry and the printer. Poor Stella's eyes, God
bless them, and send them better. Pray spare them,
and write not above two lines a-day in broad day-
light. How does Stella look, madam Dingley ?
Pretty well; a handsome young woman still. Will
she pass in a crowd? Will she make a figure in a
I this
country church? Stay a little, fair ladies.
minute sent Patrick to Sterne: he brings back word
that your box is very safe with one Mr. Earl's sister,
in Chester; and that colonel Edgworth's sister goes
for Ireland on Monday next, and will receive the
box at Chester, and deliver it to you safe; so there
Well, let us go on to your
is some hopes now.
letter. The warrant is passed for the first-fruits.
The queen does not send a letter, but a patent will
be drawn here, and that will take up time. Mr.
Harley, of late, has said nothing of presenting me
to the queen; I was overseen when I mentioned it
to you.
He has such a weight of affairs on him
that he cannot mind all; but he talked of it three
or four times to me, long before I dropped it to
What! is not Mrs. Walls' business over yet?
I had hopes she was up, and well, and the child
dead before this time. You did right, at last, to
send me your accounts; but I did not stay for them,
I thank you. I hope you have your bill sent in my
last, and there will be eight pounds interest soon
due from Hawkshaw; pray look at his bond. I hope
you are good managers, and that, when I say so,
Stella will not think I intend she should grudge
herself wine. But going to those expensive lodgings
requires some fund. I wish you had stayed till I
came over, for some reasons. That Frenchwoman
[MD's landlady] will be grumbling again in a little
time; and, if you are invited anywhere to the coun-
try, it will vex you to pay in absence; and the
country may be necessary for poor Stella's health;
but do as you like, and do not blame Presto.
but you are telling your reasons. Well, I have read
them; do as you please. Yes, Raymond says he
must stay longer than he thought, because he can-
not settle his affairs. M— is in the country at some
friend's, comes to town in spring, and then goes to
settle in Herefordshire. Her husband is a surly ill-
natured brute, and cares not she should see anybody.
O Lord, see how I blundered, and left two lines
short; it was that ugly score in the paper that made
me mistake.-I believe you lie about the story of
the fire, only to make it more odd. Bernage must
go to Spain, and I will see to recommend him to the
duke of Argyle, his general, when I see the duke
next; but the officers tell me it would be dishonour-
able in the last degree for him to sell now, and he
would never be preferred in the army; so that, un-
less he designs to leave it for good and all, he must
go. Tell him so, and that I would write if I knew
where to direct to him; which I have said fourscore
times already. I had rather anything almost than
that you should strain yourselves to send a letter
when it is inconvenient; we have settled that matter
already. I will write when I can, and so shall MD;
and, upon occasions extraordinary, I will write,
though it be a line; and when we have not letters
soon, we agree that all things are well; and so that
a The queen's objections to Swift, as the author of the TALE
OF A TUB, were found invincible.
O,
is settled for ever, and so hold your tongue. Well,
you shall have your pins; but, for the candle. ends,
I cannot promise, because I burn them to the
stumps; besides, I remember what Stella told
Dingley about them many years ago, and she may
think the same thing of me. And Dingley shall
have her hinged spectacles. Poor dear Stella, how
durst you write those two lines by candle-light,
bang your bones? Faith, this letter shall go to-
morrow, I think, and that will be in ten days from
the last, young women; that is too soon, of all con-
science; but answering yours has filled it up so
quick, and I do not design to use you to three pages
in folio, no nooooh. All this is one morning's work
in bed and so good morrow, little sirrahs, that is
for the rhyme. You want politics: faith, I cannot
think of any, but may be at night I may tell you a
passage. Come, sit off the bed, and let me rise,
will you? At night.
At night. I dined to-day with my
neighbour Vanhomrigh; it was such dismal wea-
I have had some
ther, I could not stir farther.
threatenings with my head, but no fits; I still drink
Dr. Radcliffe's bitter, and will continue it.
10. I was this morning to see the secretary of
state, and have engaged him to give a memorial
from me to the duke of Argyle, in behalf of Bernage.
The duke is a man that distinguishes people of
merit, and I will speak to him myself; but the se-
cretary backing it will be very effectual, and I will
take care to have it done to purpose. Pray tell
Bernage so, and that I think nothing can be luckier
for him, and that I would have him go by all means.
I will order it that the duke shall send for him when
they are in Spain; or, if he fails, that he shall re-
ceive him kindly when he goes to wait on him.
Can I do more? Is not this a great deal? I now
Can I do more?
send away this letter that you may not stay. I dined
with Ford upon his opera-day, and am now come
home, and am going to study; do not you pretend
to guess, sirrabs, impudent saucy dear boxes.
ward the end of a letter I could not say saucy boxes
without putting dear between. En't that right now?
Farewell. This should be longer, but that I send it
to-night.
O silly, silly loggerhead!
To-
I sent a letter this post to one Mr. Staunton, and
I direct it to Mr. Acton's, in St. Michael's lane.
He formerly lodged there, but he has not told me
where to direct. Pray send to that Acton, whether
the letter is come there, and whether he has sent it
to Staunton.
If Bernage designs to sell his commission and stay
at home, pray let him tell me so, that my recom-
mendation to the duke of Argyle may not be in vain.
LETTER THE SIXTEENTH.
London, Feb. 10, 1710-11.
I HAVE just dispatched my 15th to the post: I tell
you how things will be, after I have got a letter from
MD. I am in a furious haste to finish mine, for
fear of having two of MD's to answer in one of
Presto's, which would be such a disgrace, never saw
the like; but before you write to me I write at my
leisure, like a gentleman, a little every day, just to
let you know how matters go, and so, and so; and
I hope before this comes to you, you will have got
your box and chocolate, and Presto will take more
care another time.
11. Morning.-I must rise and go see my lord
keeper, which will cost me two shillings in coach-
hire. Do not call them two thirteens. At night.-
A shilling passes for thirteen pence in Ireland,
.74
JOURNAL. TO STELLA.
It has rained all day, and there was no walking. I
read prayers to sir Andrew Fountaine in the after-
noon, and I dined with three Irishmen at one Mr.
Cope's a lodgings; the other two were one Morris,
an archdeacon, and Mr. Ford. When I came home
this evening, I expected that little jackanapes Har-
rison would have come to get help about his Tatler
for Tuesday: I have fixed two evenings in the week
which I allow him to come. The toad never came,
and I expecting him fell a reading, and left off other
business. Come, what are you doing? how do you
pass your time this ugly weather? Gaming and
drinking, I suppose : fine diversions for young ladies,
truly. I wish you had some of our Seville oranges,
and we some of your wine. We have the finest
oranges for two-pence a piece, and the basest wine
for six shillings a bottle. They tell me wine
grows
cheap with you. I am resolved to have half a hogs-
head when I get to Ireland, if it be good and cheap,
as it used to be; and I will treat MD at my table in
an evening, oh hoa, and laugh at great ministers of
state.
be
12. The days are grown fine and long,
thanked. O faith, you forget all our little sayings, and
I am angry. I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary St.
John: I went to the Court of Requests at noon, and
ent Mr. Harley into the house to call the secretary,
to let him know I would not dine with him if he
dined late. By good luck the duke of Argyle was
at the lobby of the house too, and I kept him in
talk till the secretary came out, then told them I
was glad to meet them together, and that I had a
request to the duke, which the secretary must second,
and his grace must grant. The duke said, he was
sure it was something insignificant, and wished it
was ten times greater. At the secretary's house I
writ a memorial, and gave it to the secretary to give
the duke, and shall see that he does it. It is, that
his grace will please to take Mr. Bernage into his
protection; and if he finds Bernage answers my
character, to give him all encouragement. Colonel
Masham and colonel Hill (Mrs. Masham's brother)
tell me my request is reasonable, and they will
second it heartily to the duke too: so I reckon Ber-
nage is on a very good foot when he goes to Spain.
Pray tell him this, though perhaps I will write to
him before he goes; yet where shall I direct? for I
suppose he has left Conolly's.
13. I have left off lady Kerry's bitter, and got
another box of pills. I have no fits of giddiness,
but only some little disorders toward it; and I walk
as much as I can. Lady Kerry is just as I am, only
a great deal worse: I dined to-day at lord Shel-
burn's, where she is, and we con ailments, which
I have taken
makes us very fond of each other.
Mr. Harley into favour again, and called to see him,
but he was not within: I will use to visit him after
dinner, for he dines too late for my head: then I
went to visit poor Congreve, who is just getting out
of a severe fit of the gout, and I sat with him till
near nine o'clock. He gave me a Tatler he had
written out, as blind as he is, for little Harrison. It
is about a scoundrel that was grown rich, and went
and bought a coat of arms at the Herald's, and a set
of ancestors at Fleet-ditch: it is well enough, and
shall be printed in two or three days, and if you
read those kind of things, this will divert you.
It
is now between ten and eleven, and I am going
to bed.
14. This was Mrs. Vanhomrigh's daughter's birth-
day, and Mr. Ford and I were invited to dinner to
keep it, and we spent the evening there drinking
a Robert Cope, esq., a gentleman of learning, and corre-
grordent of Swift's
punch. That was our way of beginning Lent; and
in the morning, lord Shelburn, lady Kerry, Mrs.
Pratt, and I, went to Hyde Park, instead of going to
church; for till my head is a little settled, I think it
better not to go; it would be so silly and trouble-
some to go out sick. Dr. Duke died suddenly two
or three nights ago: he was one of the wits when
we were children, but turned parson, and left it,
and never writ further than a prologue or recom-
mendatory copy of verses. He had a fine living
given him by the bishop of Winchester about three
months ago he got his living suddenly, and he got
his dying so too.
15. I walked purely to-day about the Park, the
rain being just over, of which we have had a
great deal, mixed with little short frosts. I went to
the Court of Requests, thinking if Mr. Harley dined
early to go with him. But meeting Leigh and
Sterne, they invited me to dine with them, and away
we went. When we got into his room, one H—, a
worthless Irish fellow, was there ready to dine with
us; so I stepped out and whispered them, " that I
would not dine with that fellow." They made ex-
cuses, and begged me to stay, but away I went to
Mr. Harley's, and he did not dine at home, and at
last I dined at sir John Germain's, and found lady
Betty but just recovered of a miscarriage. I am
writing an inscription for lord Berkeley's tomb:
you know the young rake his son, the new earl, is
married to the duke of Richmond's daughter, at the
duke's country house, and are now coming to town.
She will be fluxed in two months, and they will be
parted in a year. You ladies are brave, bold, ven-
turesome folks; and the chit is but seventeen, and
is ill-natured, covetous, vicious, and proud in ex-
And so get you gone to Stoyte to-morrow.
16. Faith this letter goes on but slow: it is a
week old, and the first side not written. I went to-
day into the city for a walk, but the person I de-
signed to dine with was not at home: so I came
back and called at Congreve's, and dined with him.
and Estcourt, and laughed till six, then went to
Mr. Harley's, who was not gone to dinner; there I
stayed till nine, and we made up our quarrel, and he
has invited me to dinner to-morrow, which is the
day of the week (Saturday) that lord keeper and
secretary St. John dine with him privately; and at
last they have consented to let me among them on
that day. Atterbury and Prior went to bury poor
Dr. Duke. Congreve's nasty white wine has given
tremes.
me the heartburn.
17. I took some good walks in the Park to-day,
and then went to Mr. Harley. Lord Rivers was got
there before me, and I chid him for presuming to
come on a day when only lord keeper, the secretary,
and I were to be there; but he regarded me not;
so we all dined together, and sat down at four; and
the secretary has invited me to dine with him to-
morrow. I told them I had no hopes they could
ever keep in, but that I saw they loved one another
so well, as indeed they seem to do. They call me
nothing but Jonathan; and I said, I believed they
would leave me Jonathan as they found me, and
that I never knew a ministry do anything for those
whom they make companions of their pleasures;
and I believe you will find it so; but I care not.
am upon a project of getting five hundred pounds,
without being obliged to anybody; but that is a
sccret, till I see my dearest MD; and so hold your
tongue, and do not talk, sirrahıs, for I am now
about it.
I
18. My head has no fits, but a little disordered
• Mr. Richard Estcourt, a player and dramatic writer, cele
brated in THE SPECTATOR, and other works of the time
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
175
1
F
I
before dinner; yet I walk stoutly, and take pills,
and hope to mend. Secretary St. John would needs
have me dine with him to-day, and there I found
three persons I never saw; two I had no acquaint-
ance with, and one I did not care for: so I left
them early, and came home, it being no day to walk,
but scurvy rain and wind. The secretary tells me
he has put a cheat on me; for lord Peterborow sent
him twelve dozen flasks of Burgundy, on condition
that I should have my share; but he never was
quiet till they were all gone; so I reckon he owes
me thirty-six pounds. Lord Peterborow is now got
to Vienna, and I must write to him to-morrow.
begin now to be toward looking for a letter from
some certain ladies of Presto's acquaintance, that
lived at St. Mary's, and are called, in a certain lan-
guage, our little MD. No, stay, I do not expect
one these six days, that will be just three weeks;
a'nt I a reasonable creature? We are plagued here
with an October Club; that is, a set of above a hun-
dred parliament-men of the country, who drink Oc-
tober beer at home, and meet every evening at
a tavern near the parliament, to consult affairs and
drive things on to extremes against the Whigs, to
call the old ministry to account, and get off five or
six heads. The ministry seem not to regard them;
yet one of them in confidence told me, that there
must be something thought on to settle things better.
I will tell you one great state secret; the queen,
sensible how much she was governed by the late
ministry, runs a little into the other extreme, and is
jealous in that point even of those who got her out
of the other's hands. The ministry is for gentler
measures, and the other Tories for more violent.
Lord Rivers, talking to me the other day, cursed the
paper called the Examiner, for speaking civilly of
the duke of Marlborough: this I happened to
talk of to the secretary, who blamed the warmth of
that lord, and some others, and swore that if their
advice were followed, they would be blown up in
twenty-four hours. And I have reason to think
that they will endeavour to prevail on the queen to
put her affairs more into the hands of a ministry
than she does at present; and there are, I believe,
two men thought on, one of them you have often
met the name of in my letter. But so much for
politics.
19. This proved a terrible rainy day, which pre-
vented my walk into the city, and I was only able
to run and dine with my neighbour Vanhomrigh,
where sir Andrew Fountaine dined too, who has
just began to sally out, and has shipped his mother |
and sister, who were his nurses, back to the country.
This evening was fair, and I walked a little in the
Park till Prior made me go with him to the Smyrna
Coffeehouse, where I sat a while, and saw four or
five Irish persons, who are very handsome, genteel
fellows, but I know not their names. I came away
at seven, and got home. Two days ago I writ to
Bernage, and told him what I had done, and directed
the letter to Mr. Curry's to be left with Dingley.
Brigadiers Hill and Masham, brother and husband
to Mrs. Masham, the queen's favourite, colonel
Disney, and I, have recommended Bernage to the
duke of Argyle; and secretary St. John has given
the duke my memorial; and, besides, Hill tells me
that Bernage's colonel, Fielding, designs to make
him his captain-lieutenant; but I believe I said
this to you before, and in this letter, but I will not
look.
20. Morning. It snows terribly again, and it is
mistaken, for I now want a little good weather: I
bid you good morrow, and, if it clear up, get you
gone to poor Mrs Walls who has had a hard time of
|
it, but is now pretty well again. I am sorry it is a
girl: the poor archdeacon too, see how simply he
looked when they told him! what did it cost Stella
to be gossip? I will rise; so, do you hear? let me
see you at night, and do not stay late out, and catch
cold, sirrahs. At night.-It grew good weather,
and I got a good walk, and dined with Ford upon
his opera-day but now all his wine is gone, I shall
dine with him no more. I hope to send this letter
before I hear from MD: methinks there is-some-
thing great in doing so, only I cannot express where
it lies; and faith this shall go by Saturday, as sure
as you are a rogue. Mrs. Edgeworth was to set
out but last Monday, so you will not have your box
so soon perhaps as this letter; but Sterne told me
since that it is safer at Chester, and that she will take
care of it. I would give a guinea you had it.
I
21. Morning.-Faith I hope it will be fair for me
to walk into the city, for I take all occasions of
walking. I should be plaguy busy at Laracor if I
were there now, cutting down willows, planting
others, scouring my canal, and every kind of thing.
If Raymond goes over this summer, you must sub-
mit, and make them a visit, that we may have another
eel and trout fishing; and that Stella may ride by
and see Presto in his morning-gown in the garden,
and so go up with Joe to the Hill of Bree, and
round by Scurlock's Town. O Lord, how I remem-
ber names! faith it gives me short sighs: therefore
no more of that if you love me. Good morrow,
will go rise like a gentleman, my pills say I must.
At night.-Lady Kerry sent to desire me to engage
some lords about an affair she has in their house. I
called to see her, but found she had already engaged
every lord I knew, and that there was no great diffi-
culty in the matter, and it rained like a dog; so I
took coach, for want of better exercise, and dined
privately with a hang-dog in the city, and walked
back in the evening. The days are now long enough
to walk in the Park after dinner; and so I do when-
ever it is fair. This walking is a strange remedy;
Mr. Prior walks to make himself fat,ª and I to bring
myself down; he has generally a cough, which he
only calls a cold; we often walk round the Park
together. So I will go sleep.
I
22. It snowed all this morning prodigiously, and
was some inches thick in three or four hours.
dined with Mr. Lewis of the secretary's office at his
lodgings: the chairmen that carried me squeezed a
great fellow against a wall, who wisely turned his
back, and broke one of the side glasses in a thousand
piece. I fell a scolding, pretended I was like to be
cut in pieces, and made them set down the chair in
the Park, while they picked out the bits of glasses:
and when I paid them, I quarrelled still, so they
dared not grumble, and I came off for my fare: but
I was plaguy afraid they would have said, “God
bless your honour, will not you give us something
for our glass?" Lewis and I were forming a project
how I might get three or four hundred pounds,
which I suppose may come to nothing. I hope
Smyth has brought you your palsy-drops; how does
Stella do? I begiù more and more to desire to
know. The three weeks since I had your last is
over within two days, and I will allow three for
accidents.
23. The snow is gone every bit, except the re-
mainder of some great balls made by the boys. Mr.
Sterne was with me this morning about an affair he
has before the treasury. That drab Mrs. Edgeworth
is not yet set out, but will infallibly next Monday,
and this is the third infallible Monday, and pox take
A Prior, as Swift elsewhere mentions, was a slight thin
figure.
176
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
her! So you will have this letter first; and this
shall go to-morrow; and if I have one from MD in
that time, I will not answer it till my next; only I
will say, Madam, I received your letter, aud so and so.
I dined to-day with my Mrs. Butler, who grows
very disagreeable.
I
24. Morning. This letter certainly goes this
evening, sure as you are alive, young women, and
then you will be so ashamed that I have none from
you; and if I was to reckon like you, I would say,
were six letters before you, for this is No. 16, and I
have had your No. 10. But I reckon you have re-
ceived but fourteen and have sent eleven. I think
to go to-day a minister of state hunting in the Court
of Requests; for I have something to say to Mr.
Harley. And it is fine cold sunshiny weather. I
wish dear MD would walk this morning in your
Stephen's Green; it is as good as our Park, but not
so large. Faith this summer we will take a coach
for sixpence to the Green Well, the two walks, and
thence all the way to Stoyte's. My hearty service
to Goody Stoyte and Catherine, and I hope Mrs.
Walls had a good time. How inconsistent I am!
I cannot imagine I was ever in love with her. Well,
I am going; what have you to say? I do not care
how I write now. I do not design to write on this
side; these few lines are but so much more than
your due; so I will write large or small as I please.
O faith, my hands are starving in bed; I believe it
is a hard frost. I must rise, and bid you good bye,
for I will seal this letter immediately, and carry it in
my pocket, and put it into the post-office with my
own fair hands. Farewell.
This letter is just a fortnight's journal to-day.
Yes, and so it is, I am sure, says you, with your two
eggs a penny.
Lele, lele, lele-There, there, there.
O Lord, I am saying there, there, to myself in
all our little keys and now you talk of keys, that
dog Patrick broke the key-general of the chest of
drawers with six locks, and I have been so plagued
to get a new one, beside my good two shillings.
LETTER THE SEVENTEENTH.
London, Feb. 24, 1710-11.
Now, young women, I gave in my 16th this evening.
I dined with Ford, it was his opera day as usual; it
is very convenient to me to do so, for coming home
early after a walk in the Park, which now the days
will allow. I called on the secretary at his office,
and he had forgot to give the memorial about Ber-
nage to the duke of Argyle; but two days ago I
met the duke, who desired I would give it him my-
self, which should have more power with him than
all the ministry together, as he protested solemnly,
repeated it two or three times, and bid me count
upon it.
So that I verily believe Bernage will be
in a very good way to establish himself. I think I
can do no more for him at present, and there is an
end of that; and so get you gone to bed, for it is late.
25. The three weeks are out yesterday since I had
your last, and so now I will be expecting every day
a pretty dear letter from my own MD, and hope to
hear that Stella has been much better in her head
and eyes; my head continues as it was; no fits, but
a little disorder every day, which I can easily bear,
if it will not grow worse. I dined to-day with Mr.
Secretary St. John, on condition I might choose my
company, which were lord Rivers, lord Carteret, sir
Thomas Mansel, and Mr. Lewis. I invited Masham,
Hill, sir John Stanley, and George Granville, but
they were engaged; and I did it in revenge of his
having such bad company when I dined with him
before; so we laughed, &c. And I ventured to go
to church to-day, which I have not done this month
before. Can you send me such a good account of
Stella's health, pray now? Yes, I hope, and better
too. We dined (says you) at the dean's, and play-
ed at cards till twelve, and there came in Mr.
French, and Dr. Travors, and Dr. Whittingham,
and Mr. (I forgot his name, that I always tell Mrs.
Walls of) the banker's son-a pox on him! And we
were so merry; I vow they are pure good company.
But I lost a crown; for you must know I had always
hands tempting me to go out, but never took in any-
thing, and often two black aces without a manilio.
Was not that hard, Presto? hold your tongue, &c.
26. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary about
some business, and he tells me that colonel Fielding
is now going to make Bernage his captain-lieutenant,
-that is, a captain by commission, and the perqui-
sites of the company, but not captain's pay, only
the first step to it. I suppose he will like it, and the
recommendation to the duke of Argyle goes on.
And so trouble me no more about your Bernage;
the jackanapes understands what fair solicitors he
has got, I warrant you. Sir Andrew Fountaine and
I dined by invitation with Mrs. Vanhomrigh. You
say they are of no consequence; why, they keep as
good female company as I do male: I see all the
drabs of quality at this end of the town with them;
I saw two lady Bettys there this afternoon. The
beauty of one, the good breeding and nature of the
other, and the wit of either, would have made a fine
woman. Rare walking in the Park now; why do
not you walk in the Green of St. Stephen; the walks
there are finer gravelled than the Mall. What
beasts the Irish women are, never to walk!
27. Dartineuf and I, and little Harrison the new
Tatler, and Jervas the painter, dined to-day with
James-I know not his other name, but it is one of
Dartineuf's
Dartineuf's dining places, who is a true epicure.
James is clerk of the kitchen to the queen, and has
a little snug house at St. James's, and we had the
queen's wine, and such very fine victuals, that I
could not eat it. Three weeks and three days since
my last letter from MD, rare doings! why truly we
were so busy with poor Mrs. Walls, that, indeed,
Presto, we could not write; we were afraid the
poor woman would have died, and it pitied us to see
the archdeacon, how concerned he was. The dean
never came to see her but once; but now she is up
again, and we go and sit with her in the evenings.
The child died the next day after it was born, and I
believe, between friends, she is not very sorry for it
Indeed, Presto, you are plaguy silly to-night, and
have not guessed one word right, for she and the
child are both well, and it is a fine girl, likely to
live; and the dean was godfather, and Mrs. Cathe-
rine and I were godmothers; I was going to say
Stoyte, but I think I have heard they do not put
maids and married women together, though I know
not why I think so, nor I do not care; what care I:
but I must prate, &c.
28. I walked to-day into the city for my health,
and there dined, which I always do when the wea-
ther is fair and business permits, that I may be under
a necessity of taking a good walk, which is the best
thing I can do at present for my health. Some
bookseller has raked up everything I writ, and pub-
lished it the other day in one volume; but I know
nothing of it; it was without my knowledge or con-
sent: it makes a four shilling book, and is called
"Miscellanies in Prose and Verse. Tooke pretends
* Loudon, printra for Johu Morphew, near Stationers' Hall,
Octava.
171!
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
177
he knows nothing of it, but I doubt he is at the
bottom. One must have patience with these things;
the best of it is, I shall be plagued no more.
How-
ever, I will bring a couple of them over with me for
MD; perhaps you may desire to see them. I hear
they sell mightily.
March 1. Morning. I have been calling to Pa-
trick to look in his almanac for the day of the
month I did not know but it might be leap-year.
The almanac says it is the third after leap-year,
and I always thought till now that every third year
was leap-year. I am glad they come so seldom;
but I am sure it was otherwise when I was a young
man; I see times are mightily changed since then.
Write to me, sirrahs, be sure do, by the time this side
is done, and I will keep the other side for the an-
swer: so I will go write to the bishop of Clogher:
good morrow, sirrahs. -Night.-I dined to-day
at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, being a rainy day, and lady
Betty Butler, knowing it, sent to let me know she
expected my company in the evening, where the
Vans (so we call them) were to be. The duchess
and they do not go over this summer with the duke;
so I got to bed.
2. This rainy weather undoes me in coaches and
chairs. I was traipsing to-day with your Mr.
Sterne, to go along with them to Moor, and recom-
mend his business to the treasury. Sterne tells me
his dependence is wholly on me; but I have abso-
lutely refused to recommend it to Mr. Harley, be-
cause I troubled him lately so much with other folks'
affairs; and besides, to tell the truth, Mr. Harley
told me he did not like Sterne's business: however,
I will serve him, because I suppose MD would have
me. But in saying his dependence lies wholly on
me he lies, and is a fool. I dined with lord Aber-
I dined with lord Aber-
corn, whose son Peasley will be married at Easter
to ten thousand pounds.
*
3. I forgot to tell you that yesterday morning I
was at Mr. Harley's levee: he swore I came in
spite, to see him among a parcel of fools. My busi-
ness was to desire I might let the duke of Ormond
know how the affair stood of the first-fruits. He
promised to let him know it, and engaged me to
dline with him to-day. Every Saturday lord-keeper,
secretary St. John, and I dine with him, and some-
times lord Rivers, and they let in none else. Pa-
trick brought me some letters into the Park; among
which was one from Walls, and the other, yes faith,
the other was from our little MD, No. 11. I read
the rest in the Park, and MD's in a chair as I went
from St. James's to Mr. Harley, and glad enough I
was, faith, to read it, and see all right. O, but I
will not answer it these three or four days, at least,
or may be sooner. Am not I silly? Faith your let-
ters would make a dog silly, if I had a dog to be
silly;
but it must be a little dog. I stayed with Mr.
Harley till past nine, where we had much discourse
together after the rest were gone; and I gave him
very truly my opinion where he desired it. He
complained he was not very well, and has engaged
me to dine with him again on Monday. So I came
home afoot, like a fine gentleman, to tell you all this.
4. I dined to-day with Mr. secretary St. John;
and after dinner he had a note from Mr. Harley
that he was much out of order: pray God preserve
his health, everything depends upon it. The par-
liament at present cannot go a step without him,
nor the queen neither. I long to be in Ireland; but
the ministry beg me to stay: however, when this
parliament hurry is over I will endeavour to steal
away; by which time I hope the first-fruit business
will be done. This kingdom is certainly ruined as
much as was ever any bankrupt merchant. We
VOL. 1.
must have peace, let it be a bad or a good one,
though nobody dares talk of it. The nearer I look
upon things the worse I like them. I believe the
confederacy will soon break to pieces, and our fac-
tions at home increase. The ministry is upon a very
narrow bottom, and stand like an isthmus between
the Whigs on one side and violent Tories on the
other. They are able seamen, hut the tempest is
too great, the ship too rotten, and the crew all
against them. Lord Somers has been twice in the
queen's closet, once very lately; and your duchess
of Somerset, who now has the key, is a most insi-
nuating woman, and I believe they will endeavour
to play the same game that has been played against
them. I have told them of all this, which they
know already, but they cannot help it. They have
cautioned the queen so much against being governed,
that she observes it too much. I could talk till to-
morrow upon these things, but they make me melan-
choly. I could not but observe that lately, after
much conversation with Mr. Harley, though he is
the most fearless man alive, and the least apt to de-
spond, he confessed to me that uttering his mind to
me gave him ease.
5. Mr. Harley continues out of order, yet his
affairs force him abroad: he is subject to a sore
throat, and was cupped last nigh. : I sent and called
two or three times. I hear he is better this evening.
I dined to-day in the city with Dr. Freind at a third
body's house, where I was to pass for somebody else,
and there was a plaguy silly jest carried on that
made me sick of it. Our weather grows fine, and
I will walk like camomile. And pray walk you to
your dean's, or your Stoyte's, or your Manley's, or
your Walls'. But your new lodgings make you so
proud you will walk less than ever. Come, let me
go to bed, sirrahs.
6. Mr. Harley's going out yesterday has put him
a little backward. I called twice, and sent, for I am
in pain for him. Ford caught me, and made me
dine with him on his opera-day; so I brought Mr.
Lewis with me, and sat with him till six. I have not
seen Mr. Addison these three weeks: all our friend-
ship is over. I go to no coffeehouse. I presented
a parson of the bishop of Clogher's, one Richardson,
to the duke of Ormond to-day: he is translating
prayers and sermons into Irish, and has a project
about instructing the Irish in the protestant religion.
7. Morning.-Faith a little would make me,
-I
could find in my heart, if it were not for one thing,
I have a good mind, if I had not something else to
do, I would answer your dear saucy letter. O Lord,
How
am going awry with writing in bed. O faith, but
I must answer it, or I shall not have room, for it
must go on Saturday; and do not think I will fill
the third side-I am not come to that yet, young
women. Well, then, as for your Bernage, I have
said enough: I writ to him last week -Turn over
that leaf. Now, what says MD to the world to
come! I tell you, madam Stella, my head is a
great deal better, and I hope will keep so.
came yours to be fifteen days coming, and you had
my 15th in seven? answer me that, rogues. Your
being with goody Walls is exense enough. I find I
was mistaken in the sex-it is a boy. Yes, I under-
stand your cipher, and Stella guesses right, as she
always does. He (Mr. Harley) gave me al bsadnuk
Iboinlpl dfaonr ufainfbtoy dpionufnad, which I sent
him again by Mr. Lewis. to whom I writ a very
complaining letter that was showed him; and so the
matter ended. He told me he had a quarrel with
me; I said I had another with him, and we returned
to our friendship, and I should think he loves me as
• A bank bull for fifty pounds
1
N
178
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
well as a great minister can love a man in so short a
time. Did not I do right? I am glad at heart you
have got your palsy-water; pray God Almighty it
may do my dearest Stella good. I suppose Mrs.
Edgworth set out last Monday se'nnight. Yes, I
do read the Examiners, and they are written very
finely, as you judge. I do not think they are too
severe on the duke; they only tax him of avarice,
and his avarice has ruined us. You may count upon
all things in them to be true. The author has said
it is not Prior; but perhaps it may be Atterbury.
Now, madam Dingley, says she, it is fine weather,
says she; yes, says she, and we have got to our new
lodgings. I compute you ought to save eight pounds
by being in the others five months; and you have
no more done it than eight thousand. I am glad
you are rid of that squinting, blinking Frenchman.
I will give you a bill on Parvisol for five pound for
the half-year. And must I go on at four shillings
a-week, and neither eat nor drink for it?-Who the
d said Atterbury and your dean were alike?
I never saw your chancellor, nor his chaplain [Mr.
Trapp]. The latter has a good deal of learning,
and is a well-wisher to be an author: your chancellor
is an excellent man. As for Patrick's bird. he
bought him for his tameness, and is grown the wild-
est 1 ever saw. His wings have been quilled thrice,
and are now up again: he will be able to fly after
us to Ireland, if he be willing. Yes, Mrs. Stella,
Dingley writes more like Presto than you; for all
you superscribed the letter, as who should say, Why
should not I write like our Presto as well as Ding-
ley? You, with your awkward SS; cannot you
write them thus, SS? No, but always SSS. Spite-
ful sluts, to affront Presto's writing; as that when
you shut
your eyes you write most like Presto.
know the time when I did not write to you
half so
plain as I do now; but I take pity on you both.
am very much concerned for Mrs. Walls' eyes.
Walls says nothing of it to me in his letter dated
after yours. You say if she recovers she may lose
her sight. I hope she is in no danger of her life.
Yes, Ford is as sober as I please. I use him to walk
with me as an easy companion, always ready for
what I please, when I am weary of business and
ministers. I do not go to a coffeehouse twice a
month. I am very regular in going to sleep before
eleven. And so you say that Stella's a pretty girl;
and so she be, and methinks I see her now as hand-
some as the day is long. Do you know what? when
I am writing in our language I make up my mouth
just as if I was speaking it. I caught myself at it
just now. And I suppose Dingley is so fair and so
fresh as a lass in May, and has her health and no
spleen. In your account you sent, do you reckon
as usual from the first of November was twelve-
month? Poor Stella, will not Dingley leave her a
little daylight to write to Presto? Well, well, we
will have daylight shortly, spite of her teeth; and
good must cly Lele, and Hele, and Hele aden. Must
loo mimitate Pdfr, pay? Iss, and so la shall. And
so leles fol ee rettle. Dood mollow. At night.-
At night.
Mrs. Barton sent this morning to invite me to din-
ner; and there I dined, just in that genteel manner
that MD used when they would treat some better
sort of body than usual.
C
I
I
Even to his beloved Stella he had not acknowledged him-
self at this time to be the author of the Examiner.
Print cannot do justice to whims of this kind, as they de-
pend wholly upon the awkward shape of the letters.
Many portions of these letters are spelled according to the
little language.
d" And you must cry There, and Here, and Here again.
Must you imitate Presto, pray? Yes, and so you shall. And
su there's for your letter. Good-morrow.”
¦
8. O dear MD, my heart is almost broken. You
will hear the thing before this comes to you. I writa
full account of it this night to the archbishop of Dub-
lin; and the dean may tell you the particulars from
the archbishop. I was in a sorry way to write, but
thought it might be proper to send a true account of
the fact; for you will hear a thousand lying circum-
stances. It is of Mr. Harley's being stabbed this
afternoon at three o'clock at a committee of the
council. I was playing lady Catherine Morris's
cards where I dined, when young Arundel came in
with the story. I ran away immediately to the se-
cretary, which was in my way: no one was at home.
I met Mrs. St. John in her chair; she had heard it
imperfectly. I took a chair to Mr. Harley, who was
asleep, and they hope in no danger; but he has
been out of order, and was so when he came abroad
to-day, and it may put him in a fever: I am in
mortal pain for him. That desperate French vil-
lain, marquis de Guiscard, stabbed Mr. Harley.ª
Guiscard was taken up by Mr. secretary St. John's
warrant for high treason, and brought before the
lords to be examined; there he stabbed Mr. Harley.
I have told all the particulars already to the arch-
bishop. I have now at nine sent again, and they
tell me he is in a fair way. Pray, pardon my dis-
traction! I now think of all his kindness to me.—
The poor creature now lies stabbed in his bed by a
desperate French popish villain. Good night, and
God preserve you both, and pity me; I want it.
9. Morning; seven, in bed. Patrick is just come
from Mr. Harley's. He slept well till four; the
surgeon sat up with him: he is asleep again: he
felt a pain in his wound when he waked: they ap-
prehend him in no danger. This account the sur-
geon left with the porter, to tell people that send,
Pray God preserve him. I am rising and going to
Mr. secretary St. John. They say Guiscard will
die with the wounds Mr. St. John and the rest gave
him. I shall tell you more at night. Night.-Mr.
Harley still continues on the mending hand; but he
rested ill last night, and felt pain. I was early with
the secretary this morning, and I dined with him,
and he told me several particularities of this acci-
dent, too long to relate now. Mr. Harley is still
mending this evening, but not at all out of danger;
and till then I can have no peace. Good night,
&c., and pity Presto.
I
10. Mr. Harley was restless last night; but he
has no fever, and the hopes of mending increase.
had a letter from Mr. Walls, and one from Mr.
Bernage. I will answer them here, not having time
to write. Mr. Walls writes about three things;
First, about a hundred pounds from Dr. Raymond,
of which I hear nothing, and it is now too late.
Secondly, about Mr. Clements: I can do nothing
in it, because I am not to mention Mr. Pratt; and
I cannot recommend without knowing Mr. Pratt's
objections, whose relation Clements is, and who
brought him into the place. The third is about my
being godfather to the child: that is in my power,
and (since there is no remedy) will submit. I wish
you could hinder it; but if it cannot be helped, pay
what you think proper, and get the provost to stand
for me, and let his christian name be Harley, in
honour to my friend, now lying stabbed and doubt-
ful of his life. As for Bernage, he writes me word
that his colonel has offered to make him captain-
lieutenant for a hundred pounds. He was such a
fool to offer him money without writing to me til!
it was done, though I have had a dozen letters from
him; and then he desires I would say nothing of
The count or abbé de Guiscard, a malcontent Frenchman
of quality
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
179
this, for fear his colonel should be angry. People
are mad. What can I do? I engaged colonel Dis-
ney, who was one of his solicitors to the secretary,
and then told him the story. He assured me that
Fielding (Bernage's colonel) said he might have got
that sum ; but, on account of those great recommend-
ations he had, would give it him for nothing: and
I would have Bernage write him a letter of thanks,
as of a thing given him for nothing, upon recom-
mendations, &c. Disney tells me he will again
speak to Fielding, and clear up this matter; and
then I will write to Bernage. A pox on him for
promising money till I had it promised to me, and
then making it such a ticklish point that one cannot
expostulate with the colonel upon it: but let him
do as I say, and there is an end. I engaged the
secretary of state in it; and I am sure it was meant
a kindness to me, and that no money should be
given, and a hundred pounds is too much in a
Smithfield bargain, as a major-general told me,
whose opinion I asked. I am now hurried, and
can say no more. Farewell, &c. &c.
How shall I superscribe to your new lodgings,
pray, madams? Tell me but that, impudence and
saucy face.
An't you sauceboxes to write lele [i. e. there], like
Presto?
O poor Presto!
Mr. Harley is better to-night, that makes me so
pert, you saucy Gog and Magog.
LETTER THE EIGHTEENTH,
London, March 10, 1710-11.
PRETTY little MD must expect little from me till
Mr. Harley is out of danger. We hope he is so
now; but I am subject to fear for my friends. He
has a head full of the whole business of the nation,
was out of order when the villain stabbed him, and
had a cruel contusion by the second blow. But all
goes well on yet. Mr. Ford and I dined with Mr.
Lewis, and we hope the best.
11. This morning Mr. Secretary and I met at
court, where we went to the queen, who is out of
order and aguish I doubt the worst for this acci-
dent to Mr. Harley. We went together to his
house, and his wound looks well, and he is not
feverish at all, and I think it is foolish in me to be
so much in pain as I am. I had the penknife in
my hand, which is broken within a quarter of an
inch of the handle. I have a mind to write and
publish an account of all the particularities of this
fact it will be very curious, and I would do it
when Mr. Harley is past danger.
12. We have been in terrible pain to-day about
Mr. Harley, who never slept last night, and has
been very feverish. But this evening I called there,
aud young Mr. Harley (his only son) tells me he is
now much better, and was then asleep. They let
nobody see him, and that is perfectly right. The
parliament cannot go on till he is well, and are
forced to adjourn their money businesses, which none
but he can help them in. Pray God preserve him.
13. Mr. Harley is better to-day, slept well all
night, and we are a little out of our fears. I send
and call three or four times every day. I went into
I went into
the city for a walk, and dined there with a private
man; and coming home this evening broke my
shin in the Strand, over a tub of sand left just
in the way. I got home dirty enough, and went
straight to bed, where I have been cooking it with
goldbeaters' skin, and have been peevish enough
with Patrick, who was near an hour bringing a rag
Commonly called duke Disney
a
from next door. It is my right shin, where never
any humour fell when the other used to swell; so I
apprehend it less however, I shall not stir till it is
well, which I reckon will be in a week.
I am very
careful in these sort of things, but I wish I had
Mrs. Johnson's water: she is out of town, and I
must make a shift with alum. I will dine with
Mrs. Vanhomrigh till I am well, who lives but five
doors off: and that I may venture.
14. My journals are like to be very diverting,
now I cannot stir abroad, between accounts of Mr
Harley's mending, and of my broken shin. I just
walked to my neighbour Vanhonirigh at two, and
came away at six, when little Harrison the Tatler
came to me, and begged me to dictate a paper to
him, which I was forced in charity to do. Mr.
Harley still mends; and I hope in a day or two to
trouble you no more with him, nor with my shin.
Go to bed and sleep, sirrahs, that you may rise to-
morrow, and walk to Donnybrook, and lose your
money with Stoyte and the dean; do so, dear little
rogues, and drink Presto's health. O, pray, do not
you drink Presto's health sometimes with your
deans, and your Stoytes, and your Walls, and your
Manleys, and your every bodies, pray now? I drink
MD's to myself a hundred thousand times.
15. I was this morning at Mr. secretary St.
John's, for all my shin, and he has given me for
young Harrison the Tatler the prettiest employment
in Europe,-secretary to lord Raby, who is to be
ambassador extraordinary at the Hague, where all
the great affairs will be concerted: so we shall lose
the Tatlers in a fortnight. I will send Harrison to-
morrow morning to thank the secretary. Poor
Biddy Floyd has got the small-pox. I called this
morning to see lady Betty Germain; and when she
told me so I fairly took my leave. I have the luck
of it; ª for about ten days ago I was to see lord
Carteret, and my lady was entertaining me with
telling of a young lady, a cousin, who was then ill
in the house of the small-pox, and is since dead; it
was near lady Betty's, and I fancy Biddy took the
fright by it. I dined with Mr. Secretary, and a phy-
sician came in just from Guiscard, who tells us he is
dying of his wounds, and can hardly live till to-
morrow. A poor wench that Guiscard kept sent
him a bottle of sack; but the keeper would not let
him touch it, for fear it was poison. He had two
quarts of old clotted blood come out of his side to-
day, and is delirious. I am sorry he is dying, for
they have found out a way to hang him. He cer-
tainly had an intention to murder the queen.
16. I have made but little progress in this letter
for so many days, thanks to Guiseard and Mr.
Harley; and it would be endless to tell you all the
particulars of that odious fact. I do not yet hear that
Guiscard is dead, but they say it is impossible he
should recover. I walked too much yesterday for a
man with a broken shin; to-day I rested, and went
no further than Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, where I dined;
and lady Betty Butler coming in about six. I was
forced in good manners to sit with her till nine;
then I came home, and Mr. Ford came in to visit
my shin, and sat with me till eleven; so I have
been very idle and naughty. It vexes me to the
pluck that I should lose walking this delicious day.
Have you seen the Spectator yet, a paper that comes
out every day? It is written by Mr. Steele, who
seems to have gathered new life, and have a new
fund of wit; it is in the same nature as his Tatlers.
and they have all of them had something pretty.
I believe Addison and he club. I never see them;
and I plainly told Mr. Harley and Mr. St. John ten
* Swift never had the small-pox.
? א
180
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
days ago, before my lord-keeper and lord Rivers, I
had been foolish enough to spend my credit with
them in favour of Addison and Steele; but that I
would engage and promise never to say one word
in their behalf, having been used so ill for what ▾
had already done. So, now I have got into the way
of prating again, there will be no quiet for me.
When Presto begins to prate,
Give him a rap upon the pate.
O Lord, how I blot; it is time to leave off, &c.
17. Guiscard died this morning at two, and the
coroner's inquest have found that he was killed by
bruises received from a messenger, so to clear the
cabinet councillors from whom he received his
wounds. I had a letter from Raymond, who cannot
hear of your box; but I hope you have it before this
comes to your hands. I dined to-day with Mr. Lewis
of the secretary's office. Mr. Harley has abundance
of extravasated blood comes from his breast out of
his wound, and will not be well so soon as we ex-
pected. I had something to say, but cannot call it
to mind. (What was it?)
18. I was to-day at court to look for the duke of
Argyle, and give him the memorial about Bernage.
The duke goes with the first fair wind: I could not
find him, but I have given the memorial to another
to give him; and, however, it shall be sent after
him. Bernage has made a blunder in offering money
to his colonel without my advice: however, he is
made captain-lieutenant, only he must recruit his
company, which will cost him forty pounds, and
that is cheaper than a hundred. I dined to-day
with Mr. secretary St. John, and stayed till seven,
but would not drink his champaign and burgundy,
for fear of the gout. My shin mends, but is not
well.
I hope it will by the time I send this letter,
next Saturday.
19. I went to-day into the city, but in a coach,
tossed up my leg on the seat; and, as I came home, I
went to see poor Charles Bernard's books, which
are to be sold by auction, and I itch to lay out nine
or ten pounds for some fine editions of fine authors.
But it is too far, and I shall let it slip, as I usually
do all such opportunities. I dined in a coffeehouse
with Stratford upon chops, and some of his wine.
Where did MD dine? Why, poor MD dined at
home to-day, because of the archbishop, and they
could not go abroad, and had a breast of mutton
and a pint of wine. I hope Mrs. Walls mends;
and pray give me an account what sort of godfather
I made, and whether I behaved myself handsomely.
The duke of Argyle is gone; and whether he has
my memorial I know not, till I see Dr. Arburthnot,
to whom I gave it. That hard name belongs to a
Scotch doctor, an acquaintance of the duke's and
me; Stella cannot pronounce it. O that we were
at Laracor this fine day! the willows begin to peep,
and the quicks to bud. My dream is out: I was a
dreaming last night that I eat ripe cherries. And
now they begin to catch the pikes, and will shortly
the trouts (pox on these ministers), and I would
fain know whether the floods were ever so high as
to get over the holly bank or the river walk; if so,
then all my pikes are gone; but I hope not. Why
do not you ask Parvisol these things, sirrahs? And
then my canal, and trouts, and whether the bottom
be fine and clear? But harkee, ought not Parvisol
το pay
in my
last year's rents and arrears out of his
hands? I am thinking, if either of you have heads
to take his accounts, it should be paid in to you;
otherwise to Mr. Walls. I will write an order on
the other side; and do as you will. Here is a world
of business; but I must go sleep, I am drowsy, and
so good night, &c.
20. This sore shin ruins me in coach-hire; no less
than two shillings to-day going and coming from the
city, where I dined with one you never heard of,
and passed an insipid day. I writ this post to Ber-
nage, with the account I told you above.
I hope
he will like it; it is his own fault, or it would have
been better. I reckon your next letter will be full
of Mr. Harley's stabbing. He still mends, but
abundance of extravasated blood has come out of the
wound: he keeps his bed, and sees nobody. The
speaker's eldest son is just dead of the small-pox,
and the house is adjourned a week, to give him time
to wipe off his tears. I think it very handsomely
done; but I believe one reason is, that they want
Mr. Harley so much. Biddy Floyd is like to do
well; and so go to your dean's, and roast his oranges,
and lose your money; do so, you saucy sluts. Steila,
you lost three shillings and fourpence the other night
at Stoyte's, yes, you did, and Presto stood in a
corner, and saw you all the while, and then stole
away. I dream very often I am in Ireland, and
that I have left my clothes and things behind me,
and have not taken leave of anybody, and that the
ministry expect me to-morrow, and such nonsense.
21. I would not for a guinea have a letter from
you till this goes; and go it shall on Saturday, faith.
I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, to save my shin,
and then went on some business to the secretary,
and he was not at home.
22. Yesterday was a short day's journal; but
what care I what cares saucy Presto! Darteneuf [a
great punster] invited me to dinner to-day. Do
not you know Darteneuf? That is the man that
knows everything, and that everybody knows; and
that knows where a kuot of rabble are going on a
holiday, and when they were there last; and then I
went to the coffechouse. My shin mends, but is
not quite healed; I ought to keep it up, but I do
not; I c'en let it go as it comes. Pox take Parvisol
and his watch. If I do not receive the ten-pound
bill I am to get toward it, I will neither receive
watch nor cham; so let Palvisol know.
23. I this day appointed the duke of Ormond to
meet him at Ned Southwell's, about an affair of
printing Irish prayer-books, &c., but the duke never
came. There Southwell had letters that two packets
are taken; so if MD writ then, the letters are gone;
for they were packets coming here. Mr. Harley is
not yet well, but his extravasated blood continues,
and I doubt he will not be quite well in a good
while: I find you have heard of the fact by South-
well's letters from Ireland: what do you think of
it? I dined with sir John Perceval, and saw his
lady sitting in the bed, in the forms of a lying-in
woman; and coming home my sore shin itched, and
I forgot what it was, and rubbed off the scab, and
blood came but I am now got into bed, and have
put on alum curd, and it is almost well. Lord Rivers
told me yesterday a piece of bad news, as a secret,
that the pretender is going to be married to the
duke of Savoy's daughter. It is very bad, if it be
true. We were walking in the Mall with some
Scotch lords, and he could not tell it until they
were gone, and he bade me tell it to none but the
secretary of state and MD. This goes to-morrow,
and I have no room but to bid my dearest little MD
good night.
24. I will now seal up this letter, and send it;
for I reckon to have none from you (it is morning
now) between this and night; and I will put it in
the post with my own hands. I am going out in
great haste; so farewell, &c
a Created baron Perceval, April 21. 1715; viscount Perceval,
Feb. 25, 1722; and oarl of Egmont, Nov. 6, 1733,
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
181
LETTER THE NINETEENTH,
London, March 24, 1710-11.
It was a little cross in Presto not to send to-day to
the coffeehouse to see whether there was a letter
from MD before I sent away mine; but faith I did
it on purpose, because I would scorn to answer two
letters of yours successively. This way of journal is
the worst in the world for writing of news, unless
one does it the last day; and so I will observe
henceforward, if there be any politics or stuff
worth sending. My shin mends in spite of the
scratching last night. I dined to-day at Ned South-
well's with the bishop of Ossory and a parcel of
Irish gentlemen. Have you yet seen any of the
Spectators? Just three weeks to-day since I had
your last, No. 11. I am afraid I have lost one by
the packet that was taken; that will vex me, con-
sidering the pains MD takes to write, especially
poor Stella, and her weak eyes. God bless them
and the owner, and send them well, and little me
together, I hope ere long. This illness of Mr. Harley
puts everything backward, and he is still down, and
like to be so, by that extravasated blood which comes
from his breast to the wound: it was by the second
blow Guiscard gave him after the penknife was
broken. I am shocked at that villany whenever I
think of it. Biddy Floyd is past danger, but will
lose all her beauty: she had them mighty thick, es-
pecially about her nose.
25. Morning.-I wish you a merry new year: this
is the first day of the year, you know, with us, and
'tis Lady-day. I must rise and go to my lord-keeper:
it is not shaving-day to-day, so I shall be early. I
am to dine with Mr. secretary St. John. Good
morrow, my mistresses both, good morrow. Stella
will be peeping out of her room at Mrs. de Caudres'
down upon the folks as they come from church;ª
and there comes Mrs. Proby, and that's my lady
Southwell, and there's lady Betty Rochfort. I long
to hear how you are settled in your new lodgings.
I wish I were rid of my old ones, and that Mrs.
Brent could contrive to put up my books in boxes,
and lodge them in some safe place, and you keep
my papers of importance. But I must rise, I tell
you. At night. So I visited and dined as I told
you, and what of that? We have let Guiscard be
buried at last, after showing him pickled in a trough
this fortnight for twopence apiece; and the fellow
that showed would point to his body, and,
gentlemen, this is the wound that was given him by
his grace the duke of Ormond;" and "this is the
wound," &c.; and then the show was over, and an-
other set of rabble came in. 'Tis hard that cur laws
would not suffer us to hang his body in chains, be-
cause he was not tried; and in the eye of our law
every man is innocent till then. Mr. Harley is still
very weak, and never out of bed.
“See,
26. This was a most delicious day; and my shin
being past danger I walked like lightning above two
hours in the park. We have generally one fair day,
and then a great deal of rain for three or four days
together. All things are at a stop in parliament for
want of Mr. Harley; they cannot stir an inch with-
out him in their most material affairs; and we fear
by the caprice of Radcliffe, who will admit none but
his own surgeon, he has not been well looked after.
I dined at an alehouse with Mr. Lewis, but had his
wine. Don't you begin to see the flowers and blos-
soms of the field? How busy should I now be at
Laracor? No news of your box? I hope you have
it, and are this minute drinking the chocolate, and
that the smell of the Brazil tobacco has not affected
Mrs. de Caudres, their landlady, lived opposite to St.
Mary's chuch.
it. I would be glad to know whether you like it,
because I would send you more by people that are
now every day thinking of going to Ireland; there-
fore pray tell me, and tell me soon, and I will have
the strong box.
:
27. A rainy wretched scurvy day from morning
till night and my neighbour Vanhomrigh invited
me to dine with them: and this evening I passed at
Mr. Prior's with Dr. Freind; and 'tis now past twelve,
so I must go sleep.
"Whose
28. Morning. O faith, you're an impudent saucy
couple of sluttekins for presuming to write so soon,
said I to myself this morning; who knows but there
may be a letter from MD at the coffeehouse? Well,
you must know, and so, I just now sent Patrick, and
he brought me three letters, but not one from MD, no
indeed, for I read all the superscriptions; and not
one from MD.
One I opened, it was from the
archbishop; t'other I opened, it was from Staunton;
the third I took, and looked at the hand.
hand is this?" says I: yes, says I, "whose hand is
this?" then there was wax between the folds: then
I began to suspect; then I peeped; faith, it was
Walis' hand after all: then I opened it in a rage,
and then it was little MD's hand, dear, little, pretty,
charming MD's sweet hand again. O Lord, en't
here a clutter and a stir, and a bustle, never saw the
like. Faith I believe yours lay some days at the
post-office, and that it came before my 18th went,
but that I did not expect it, and I hardly ever go
there. Well, and so you think I'll answer this letter
now? no, faith, and so I won't. I'll make you wait,
young women,; but I'll inquire immediately about
poor Dingley's exchequer trangum [tally]. What,
is that Vedel again a soldier? Was he broke? I'll
put it in Ben Tooke's hand. I hope Vedel could
not sell it. At night.-Vedel, Vedel, poh, pox, I
thing it is Vedeau, ay, Vedeau, now I have it: let
me see, do you name him in yours? Yes, Mr. John
Vedeau is the brother; but where does this brother
live I'll inquire. This was a fast-day for the public;
so I dined late with sir Matthew Dudley, whom I
have not been with a great while. He is one of
those that must lose his employment whenever the
great shake comes; and I can't contribute to keep
him in, though I have dropped words in his favour
to the ministry; but he has been too violent a Whig
and friend to the lord-treasurera to stay in. 'Tis
odd to think how long they let those people keep
their places; but the reason is, they have not enough
to satisfy all expecters, and so they keep them all in
hopes that they may be good boys in the mean time;
and thus the old ones hold in still. The comp-
troller [sir John Holland] told me that there are
eight people expect his staff. I walked after dinner
to-day round the park.-What, do I write politics.
to little young women? Hold your tongue and go to
your dean's.
29. Morning.-If this be a fine day, I will walk
into the city and see Charles Bernard's library.
What care I for your letter, your saucy No. 12? I
will say nothing to it yet: faith, I believe this will
be full before its time, and then go it must, I will
always write once a fortnight; and if it goes sooner
by filling sooner, why then there is so much clear
gain. Morrow, morrow, rogues and lasses both, I
can't lie scribbling here in bed for your play; I
must rise, and so morrow again. At night.-
At night.-Your
friend Montgomery and his sister are here, as I am
told by Patrick. I have seen him often, but take no
notice of him: he is grown very ugly and pimpled.
They tell me he is a gamester, and wins money.
How could I help it, pray? Patrick snuffed the
The earl of Godolphin, late lord-treasurer,
182
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
candle too short, and the grease ran down upon the
paper. It en't my fault, 'tis Patrick's fault; pray
now don't blame Presto. I walked to-day into the
city, and dined at a private house, and went to see
the auction of poor Charles Bernard's books; they
were in the middle of the physic books; so I bought
none; and they are so dear. I believe I shall buy
none, and there's an end; and go to Stoyte's, and
I'll go sleep.
30. Morning. This is Good-Friday, you must
know, and I must rise and go to Mr. Secretary
about some business, and Mrs. Vanhomrigh desires
me to breakfast with her, because she is to intercede
for Patrick, who is so often drunk and quarrelsome in
the house, that I was resolved to send him over; but
he knows all the places where I send, and is so used
to my ways, that it would be inconvenient to me;
but when I come to Ireland I will discharge him.
Sir Thomas Mansel, one of the lords of the treasury,
setting me down at my door to-day, saw Patrick,
and swore he was a Teaguelander. I am so used to
his face, I never observed it, but thought him a
pretty fellow. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I supped
this fast-day with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.
We were
afraid Mr. Harley's wound would turn to a fistula;
but we think the danger is now past. He rises
every day, and walks about his room, and we hope
he'll be out in a fortnight. Prior showed me a
handsome paper of verses he has writ on Mr.
Harley's accident: they are not out; I will send
them to you if he will give me a copy.
31. Morning.-What shall we do to make April
fools this year, no wit happens on Sunday? Patrick
brings word that Mr. Harley still mends, and is up
every day. I design to see him in a few days; brings
me word too that he has found out Vedeau's brother's
shop I shall call there in a day or two. It seems
the wife lodges next door to the brother. I doubt
the scoundrel was broke [bankrupt], and got a com-
mission, or perhaps is a volunteer gentleman, and
expects to get one by his valour. Morrow, sirrahs,
let me rise. At night.-I dined to-day with sir
Thomas Mansel. We were walking in the Park,
and Mr. Lewis came to us. Mansel asked "where
we dined?" We said "together." He said, "we
should dine with him, ouly his wife desired him to
bring nobody, because she had only a leg of mutton.'
I said, "I would dine with him to choose;" but he
would send a servant to order a plate or two: yet
this man has ten thousand pounds a year in land,
and is a lord of the treasury, and is not covetous
neither, but runs out merely by slattering and negli-
gence.
The worst dinner I ever saw at the dean's
was better: but so it is with abundance of people
here. I called at night at Mr. Harley's, who begins
to walk in his room with a stick, but is mighty weak.
See how much I have lost with that ugly grease.
Tis your fault; pray, and I'll go to bed.
April 1.-The duke of Buckingham's house fell
down last night with an earthquake, and is half
swallowed up ;-Won't you go and see it ?-An
April fool, an April fool, O ho, young women.—
Well, don't be angry, I'll make you an April fool no
more till the next time: we had no sport here,
because it is Sunday and Easter Sunday. I dined
with the secretary, who seemed terribly down and
melancholy, which Mr. Prior and Lewis observed as
well as I: perhaps something is gone wrong; perhaps
there is nothing in it. God bless my own dearest
MD, and all is well.
2. We have such windy weather, 'tis troublesome
walking, yet all the rabble have got into our Park
these holidays. I am plagued with one Richardson,
an Irish parson, and his project of printing Irish
Bibles, &c., to make you christians in that country.
I befriend him what I can, on account of the arch-
bishop and bishop of Clogher. But what business
have I to meddle? &c. Don't you remember that,
sirrah Stella? what was that about, when you thought
I was meddling with something that was not my
business? O faith you are an impudent slut, I re-
member your doings, I'll never forget you as long as
I live. Lewis and I dined together at his lodgings.
But where's the answer to this letter of MD's? O
faith, Presto, you must think of that. Time enough,
says saucy Presto.
3. I was this morning to see Mrs. Barton; I love
her better than any one here, and see her seldomer.
Why, really now, so it often happens in the world,
that where one loves a body best-pshah, pshah, you
are so silly with your moral observations.-Weli, but
she told me a very good story. An old gentlewoman
died here two months ago, and left in her will to
have eight men and eight maids bearers, who should
have two guineas a-piece, ten guineas to the parson
for a sermon, and two guineas to the clerk. But
bearers, parson, and clerk must be all true virgins;
and not to be admitted till they took their oaths of
virginity: so the poor woman lies still unburied,
and so must do till the general resurrection. I called
at Mr. Secretary, to see what the d-ailed him on
Sunday; I made him a very proper speech, told him
"I observed he was much out of temper: that I did
not expect he would tell me the cause, but would
be glad to see he was in better;" and one thing I
warned him of, "never to appear cold to me, for I
would not be treated like a schoolboy; that I had
felt too much of that in my life already (meaning sir
William Temple), that I expected every great minis-
ter, who honoured me with his acquaintance, if he
heard or saw anything to my disadvantage, would
let me know in plain words, and not put me in pain
to guess by the change or coldness of his counte-
nance or behaviour; for it was what I would hardly
bear from a crowned head, and I thought no subject's
favour was worth it; and that I designed to let my
lord-keeper and Mr. Harley know the same thing,
that they might use me accordingly." He took all
right; said "I had reason;" vowed "nothing ailed
him but sitting up whole nights at business, and
one night at drinking ;" would have had me dined
with him and Mrs. Masham's brother, to make up
matters, but I would not. I don't know, but I would
not. But indeed I was engaged with my old friend
Rollinson you never heard of him before.
4. I sometimes look a line or two back, and see
plaguy mistakes of the pen; how do you get over
them? you are puzzled sometimes. Why, I think
what I said to Mr. Secretary was right. Don't you
remember how I used to be in pain when sir William
Temple would look cold and out of humour for
three or four days, and I used to suspect a hundred
reasons? I have plucked up my spirit since then,
faith; he spoiled a fine gentleman. I dined with
my neighbour Vanhomrigh, and MD, poor MD, at
home on a loin of mutton and half a pint of wine,
and the mutton was raw; poor Stella could not eat,
poor dear rogue, and Dingley was so vexed: but
we'll dine at Stoyte's to-morrow.
Mr. Harley pro-
mised to see me in a day or two, so I called this
evening; but his son and others were abroad, and
he asleep, so I came away, and found out Mrs.
Vedeau. She drew out a letter from Dingley, and
said she would get a friend to receive the money. I
told her I would employ Mr. Tooke in it hencefor-
a William Rollinson, esq., merchant, who retired from bust-
ness into Oxfordshire.
The bookseller, who transacted Swift's pecuniary busines
JOURNAL TO STELLA,
183
ward. Her husband bought a lieutenancy of foot,
and is gone to Portugal. He sold his share of the
shop to his brother, and put out the money to main-
tain her, all but what bought the commission. She
lodges within two doors of her brother. She told
me it made her very melancholy to change her
She
manner of life thus, but trade was dead, &c.
says she will write to you soon. I design to engage
Ben Tooke, and then receive the parchment from her.
I gave Mr. Dopping a copy of Prior's verses on Mr.
Harley: he sent them yesterday to Ireland; so go look
for them, for I won't be at the trouble to transcribe
them here. They will be printed in a day or two.
Give my hearty service to Stoyte and Catherine; upon
my word I love them dearly, and desire you will tell
them so pray desire Goody Stoyte not to let Mrs.
Walls and Mrs. Johnson cheat her of her money at
ombre, but assure her from me that she is a bungler.
Dine with her to-day, and tell her so, and drink my
health, and good voyage and speedy return, and so
you're a rogue.
And
5. Morning. Now let us proceed to examine a
saucy letter from one madam MD. God Almighty
bless poor dear Stella, and send her a great many
birthdays, all happy, and healthy, and wealthy, and
with me ever together, and never asunder again,
unless by chance. When I find you are happy or
merry there, it makes me so here, and I can hardly
imagine you absent when I am reading your letter
or writing to you. No, faith, you are just here
upon this little paper, and therefore I sec and talk
with you every evening constantly, and sometimes
in the morning, but not always in the morning, be-
cause that is not so modest to young ladies. What,
you would fain palm a letter upon me more than
you sent; and I like a fool must look over all yours,
to see whether this was really No. 12, or more. Pa-
trick has this moment brought me letters from the
bishop of Clogher and Parvisol; my heart was at my
mouth for fear of one from MD: what a disgrace
would it be to have two of yours to answer together?
but faith this shall go to-night, for fear, and then,
come when it will, I defy it. No, you are not
naughty at all; write when you are disposed.
so the dean told you the story of Mr. Harley, from
the archbishop; I warrant it never spoiled your
supper, or broke off your game. Nor yet, have not
you the box; I wish Mrs. Edgworth had the
But you have it now, I suppose: and is the choco-
late good, or has the tobacco spoiled it? Leigh |
stays till Sterne has done his business, no longer;
and when that will be, God knows: I befriend him
as much as I can, but Mr. Harley's accident stops
that as well as all things else. You guess, madam
Dingley, that I shall stay a round twelvemonth
hope saved, I would come over if I could this mi-
nute; but we will talk of that by and by. Your
affair of Vedeau I have told you of already; now to
the next, turn over the leaf. Mrs. Dobbins lies, I
have no more provision here or in Ireland than I
had. I am pleased that Stella the conjurer ap-
proves what I did with Mr. Harley; but your
generosity makes me mad; I know you repine
inwardly at Presto's absence; you think he has
broken his word of coming in three months, and that
this is always his trick and now Stella says she
does not see possibly how I can come away in haste,
and that MD is satisfied, &c. An't you a rogue to
overpower me thus? I did not expect to find such
friends as I have done. They may indeed deceive
me too. But there are important reasons [Pox on
this grease, this candle-tallow!] why they should
1 have been used barbarously by the late mi-
• In relation to the bank-note for fifty pounds.
not.
as
nistry: I am a little piqued in honour to let people
see I am not to be despised. The assurances they
give me, without any scruple or provocation, are
such as are usually believed in the world; they may
come to nothing, but the first opportunity that
offers, and is neglected, I shall depend no more, but
come away. I could say a thousand things on this
head if I were with you. I am thinking why Stella
should not go to the Bath, if she be told it will do
her good; I will make Parvisol get up fifty pounds,
and pay it you; and you may be good housewives,
and live cheap there some months, and return in
autumn, or visit London, as you please: pray think
of it. I writ to Bernage, directed to Curry's; I
wish he had the letter. I will send the bohea tea,
if I can.
The bishop of Kilmore? I don't keep
such company: an old dying fool, whom I was
never with in my life. So I am no godfather; all
the better. Pray, Stella, explain those two words
of yours to me, what you mean by villian and
dainger, and you, madam Dingley, what is chris-
tianing? -Lay your letters this way, this way, and
the devil a bit of difference between this way and
t'other way. No; I'll show you, lay them this way,
-You shall
this way, and not that way, that way.—
have your aprons; and I'll put all your commissions
as they come, in a paper together, and don't think
I'll forget MD's orders, because they are friends;
I'll be as careful as if they were strangers. I know
not what to do about this Clements. Walls will
not let me say anything, as if Mr. Pratt was against
him; and now the bishop of Clogher has written to
me in his behalf. This thing does not rightly fall
in my way, and that people never consider: I al-
ways give my good offices where they are proper,
and that I am judge of; however, I will do what I
can. But if he has the name of a Whig, it will be
hard, considering my lord Anglesea and Hyde are
very much otherwise, and you know they have the
employment of deputy-treasurer. If the frolic should
take you of going to the Bath, I here send you a
note on Parvisol; if not, you may tear it, and there's
an end. Farewell.
If you have an imagination that the Bath will do
you good, I say again I would have you go; if not,
or it be inconvenient, burn this note. Or, if you
would go, and not take so much money, take thirty
pounds, and I will return you twenty from hence.
Do as you please, sirrahs. I suppose it will not be
too late for the first season; if it be, I would have
you resolve, however, to go the second season, if the
doctors say it will do you good, and you fancy so.
LETTER THE TWENTIETH.
London, April 5, 1711.
I PUT my 19th in the post-office just now myself, as
I came out of the city, where I dined. This rain
ruins me in coach-hire; I walked away sixpenny-
worth, and came within a shilling length, and then
took a coach, and got a lift back for nothing; and
am now busy.
6. Mr. Secretary desired I would see him this
morning, said he had several things to say to me,
and said not one: and the duke of Ormond sent to
desire I would meet him at Mr. Southwell's by ten
this morning too, which I did, thinking it was some
particular matter. All the Irish in town were there,
to consult upon preventing a bill for laying a duty
on Irish yarn; so we talked awhile, and then all
went to the lobby of the house of commons to so-
licit our friends, and the duke came among the rest;
and lord Anglesea solicited admirably, and I did
wonders. But after all, the matter was put off till
184
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
Monday, and then we are to be at it again. I dined
with lord Mountjoy, and looked over him at chess,
which put me in mind of Stella and Griffyth. I
came home, and that dog Patrick was not within, so
I fretted, and fretted, and what good did that do
me? And so
Get you gone to your deans,
You couple of queans.
I can't find rhyme to Walls and Stoyte.-Yes, yes,-
You expect Mrs. Walls; To carry you to Stoyte,
Be dress'd when she calls, Or else honi soit.
Henley told me that the Tories were insupportable
people, because they are for bringing in French cla-
ret, and will not sup-port. Mr. Harley will hardly
get abroad this week or ten days yet. I reckon,
when I send away this letter, he will be just got
into the house of commons. My last letter went
in twelve days, and so perhaps may this. No, it
won't; for those letters that go under a fortnight
are answerers to one of yours, otherwise you must
take the days as they happen. some dry, some wet,
some barren, some fruitful, some merry, some insi-
pid, some, &c. I will write you word exactly the
first day I see young gooseberries, and pray observe
how much later you are. We have not had five fine
days this five weeks, but rain or wind.-'Tis a late
spring they say here. Go to bed, you two dear
saucy brats, and don't keep me up all night.
7. Ford has been at Epsom, to avoid Good Friday
and Easter Sunday. He forced me to-day to dine
with him; and tells me there are letters from Ire-
land giving an account of a great indiscretion in the
archbishop of Dublin, who applied a story out of
Tacitus very reflectingly on Mr. Harley, and that
twenty people have written of it; I do not believe
it yet.
I called this evening to see Mr. Secretary,
who had been very ill with the gravel and pain in
his back, by burgundy and champagne, added to
the sitting up all night at business; I found him
drinking tea, while the rest were at champagne,
and was very glad of it. I have chid him so se-
verely, that I hardly knew whether he would take
it well then I went and sat an hour with Mrs. St.
John, who is growing a great favourite of mine; she
goes to the Bath on Wednesday, for she is much
out of health, and has begged me to take care of the
secretary.
8. I dined to-day with Mr. secretary St. John;
he gave me a letter to read, which was from the
publisher of the newspaper called the Post-Boy [a
Tory paper and violent]; in it there was a long
copy of a letter from Dublin, giving an account of
what the Whigs said upon Mr. Harley's being
stabbed, and how much they abuse him and Mr.
secretary St. John; and at the end there was half a
dozen lines, telling the story of the archbishop of
Dublin, and abusing him horribly; this was to be
printed on Tuesday. I told the secretary "I would
not suffer that about the archbishop to be printed,”
and so I crossed it out; and afterward, to prevent
all danger, I made him give me the letter, and, upon
further thought, would let none of it be published:
and I sent for the printer and told him so, and or-
dered him in the secretary's name "to print nothing
reflecting on anybody in Ireland till he had showed
it me." Thus I have prevented a terrible scandal
to the archbishop, by a piece of perfect good fortune.
I will let him know it by next post; and pray, if
you pick it out, let me know, and whether he is
thankful for it; but say nothing.
9. I was to-day at the house of commons again
about this yarn, at lord Anglesea's desire, but the
business is again put off till Monday. I dined with
ir John Stanley, by an assignation I had made with
Mr. St. John, and George Granville, the secretary
at war; but they let in other company, some ladies,
and so we were not as easy as I intended. My
head is pretty tolerable, but every day I feel some
little disorders; I have left off snuff since Sunday,
finding myself much worse after taking a good deal
at the secretary's. I would not let him drink one
drop of champagne or burgundy without water,
and in compliment I did so myself. He is much.
better, but when he is well he is like Stella, and
will not be governed. So go to your Stoyte's, and
I'll go sleep.
10. I have been visiting lady Worsley and Mrs.
Barton to-day, and dined soberly with my friend
Lewis. The dauphin is dead of an apoplexy; I
wish he had lived till the finishing of this letter, that
it might be news to you. Duncomb, the rich alder-
man [and lord mayor of London], died to-day, and I
hear has left the duke of Argyle, who married his
niece, two hundred thousand pounds; I hope it is
true, for I love that duke mightily. I writ this even-
ing to the archbishop of Dublin about what I told
you; and then went to take leave of poor Mrs. St.
Johu, who gave me strict charge to take care of the
secretary in her absence; said she had none to trust
but me and the poor creature's tears came fresh
into her eyes.
Before we took leave I was drawn
in by the other ladies and sir John Stanley to raffle
for a fan, with a pox; it was four guineas, and we
put in seven shillings a piece, several raffied for ab-
sent people; but I lost, and so missed an oppor-
tunity of showing my gallantry to Mrs. St. John,
whom I designed to have presented it to
won.
I had
Is Dilly [Rev. Dillon Ashe] gone to the Bath?
His face will whiz in the water; I suppose he will
write to us from thence, and will take London in
his way back. The rabble will say, "There goes a
drunken parson," and, which is worse, they will say
true. O, but you must know, I carried Ford to dine
with Mr. St. John last Sunday, that he may brag,
when he goes back, of dining with a secretary of
state. The secretary and I went away early, and
left him drinking with the rest, and he told me
"that two or three of them were drunk." They
talk of great promotions to be made; that Mr. Harley
is to be lord- treasurer, and lord Poulet master of the
horse, &c., but they are only conjecture. The
speaker is to make Mr. Harley a compliment the
first time he comes into the house, which I hope
will be in a week. He has had an ill surgeon by
the caprice of that puppy Dr. Radcliffe, which has
kept him back so long; and yesterday he got a cold,
but is better to-day. What! I think I am stark
mad to write so much in one day to little saucy MD;
here's a deal of stuff, indeed; can't you bid those
dear little rogues good night, and let them go
sleep, Mr. Presto? When your tongue runs there's
no ho with you, pray.
11. Again at the lobby, like a lobcock, of the
house of commons,
house of commons, about your Irish yarn, and
again
again put off till Friday; and I and Patrick went
into the city by water, where I dined, and then
went to the auction of Charles Bernard's books, hut
the good ones were so monstrous dear I could not
reach them, so I laid out one pound seven shillings
but very indifferently, and came away, and will go
there no more. Henley would fain engage me to
go with Steele and Rowe, &c., to an invitation at
sir William Read's.b Surely you have heard of
him. He has been a mountebank, and is the
Afterwards lord Lansdowne, celebrated by Pope as "Gran-
ville the polite."
An advertising quack for the cure of ophthalmia, wens
harclips, wry necks, &c. &c.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
185
ļ
queen's oculist; he makes admirable punch, and
treats you in gold vessels. But I am engaged, and
won't go, neither indeed am I fond of the jaunt. So
good night, and go sleep.
12. I went about noon to the secretary, who is
very ill with a cold, and sometimes of the gravel,
with his champagne, &c. I scolded him like a dog,
and he promises faithfully more care for the future.
To-day my lord Anglesea, and sir Thomas Hanmer,
and Prior, and I, dined, by appointment, with lieu-
tenant-general Webb. My lord and I stayed till ten
o'clock, but we drank soberly, and I always with
water. There was with us one Mr. Campain, one
of the October club, if you know what that is; a
club of country members, who think the ministers
are too backward in punishing and turning out the
Whigs. I found my lord and the rest thought I
had more credit with the ministry than I pretend to
have, and would have engaged me to put them upon
something that would satisfy their desires, and in-
deed I think they have some reason to complain;
however, I will not burn my fingers. I'll remember
Stella's chiding. What had you to do with what
did not belong to you? &c. However, you will give
me leave to tell the ministry my thoughts when they
ask them, and other people's thoughts sometimes
when they do not ask; so thinks Dingley.
13. I called this morning at Mrs. Vedeau's again,
who has employed a friend to get the money; it
will be done in a fortnight, and then she will deliver
me up the parchment. I went then to see Mr.
Harley, who I hope will be out in a few days; he
was in excellent good humour, only complained to
me of the neglect of Guiscard's cure, how glad he
would have been to have had him live. Mr. Secre-
tary came in to us, and we were very merry till lord
chamberlain (duke of Shrewsbury) came up; then
colonel Masham and I went off, after I had been
presented to the duke, and that we made two or
three silly compliments suitable to the occasion.
Then I attended at the house of commons about
your yarn, and 'tis again put off. Then Ford drew
ine to dine at a tavern; it happened to be the day
and the house where the October club dine. After
we had dined, coming down, we called to inquire
whether our yarn business had been over that day,
and I sent into the room for sir George Beaumont.
But I had like to be drawn into a difficulty; for in
two minutes out comes Mr. Finch, lord Guernsey's
son, to let me know that my lord Compton, the
steward of this feast, desired, in the name of the
club, that I would do them the honour to dine with
them. I sent my excuses, adorned with about thirty
compliments, and got off as fast as I could. It would
have been a most improper thing for me to dine
there, considering my friendship for the ministry.
The club is about a hundred and fifty, and near
eighty of them were then going to dinner at two
long tables in a great ground room. At evening I
went to the auction of Bernard's books, and laid out
three pounds three shillings, but I'll go there no
more; and so I said once before, but now I'll keep
to it. I forgot to tell that when I dined at Webb's
with lord Anglesea, I spoke to him of Clements, as
one recommended for a very honest gentleman and
good officer, and hoped he would keep him; he said
he had no thought otherwise, and that he should
certainly hold his place while he continued to de-
serve it; and I could not find there had been any
intentions from his lordship against him. But I
tell you, hunny, the impropriety of this. A great
man will do a favour for me, or for my friend,
but why should he do it for my friend's friend?
Recommendations should stop before they come to
that. Let any friend of mine recommend one of his
to me for a thing in my power, I will do it for his
sake; but to speak to another for my friend's friend,
is against all reason; and I desire you will under-
stand this, and discourage any such troubles given
me. I hope this may do some good to Clements, it
can do no hurt; and I find by Mrs. Pratt that her
husband is his friend; and the bishop of Clogher
says, Clements' danger is not from Fratt, but from
some other enemies, that think him a Whig.
14. I was so busy this morning that I did not go
out till late. I writ to-day to the duke of Argyle,
but said nothing of Bernage, who, I believe, will t
see him till Spain is conquered, and that is not at
all. I was to-day at lord Shelburne's, and spoke to
Mrs. Pratt again about Clements: her husband
himself wants some good offices, and I have done
him very good ones lately, and told Mrs. Pratt I
expected her husband would stand by Clements in
return. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined with
neighbour Vanhomrigh: he is mighty ill of an asthma,
and apprehends himself in much danger: 'tis his own
fault, that will rake and drink when he is but just
crawled out of his grave. I will send this letter just
now, because I think my half-year is out for my
lodging; and, if you please, I would be glad it were
paid off, and some deal boxes made for my books,
and kept in some safe place. I would give some-
thing for their keeping, but I doubt that lodging
will not serve me when I come back: I would have
a larger place for books, and a stable, if possible.
So pray be so kind to pay the lodging, and all ac-
counts about it; and get Mrs. Brent to put up my
things. I would have no books put in that trunk
where my papers are. If you do not think of going
to the Bath, I here send you a bill on Parvisol for
twenty pounds Irish, out of which you will pay for
the lodging, and score the rest to me.
Do as you
please, and love poor Presto, that loves MD better
than his life a thousand millions of times. Fare-
well, MD, &c. &c.
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIRST.
London, April 14, 1711.
REMEMBER, sirrahs, that there are but nine days be-
tween the dates of my two former letters.
I sent
away my 20th this moment, and now am writing on
like a fish, as if nothing was done. But there was a
cause for my hasting away my last, for fear it should
not come time enough before a new quarter began.
I told you where I dined to-day, but forgot to tell
you what I believe, that Mr. Harley will be lord-
treasurer in a short time, and other great removes
and promotions made. This is my thought, &c.
15. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, aud
he is grown pretty well. I dined with him to-day,
and drank some of that wine which the great duke
of Tuscany used to send to sir William Temple: he
always sends some to the chief ministers. I liked
it mightily, but he does not; and he ordered his
butler to send me a chest of it to-morrow. Would
to God MD had it. The queen is well again, and
was at chapel to-day, &c.
16. I went with Ford into the city to-day, and
dined with Stratford, and drank tockay, and then
we went to the auction; but I did not lay out above
twelve shillings. My head is a little out of order
to-night, though no formal fit. My lord-keeper has
sent to invite me to dinner to-morrow, and you'll
dine better with the dean, and God bless you. I
forgot to tell you that yesterday was sent me a nar-
rative printed, with all the circumstances of Mr.
Harley's stabbing. I had not time to do it myself,
186
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
nothing of it. Dr. Freind and I dined in the city
at a printer's, but it cost me two shillings in coach-
hire, and a great deal more this week and month,
which has been almost all rain, with now and then
sunshine, and is the truest April that I have known
these many years.
The lime-trees in the park are
so I sent my hints to the author of the Atlantis Savoy set up for Spain; but I believe he will make
[Mrs. Manley], and she has cooked it into a six-nothing of it.
penny pamphlet, in her own style, only the first page
is left as I was beginning it. But I was afraid of
disobliging Mr. Harley or Mr. St. John in one critical
point about it, and so would not do it myself. It is
worth your reading, for the circumstances are all true.
My chest of Florence was sent me this morning, and
cost me seven and sixpence to two servants.
would give two guineas you had it, &c.
I
17. I was so out of order with my head this morn-
ing, that I was going to send my excuses to my lord-
keeper; but, however, I got up at eleven, and walked
there after two, and stayed till eight. There was
sir Thomas Mansel, Prior, George Granville, and
Mr. Cæsar, and we were very merry. My head is
My head is
still wrong, but I have had no formal fit, only I
totter a little. I have left off snuff altogether. I
have a noble roll of tobacco for grating, very good.
Shall I send it to MD, if she likes that sort? My
lord-keeper and our this day's company are to dine
on Saturday with George Granville, and to-morrow
I dine with lord Anglesea.
18. Did you ever see such a blundering goosecap
as Presto! I saw the number 21 atop, and so I went
on as if it were the day of the month, whereas this
is but Wednesday the 18th. How shall I do to blot
and alter them? I have made a shift to do it behind,
but it is a great botch. I dined with lord Anglesea
to-day, but did not go to the house of commons about
the yarn; my head was not well enough. I know
not what's the matter; it has never been thus before:
two days together giddy from morning till night, but
not with any violence or pain; and I totter a little,
but can make shift to walk. I doubt I must fall to my
pills again; I think of going into the country a little
way. I tell you what you must do henceforward:
you must enclose your letter in a fair half-sheet of
paper, and direct the outside to Erasmus Lewis,
esquire, at my lord Dartmouth's office at Whitehall;
for I never go to the coffeehouse, and they will
grudge to take in
my letters.
I forgot to tell you
that your mother was to see me this morning, and
brought me a flask of sweet water for a present, ad-
mirable for my head; but I shall not smell to it.
She is going to Sheen with lady Giffard: she would
fain send your papers over to you, or give them to
me. Say what you would have done, and it shall
be done; because I love Stella, and she is a good
daughter, they say, and so is Dingley.
19. This morning general Webb was to give me
a visit; he goes with a crutch and a stick, yet was
forced to make up two pair of stairs. I promised to
dine with him, but afterward sent my excuses, and
dined privately in my friend Lewis's lodgings at
Whitehall, with whom I had much business to talk
of relating to the public and myself. Little Harrison
the Tatler goes to-morrow to the secretaryship I
got him at the Hague, and Mr. St. John has made
him a present of fifty guincas to bear his charges.
An't I a good friend? Why are not you a young
fellow, that I might prefer you? I had a letter from
Bernage from Kinsale: he tells me his commission for
captain-lieutenant was ready for him at his arrival;
so there are two jackanapeses I have done with. My
head is something better this evening, though not well.
20. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, whose
packets were just come in, and among them a letter
from lord Peterborow to me: he writes so well I
have no mind to answer him, and so kind that I
must answer him. The emperor's death must, I
think, cause great alterations in Europe, and, I be-
liere, will hasten a peace. We reckon our king
Charles will be chosen emperor, and the duke of
|
all out in leaves, though not large leaves yet. Wise
people are going into the country; but many think
the parliament can hardly be up these six weeks.
Mr. Harley was with the queen on Tuesday. I be-
lieve certainly he will be the lord-treasurer: I have
not seen him this week.
Mor-
21. Morning,-Lord-keeper, and I, and Prior,
and sir Thomas Mansel, have appointed to dine this
day with George Granville. My head, I thank
God, is better; but to be giddyish three or four
days together mortified me. I take no snuff, and I
will be very regular in eating little, and the gentlest
meats. How does poor Stella just now, with her deans
and her Stoytes? Do they give you health for the
money you lose at ombre, sirrah? What say you to
that? Poor Dingley frets to see Stella lose that four
and elevenpence t'other night. Let us rise.
row, sirrahs. I will rise in spite of your little teeth;
good morrow. At night.-0, faith, you are little
dear sauceboxes. I was just going in the morning
to tell you that I began to want a letter from MD,
and in four minutes after Mr. Ford sends me one
that he had picked up at St. James's coffeehouse
for I go to no coffeehouse at all. And faith I was
glad at heart to see it, and to see Stella o brisk.
Lord, what pretending? Well, but I won't answer
it yet; I'll keep it for t'other side. Well, we dined
to-day according to appointment; lord-keeper went
away at near eight, I at eight, and I believe the rest
will be fairly fuddled; for young Harcourt, lord-
keeper's son, began to prattle before I came away.
It will not do with Prior's lean carcase. I driuk
little, miss my glass often, put water in my wine,
and go away before the rest, which I take to be a
good receipt for sobriety. Let us put it into rhyme,
and so make a proverb:
O
Drink little at a time;
Miss your glass when you can,
Put water with your wine. And go off the first man.
God be thanked, I am much better than I was,
though something of a totterer. I ate but little to-
day, and of the gentlest meat. I refused ham and
pigeons, pease-soup, stewed beef, cold salmou, be-
cause they were too strong. I take no snuff at all,
but some herb-snuff prescribed by Dr. Radcliffe.
Go to your deans, you couple of queans.
I believe I said that already. What care I? what
cares Presto?
0,
22. Morning. I must rise and go to the secretary's.
Mr. Harley has been out of town this week to re-
fresh himself before he comes into parliament.
but I must rise, so there is no more to be said; and
so morrow, sirrahs both. Night.-I dined to-day
with the secretary, who has engaged me for every
Sunday; and I was an hour with him this morning
deep in politics, where I told him the objections of
the October Club, and he answered all except one,
That no inquiries are made into past mismanage-
ment. But, indeed, I believe they are not yet able
to make any; the late ministry were too cunning in
their rogueries, and fenced themselves with an act
of general pardon. I believe Mr. Harley must be
lord-treasurer, yet he makes only one difficulty which
is hard to answer; he must be made a lord, and his
estate is not large enough, and he is too generous to
make it larger; and if the ministry should change
soon by any accident, he will be left in the suds.
Another difficulty is, that if he be made a peer they
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
187
will want him prodigiously in the house of commons,
of which he is the great mover, and after him the
secretary, and hardly any else of weight. Two
shillings more to-day for coach and chair.
be ruined.
I shall
than ne need; but I must be content. The best is.
I lodge just over against Dr. Atterbury's house, and
yet perhaps I shall not like the place the better for
that. Well, I'll stay till to-morrow before I answer
your letter; and you must suppose me always writ-
say London. This letter goes on Saturday, which
will be just a fortnight; so go and cheat Goody
Stoyte, &c.
23. So you expect an answer to your letter, doing at Chelsea from henceforward, till I alter, and
you so? Yes, yes, you shall have an answer, you
shall, young women. I made a good pun on Satur-
day to my lord-keeper. After dinner we had coarse
Doiley napkins, fringed at each end, upon the table
to drink with: my lord-keeper spread one of them
between him and Mr. Prior; I told him I was glad
to see there was such a fringeship (friendship) be-
tween Mr. Prior and his lordship. Prior swore
was the worst he had ever heard :" I said "I thought
so too;" but at the same time I thought it was most
like one of Stella's that ever I heard. I dined to-
day with lord Mountjoy, and this evening saw the
Venetian ambassador coming from his first public
audience. His coach was the most moustrous, huge,
fine, rich, gilt thing that ever I saw. I loitered this
evening, and came home late.
it
24. I was this morning to visit the duchess of Or-
mond, who has long desired it, or threatened she
would not let me visit her daughters. I sat an hour
with her, and we were good company, when in came
the countess of Bellamont, with a pox. I went out,
and we did not know one another, yet hearing me
named, she asked, "What, is that Dr. Swift?" said
she: "he and I were very well acquainted ;" and fell
railing at me without mercy, as a lady told me that
was there; yet I never was but once in the company
of that drab of a countess. Sir Andrew Fountaine
and I dined with my neighbour Van. I design, in
two days, if possible, to go lodge at Chelsea for the
air, and put myself under a necessity of walking to
and from London every day. I writ this post to
the bishop of Clogher a long politic letter to entertain
him. I am to buy statues and harnese [Farnese] for
them, with a vengeance. I have packed and sealed up
MD's twelve letters against I go to Chelsea. I have
put the last commissions of MD in my account-book;
but if there be any former ones, I have forgot them.
I have Dingley's pocket-book down, and Stella's
green silk apron, and the pound of tea; pray send
me word if you have any other, and down they shall
go. I will not answer your letter yet, saucy boxes.
You are with the dean just now, madam Stella,
losing your money. Why don't you name what
number you have received? you say you have re-
ceived my letters, but don't tell the number.
25. I was this day dining in the city with very
insignificant, low, and scurvy company. I had a
letter from the archbishop of Dublin, with a long
denial of the report raised on him, which yet has
been since assured to me by those who say they have
it from the first hand; but I cannot believe them.
I will show it to the secretary to-morrow. I will
not answer yours till I get to Chelsea.
26. Chelsea.-I have sent two boxes of lumber to
my friend Darteneuf's house, and my chest of Flor-
ence and other things to Mrs. Vanhomrigh, where I
dined to-day. I was this morning with the secretary,
and showed him the archbishop's letter, and convinced
him of his grace's innocence, and I will do the same
to Mr. Harley. I got here in the stage-coach with
Patrick and my portmantua for sixpence, and pay
six shillings a week for one silly room with con-
founded coarse sheets. We have had such a horri-
ble deal of rain, that there is no walking to London,
and I must go as I came until it mends; and besides,
the whelp has taken my lodging as far from London
as this town could afford, at least half a mile farther
That is, among the ministry.
books.a
tain.
a
27. Do you know that I fear my whole chest of
Florence is turned sour, at least the two first flasks
were so, and hardly drinkable. How plaguy unfor-
tunate am I and the secretary's own is the best I
ever tasted; and I must not tell him, but be as
thankful as if it were the best in Christendom. I
went to town in the sixpenny stage to-day, and
hearing Mr. Harley was not at home, I went to see
him, because I knew by the message of his lying
porter that he was at home. He was very well, and
just going out, but made me promise to dine with
him; and between that, and indeed strolling about,
I lost four pound seven shillings at play with a
a bookseller, and got but half a dozen
I will buy no more books now, that's cer-
Well, I dined at Mr. Harley's, came away at
six, shifted my gown, cassock, and periwig, and
walked hither to Chelsea, as I always design to do
when it is fair. I am heartily sorry to find my friend
the secretary stands a little ticklish with the rest of
the ministry: there have been one or two disobliging
things that have happened, too long to tell : and t'other
day in parliament, upon a debate of about thirty-five
millions that have not been duly accounted for, Mr.
Secretary, in his warmth of speech, and zeal for his
friend Mr. Brydges, on whom part of the blame was
falling, said, "he did not know that either Mr. Brydges
or the late ministry were at all to blame in this mat-
ter;" which was very desperately spoken, and giving
up the whole cause; for the chief quarrel against the
late ministry was the ill management of the treasure,
and was more than all the rest together. I had
heard of this matter, but Mr. Foley beginning to
discourse to-day at table, without naming Mr. St.
John, I turned to Mr. Harley, and said, "if the late
ministry were not to blame in that article, he (Mr.
Harley) ought to lose his head for putting the queen
upon changing them." He made it a jest: but by
some words dropped I easily saw that they take
things ill of Mr. St. John, and by some hints given
me from another hand that I deal with, I am afraid
the secretary will not stand long. This is the fate
of courts. I will, if I meet Mr. St. John alone on
Sunday, tell him my opinion, and beg him to set
himself right, else the consequences may be very
bad, for I see not how they can well want him nei-
ther, and he would make a troublesome enemy. But
enough of politics.
28. Morning.—I forgot to tell you that Mr. Har-
ley asked me yesterday how he came to disoblige
the archbishop of Dublin? upon which (having not
his letter about me) I told him what the bishop had
written to me on that subject, and desired I might
read him the letter some other time. But after all,
from what I have heard from other hands, I am afraid
the archbishop is a little guilty. Here is one Brent
Spencer, a brother of Mr. Proby's, who affirms it,
and says he has leave to do so from Chailes Deer-
ing, who heard the words; and Ingoldsby (lord-jus-
tice) abused the archbishop, &c. Well, but now
for your saucy letter: I have no room to answer it:
O yes; enough on t'other side. Are you no sicker?
Stella jeers Presto for not coming over by Christmas;
but indeed Stella does not jeer, but reproach poor,
This must have been at raffling for books.
188
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
poor Presto. And how can I come away, and the
first-fruits not finished? I am of opinion the duke
of Ormond will do nothing in them before he goes,
which will be in a fortnight they say: and then they
must fall to me to be done in his absence. No, in-
deed, I have nothing to print: you know they have
printed the Miscellanies already. Are they on
your side yet? If you have my snuff-box I'll
have your strong-box. Hi, docs Stella take snuff
again? or is it only because it is a fine box?
Not the Meddle, but the Medley, you fool. [A vio-
lent Whig journal.] Yes, yes, a wretched thing, be-
cause it is against you Tories: now I think it very
fine, and the Examiner a wretched thing.--Twist
your mouth, sirrah. Guiscard, and what you will
read in the narrative, I ordered to be written, and
nothing else. The Spectator is written by Steele.
with Addison's help: 'tis often very pretty. Yes-
terday it was made of a noble hint I gave him long
ago for his Tatlers, about an Indian supposed to
write his travels into England. I repent he ever
had it. I intended to have written a book on that
subject. I believe he has spent it all in one paper,
and all the under hints there are mine too: but I
never see him or Addison. The queen is well, but
I fear will be no long liver; for I am told she has
sometimes the gout in her bowels (I hate the word
bowels). My ears have been these three months
past much better than any time these two years; but
now they begin to be a little out of order again. My
head is better, though not right; but I trust to air
and walking. You have got my letter, but what
number? I suppose 18. Well, my shin has been
well this mouth. No, Mrs. Westley came away
without her husband's knowledge, while she was in
the country: she has written to me for some tea.—
They lie; Mr. Harley's wound was very terrible:
he had convulsions, and very narrowly escaped. The
bruise was nine times worse than the wound; he is
weak still. Well, Brooks married; I know all that.
I am sorry for Mrs. Walls' eye: I hope 'tis better.
O yes, you are great walkers; but I have heard them
"Much talkers, little walkers ;" and I believe
I may apply the old proverb to you-
say,
"If you talk'd no more than you walk'd,
Those that thuk you wits would be balk'd.”
Yes, Stella shall have a large-printed Bible: I have
put it down among my commissions for MD. I am
glad to hear you have taken the fancy of intending
to read the Bible. Pox take the box: is not it come
yet? this is trusting to your young fellows, young
women; 'tis your fault: I thought you had such
power with Sterne, that he would fly over Mount
Atlas to serve you. You say you are not splenetic;
but if you be, faith you will break poor Presto's
I won't say the rest; but I vow to God, if I could
decently come over now, I would, and leave all
schemes of politics and ambition for ever. I have
not the opportunities here of preserving my health
by riding, &c., that I have in Ireland; and the
want of health is a great cooler of making one's
You guess right about my being bit with a
direction from Walls, and the letter from MD: I be-
lieve I described it in one of my last. This goes to-
night; and I must now rise and walk to town, and
walk back in the evening. God Almighty bless and
preserve poor MD. Farewell.
court.
O faith, don't think, saucy noses, that I'll fill this
third side; I can't stay a letter above a fortnight:
it must go then; and you would rather see a short
one like this than want it a week longer.
My humble service to the dean, and Mrs. Walls, and
good kind hearty Mrs. Stoyte, and honest Catherine.
LETTER THE TWENTY-SECOND.
Chelsea, April 28, 1711,
I am
AT night. I say at night because I finished my 21st
this morning here, and put it into the post-office my
own self, like a good boy. I think I am a little be-
fore you now, young women: I am writing my 22nd,
and have received your 13th. I got to town between
twelve and one, and put on my new gown and peri-
wig, and dined with lord Abercorn, where I had not
been since the marriage of his son lord Paisley, who
has got ten thousand pounds with a wife.
now a country gentleman. I walked home as I
went, and am a little weary, and am got into bed.
I hope in God the air and exercise will do me a
little good. I have been inquiring about eratues for
Mrs. Ashe: I made lady Abercorn go with me; and
will send them word next post to Clogher. I hate
to buy for her: I'm sure she'll maunder.
I am go-
ing to study.
29. I had a charming walk to and from town to-
day: I washed, shaved, and all, and changed gown
and periwig, by half an hour after nine, and went
to the secretary, who told me how he had differed
with his friends in parliament: I apprehended this
I went to
division, and told him a great deal of it.
court, and there several mentioned it to me as what
they much disliked.
I dined with the secretary;
and we proposed some business of importance in the
afternoon, which he broke to me first, and said how
he and Mr. Harley were convinced of the necessity
of it; yet he suffered one of his under-secretaries to
come upon us after dinner, who stayed till six, aud
so nothing was done and what care I?
send to me the next time, and ask twice.
row I go to the election at Westminster school,
where lads are chosen for the university: they say
'tis a sight, and a great trial of wits. Our expedition
fleet is but just sailed: I believe it will come to no-
thing. Mr. Secretary frets at their tediousness, but
hopes great things from it, though he owns four or
five princes are in the secret; and for that reason I
fear it is no secret to France. There are eight regi-
ments; and the admiral is your Walker's brother,
the midy ife.
IIe shall
To-mor-
30. Morn.—I am here in a pretty pickle: it rains
hard; and the cunning natives of Chelsea have out-
witted me, and taken up all the three stage-coaches.
What shall I do? I must go to town: this is your
fault. I cannot walk: I'll borrow a coat. This is
the blind side of my lodging out of town; I must
expect such inconveniences as these. Faith I'll
walk in the rain.
gentleman's chaise by chance, and so went to town
Morrow. At night. I got a
for a shilling, and lie this night in town. I was at
the election of lads at Westminster to-day, and a
very silly thing it is; but they say there will be hne
doings to-morrow. I dined with Dr. Freind, the
second master of the school, with a dozen parsons
and others: Prior would make me stay. Mr.
Harley is to hear the election to-morrow; and we
are all to dine with tickets, and hear fine speeches.
'Tis terrible rainy weather again: I lie at a friend's
in the city.
May 1. I wish you a merry May-day, and a
thousand more. I was balked at Westminster; I
came too late: I heard no specches nor verses.
They would not let me into their dining-place for
want of a ticket; and I would not send in for one,
because Mr. Harley oxcused his coming, and Atter-
bury was not there; and I cared not for the rest:
and so my friend Lewis and I dined with Kit Mus-
grave, if you know such a man; and the weather
• Sir Chamberlain Walker, a celebrated accoucheur
A..
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
189
mending I walked gravely home this evening; and
so I design to walk and walk till I am well: I fancy
myself a little better already. How does poor
Stella? Dingley is well enough. Go, get you gone,
naughty girl, you are well enough. O dear MD,
contrive to have some share of the country this
spring go to Finglas, or Donnybrook, or Clogher,
or Killala, or Lowth. Have you got your box yet?
Yes, yes.
Don't write to me again till this letter
goes: I must make haste, that I may write two for
one. Go to the Bath: I hope you are now at the
Bath, if you had a mind to go; or go to Wexford:
do something for your living. Have you given up
my lodging according to order? I have had just
now a compliment from dean Atterbury's lady, to
command the garden and library, and whatever the
house affords. I lodge just over against them; but
the dean is in town with his convocation: so I have
my dean and prolocutor as well as you, young wo-
men, though he has not so good wine nor so much
meat.
2. A fine day, but begins to grow a little warm;
and that makes your little fat Presto sweat in the
forehead. Pray, are not the fine buns sold here in
our town; was it not Rrrrrrrrrrare Chelsea Buns ?
I bought one to-day in my walk; it cost me а
penny it was stale, and I did not like it, as the
man said, &c. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined
at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's; and had a flask of my Flo-
rence, which lies in their cellar; and so I came home
gravely, and saw nobody of consequence to-day. I
am very easy here, nobody plaguing me in a morn-
ing; and Patrick saves many a score lies. I sent
over to Mrs. Atterbury, to know whether I might
wait on her? but she is gone a visiting: we have
exchanged some compliments, but I have not seen
her yet. We have no news in our town.
3. I did not go to town to-day, it was so terrible
rainy; nor have I stirred out of my room till eight
this evening; when I crossed the way to see Mrs.
Atterbury, and thank her for her civilities. She
would needs send me some veal, and small beer, and
ale, to-day at dinner; and I have lived a scurvy,
dull, splenetic day, for want of MD: I often
thought how happy I could have been had it rained
eight thousand times more, if MD had been with a
body. My lord Rochester is dead this morning;
they say at one o'clock; and I hear he died sud-
denly. To-morrow I shall know more.
great loss to us: I cannot think who will succeed
him as lord-president. I have been writing a long
letter to lord Peterborow, and am dull.
He is a
any
4. I dined to-day at lord Shelburne's, where lady
Kerry made me a present of four India handker-
chiefs, which I have a mind to keep for little MD,
only that I had rather, &c. I have been a mighty
handkerchief-monger, and have bought abundance
of snuff once since I have left off taking snuff. And
I am resolved, when I come over, MD shall be ac-
quainted with lady Kerry: we have struck up a mighty
friendship, and she has much better sense than
other lady of your country. We are almost in love
with one another: but she is most egregiously ugly ;
but perfectly well bred, and governable as I please. I
am resolved, when I come, to keep no company but
MD; you know I kept my resolution last time; and,
except Mr. Addison, conversed with none but you
and your club of deans and Stoytes. 'Tis three
weeks, young women, since I had a letter from you;
and yet, methinks, I would not have another for five
pound till this is gone; and yet I send every day to
the coffeehouse, and I would fain have a letter,
and not have a letter; and I don't know what,
nor I don't know how; and this goes on very slow;
'tis a week to-morrow since I began it. la am a poor
country gentleman, and don't know how the world
passes. Do you know that every syllable I write I
hold my lips just for all the world as if I were talk-
ing in our own little language to MD. Faith, I am
very silly; but I can't help it for my life. I got
home early to-night. My solicitors, that used to
ply me every morning, knew not where to find me;
and I am so happy not to hear Patrick, Patrick,
called a hundred times every morning. But I look-
ed backward, and find I have said this before. What
care I go to the dean and roast the oranges.
5. I dined to-day with my friend Lewis, and we
were deep in politics how to save the present mi-
nistry; for I am afraid of Mr. Secretary, as I believe
I told you.
I went in the evening to see Mr. Har-
ley; and upon my word I was in perfect joy. Mr.
Secretary was just going out of the door; but I
made him come back, and there was the old Satur-
day club, lord-keeper, lord Rivers, Mr. Secretary,
Mr. Harley, and I; the first time since his stabbing.
Mr. Secretary went away; but I stayed till nine,
and made Mr. Harley show me his breast, and tell
all the story and I showed him the archbishop of
Dublin's letter, and defended him effectually. We
were all in mighty good humour.-Lord-keeper and
I left them together, and I walked here after nine,
two miles, and I found a parson drunk fighting with
a seaman, and Patrick and I were so wise to part
them, but the seaman followed him to Chelsea,
cursing at him, and the parson slipped into a house,
and I know no more. It mortified me to see a man
in my coat so overtaken.-A pretty scene for one
that just came from sitting with the prime ministers:
I had no money in my pocket, and so could not be
robbed. However, nothing but Mr. Harley shall
make me take such a journey again. We don't yet
know who will be president in lord Rochester's
room. I measured, and found that the penknife
would have killed Mr. Harley, if it had gone but
half the breadth of my thumb-nail lower; so near
was he to death. I was so curious to ask him what
were his thoughts while they were carrying him
home in the chair. He said, he concluded himself
a dead man. He will not allow that Guiscard gave
him the second stab, though my lord-keeper, who is
blind, and I that was not there, are positive in it.
He wears a plaster still as broad as half-a-crown.
Smoke how wide the lines are, but faith I don't do
it on purpose: but I have changed my side in this
new Chelsea bed, and I don't know how methinks,
but it is so unfit, and so awkward, never saw the like.
6. You must remember to enclose your letters in
a fair paper, and direct the outside thus:~To Eras-
mus Lewis, esq., at my lord Dartmouth's office at
Whitehall; I said so before, but it may miscarry,
you know, yet I think none of my letters did ever
miscarry; faith I think never one, among all the
privateers and the storms: O faith, my letters are
too good to be lost.
MD's letters may tarry,
But never miscarry,
as the old woman used to say. And indeed, how
should they miscarry, when they never come before
their time?
their time? It was a terrible rainy day; yet I made
a shift to steal fair weather over head enough to go
and come in. I was early with the secretary, and
dined with him afterward. In the morning I began
to chide him, and tell him my fears of his proceed-
ings. But Arthur Moore came up and relieved
him.
But I forgot, for you never heard of Arthur
Moore. But when I get Mr. Harley alone I will
Brother to the earl of Drogheda, lord commissioner of trade,
30th Sept., 1710.
A
190
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
know the bottom. You will have Dr. Raymond
over before this letter, and what care you? દ
7. I hope and believe my walks every day do me
good. I was busy at home, and set out late this
morning, and dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, at
whose lodgings I always change my gown and peri-
wig. I visited this afternoon, and, among others,
poor Biddy Floyd, who is very red, but I believe
won't be much marked. As I was coming home I
met sir George Beaumont in the Pall-mall, who
would needs walk with me as far as Buckingham-
house. I was telling him of my head: he said he
had been ill of the same disorder, and by all means
forbid me bohea tea, which, he said, always gave it
him; and that Dr. Ratcliffe said it was very bad.
Now I had observed the same thing, and have left
it off this month, having found myself ill after it
several times; and I mention it that Stella may
consider it for her poor own little head: a pound
lies ready packed up, and directed for Mrs. Walls,
to be sent by the first convenience.
Mr. Secretary
told me yesterday that Mr. Harley would this week
be lord-treasurer and a peer, so I expect it every
day; yet perhaps it may not be till parliament is
up, which will be in a fortnight.
8. I was to-day with the duke of Ormond, and
recommended to him the case of poor Joe Beau-
mout, who promises me to do him all justice and fa-
vour, and give him encouragement: and desired I
would give a memorial to Ned Southwell about it,
which I will, and so tell Joe when you see him,
though he knows it already by a letter I writ to Mr.
Warburton. It was bloody hot walking to-day. I
dined in the city, and went and came by water; and it
rained so this evening again, that I thought I should
hardly be able to get a dry hour to walk home in.
I'll send to-morrow to the coffeehouse for a letter
from MD; but I would not have one, methinks, till
this is gone, as it shall on Saturday. I visited the
duchess of Ormond this morning; she does not go
over with the duke. I spoke to her to get a lad
touched for the evil, the son of a grocer in Capel-
street, one Bell; the ladies have bought sugar and
plums of him. Mrs. Mary used to go there often.
This is Patrick's account; and the poor fellow has
been here some months with his boy. But the
queen has not been able to touch, and it now grows
so warm I fear she will not at all.b Go, go, go to
the dean's, and let him carry you to Donnybrook,
and cut asparagus. Has Parvisol sent you any this
year? I cannot sleep in the beginnings of the
nights, the heat or something hinders me, and I am
drowsy in the mornings.
c
9. Dr. Freind came this morning to visit Atter-
bury's lady and children as a physician, and per-
suaded me to go with him to town in his chariot.
He told me he had been an hour before with sir
Cholmley Dering, Charles Dering's nephew, and
head of that family in Kent, for which he is knight
of the shire. He said he left him dying of a pistol-
shot quite through the body, by one Mr. Thornhill.d
-They fought at sword and pistol this morning in
Tuttle-fields their pistols so near that the muzzles
touched. Thornhill discharged first, and Dering,
having received the shot, discharged his pistol as
he was falling, so it went into the air. The story of
this quarrel is long. Thornhill had lost seven teeth
by a kick in the mouth from Dering, who had first
$
a Dr. Swift's curate at Laiacor.
↳ Queen Anne was the last sovereign who practised this su-
perstition.
© From Swift's garden at Laracor.
d Mr. Richard Thornhill was tried at the Old Bailey, May
18, 1711, and found guilty of manslaughter. He was soon
after killer, ou Turnham green. See Journal, Aug. 21
knocked him down: this was above a fortnight ago
Dering was next week to be married to a fine young
lady. This makes a noise here, but you won't value
it. Well, Mr. Harley, lord-keeper, and one or twe
more, are to be made lords immediately, their pa-
tents are now passing, and I read the preamble
[written by the dean] to Mr. Harley's, full of his
praises. Lewis and I dined with Ford; I found
the wine two flasks of my Florence, and two bot-
tles of six that Dr. Raymond sent me of French
wine; he sent it to me to drink with sir Robert
Raymond and Mr. Harley's brother, whom I had
introduced him to; but they never could find time
to come and now I have left the town, and it is
too late.-Raymond will think it a cheat. What
care I, sirrah ?
10. Pshaw, pshaw, Patrick brought me four let-
ters to-day from Dilly at Bath; Joe; Parvisol
and, what was the fourth, who can tell? Stand
away, who'll guess? who can it be? You, old man
with a stick, can you tell who the fourth is from?
Iss, an please your honour, it is from one madam
MD, No. 14. Well; but I can't send this away
now, because it was here, and I was in town, but it
shall go on Saturday, and this is Thursday night,
and it will be time enough for Wexford.-Take my
method: I write here to Parvisol to lend Stella
twenty pounds, and to take her note promissory to
pay it in half a year, &c. You shall see, and if you
want more let me know afterward; and be sure my
money shall be always paid constantly too.
you been good or ill housewives, pray?
Have
11. Joe has written to me to get him a collector's
place, nothing else; he says all the world knows of
my great intimacy with Mr. Harley, and that the
smallest word to him will do. This is the constant
cant of puppies who are at a distance, and strangers
to courts and ministers. My answer is this; which
pray send: That I am ready to serve Joe as far as I
can; that I have spoken to the duke of Ormond
about his money, as I writ to Warburton; that, for
the particular he mentions, it is a work of time
which I cannot think of at present. But if accidents
and opportunities should happen hereafter. I would
not be wanting; that I know best how far my credit
goes; that he is at a distance, and cannot judge;
that I would be glad to do him good; and, if for-
tune throws an opportunity in my way, I shall not
be wanting. This is my answer; which you may
send or read to him. Pray contrive that Parvisol
may not run away with my two hundred pounds,
but get Burton's [a celebrated Dublin banker] note,
and let the money be returned me by bill. Don't
laugh, for I will be suspicious. Teach Parvisol to
enclose, and direct the outside to Mr. Lewis. I
will answer your letter in my next, only what I take
notice of here excepted. I forgot to tell you that
at the court of requests to-day I could not find a
dinner I liked, and it grew late, and I dined with
Mrs. Vanhomrigh, &c.
12. Morning. I will finish this letter before I go
to town, because I shall be busy, and have neither
time nor place there. Farewell, &c. &c.
LETTER THE TWENTY-THIRD.
Chelsea, May 12, 1711.
1
I SENT you my 22nd this afternoon in town.
dined with Mr. Harley and the old club, lord Rivers,
lord-keeper, and Mr. Secretary.-They rallied me
last week, and said I must have Mr. St. John's
leave, so I writ to him yesterday, that, foreseeing I
should never dine again with sir Simon Harcourt,
knight, and Robert Harley esa, I was resolved to
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
191
J
Mr.
do it to-day. The jest is, that before Saturday next
we expect they will be lords; for Mr. Harley's
patent is drawing to be earl of Oxford.
Secretary and I came away at seven, and he brought
me to our town's end in his coach; so I lost my
walk. St. John read my letter to the company,
which was all raillery, and passed purely.
13. It rained all last night and this morning as
heavy as lead; but I just got fair weather to walk
to town before church. The roads are all over in
deep puddle. The hay of our town is almost fit to
be mowed. I went to court after church, (as I al-
ways do on Sundays,) and then dined with Mr.
Secretary, who has engaged me for every Sunday,
and poor MD dined at home upon a bit of veal and
a pint of wine. Is it not plaguy insipid to tell you
every day when I dine? yet now I have got into the
way of it, I cannot forbear it neither. Indeed, Mr.
Presto, you had better go answer MD's letter, No.
14. I'll answer it when I please, Mr. Doctor.
What's that you say? The court was very full this
morning, expecting Mr. Harley would be declared
earl of Oxford, and have the treasurer's staff. Mr.
Harley never comes to court at all; somebody there
asked me the reason; Why, said I, the lord of Ox-
ford knows. He always goes to the queen by the
back stairs. I was told for certain your jackanapes,
lord Santry, was dead; captain Cammock assured
me so; and now he's alive again, they say; but
that shan't do; he shall be dead to me as long as
he lives. Dick Tighe and I meet and never stir our
hats. I am resolved to mistake him for Withering-
ton, the little nasty lawyer that came up to me so
sternly at the castle the day I left Ireland. I'll ask
the gentleman I saw walking with him how long
Witherington has been in town.
14. I went to town to-day by water.
The hail
quite discouraged me from walking, and there is no
shade in the greatest part of the way: I took the
first boat, and had a footman my companion; then
went again by water, and dined in the city with a
printer, to whom I carried a pamphlet in manuscript
that Mr. Secretary gave me. The printer sent it to
the secretary for his approbation, and he desired me
to look it over, which I did, and found it a very
scurvy piece. The reason I tell you so is, because
it was done by your parson Slap, Scrap, Flap, (what
d'ye call him?) Trap, your chancellor's chaplain.
'Tis called" A Character of the present Set of Whigs,"
and is going to be printed, and no doubt the author
will take care to produce it in Ireland. Dr. Freind,
was with me, and pulled out a twopenny pamphlet
just published called "The State of Wit," giving a
character of all the papers that have come out of late.
The author seems to be a Whig, yet he speaks very
highly of a paper called the Examiner, and says
the supposed author of it is Dr. Swift. But above
all things he praises the Tatlers and Spectators; and
I believe Steele and Addison were privy to the print-
ing of it. Thus is one treated by these impudent
dogs. And that villain Curl has scraped up some
trash, and calls it Dr. Swift's Miscellanies, with the
name at large, and I can get no satisfaction of him.
Nay, Mr. Harley told me he had read it, and only
laughed at me before lord-keeper and the rest.
Since I came home I have been sitting with the pro-
locutor, dean Atterbury, who is my neighbour over
the way; but generallly keeps in town with his con-
vocation. 'Tis late, &c.
15. My walk to town to-day was after ten, and
prodigiously hot: I dined with lord Shelburne, and
have desired Mrs. Pratt, who lodges there, to carry
over Mrs. Walls' tea; I hope she will do it, and
they talk of going in a fortnight. My way is this:
I leave my best gown and periwig at Mrs. Vanhom-
righ's, then walk up the Pall-mall, through the
park, out at Buckingham-house, and so to Chelsea
a little beyond the church: I set out about sunset,
and get here in something less than an hour; it is
two good miles, and just five thousand seven hundred
and forty-eight steps; so there is four miles a day
walking, without reckoning what I walk while I
stay in town. When I pass the Mall in the evening
it is prodigious to see the number of ladies walking
there; and I always cry shame at the ladies of Ire-
land, who never walk at all, as if their legs were of
no use but to be laid aside. I have been now almost
three weeks here, and I thank God am much better
in my head, if it does but continue. I tell you what;
if I was with you, when we went to Stoyte at
Donnybrook, we would only take a coach to the
hither end of Stephen's-green, and from thence
every step on foot, yes faith, every step; it would
do: DDa goes as well as Presto. Everybody tells
me I look better already; for faith I looked sadly,
that's certain. My breakfast is milk porridge: I
don't love it, faith I hate it, but 'tis cheap and whole-
some; and I hate to be obliged to either of those
qualities for anything.
go
16. I wonder why Presto will be so tedious in
answering MD's letters; because he would keep the
best to the last I suppose. Well, Presto must be
humoured, it must be as he will have it, or there will
be an old to do. Dead with heat, are not you very
hot? My walks make my forehead sweat rarely;
sometimes my morning journey is by water, as it
was to-day with one parson Richardson, who came
to see me, on his going to Ireland; and with him I
send Mrs. Walls' tea, and three books I got from the
lords of the treasury for the college [university of
Dublin]. I dined with lord Shelburne to-day;
lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt are going likewise for
Ireland.—Lord, I forgot, I dined with Mr. Prior to-
day, at his house, with dean Atterbury and others;
and came home pretty late, and I think I'm in a
fuzz, and don't know what I say, never saw the like.
17. Sterne came here by water to see me this
morning, and I went back with him to his boat.
He tells me that Mrs. Edgworth married a fellow
in her journey to Chester: so I believe she little
thought of anybody's box but her own. I desired
Sterne to give me directions where to get the box
in Chester, which he says he will to-morrow, and I
will write to Richardson to get it up there as he goes
by, and whip it over. It is directed to Mrs. Curry:
you must caution her of it, and desire her to send
it you when it comes. Sterne says Jemmy Leigh
loves London mightily: that makes him stay so long,
I believe, and not Sterne's business, which Mr.
Harley's accident has put much backward. We
expect now every day that he will be earl of Oxford
and lord-treasurer. His patent is passing; but they
say, lord-keeper's not yet, at least his son, young
Harcourt, told me so t'other day. I dined to-day
privately with my friend Lewis at his lodgings at
Whitehall. T'other day at Whitehall I met a lady
of my acquaintance, whom I had not seen before
since I came to England: we were mighty glad to
see each other, and she has engaged me to visit her,
as I design to do. It is one Mrs. Colledge: she has
lodgings at Whitehall, having been seamstress to
King William, worth three hundred a year. Her
father was a fanatic joiner, hanged for treason in
Shaftesbury's plot. This noble person and I were
brought acquainted, some years ago, by lady Berkeley.
I love good creditable acquaintance; I love to be
the worst of the company: I am not of those that
In this passage DD signifies both Dingley and Stella.
ย
192
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
say, for want of company, welcome trumpery. I | quaintance with him : however, he expected I should
was this evening with lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt at
Vauxhall, to hear the nightingales; but they are
almost past singing.
18. I was hunting the secretary to-day in vain
about some business, and dined with colonel Crowe,
late governor of Barbadoes, and your friend Sterne
was the third: he is very kind to Sterne, and helps
him in his business, which lies asleep till Mr. Harley
is lord-treasurer, because nothing of moment is now
done in the treasury, the change being expected every
day. I sat with dean Atterbury till one o'clock
after I came home; so 'tis late, &c.
19. Do you know that about our town we are
mowing already and making hay, and it smells so
sweet as we walk through the flowery meads; but
the hay-making nymphs are perfect drabs, nothing
so clean and pretty as farther in the country. There
is a mighty increase of dirty wenches in straw hats
since I knew London. I stayed at home till five
o'clock, and dined with dean Atterbury: then went
by water to Mr. Harley's, where the Saturday club
was met, with the addition of the duke of Shrews-
bury. I whispered lord Rivers that I did not like
to see a stranger among us; and the rogue told it
aloud: but Mr. Secretary said the duke writ to have
leave: so I appeared satisfied, and so we laughed.
Mr. Secretary told me the duke of Bukingham had
been talking to him much about me, and desired my
acquaintance. I answered, it could not be; for he
had not made sufficient advances. Then the duke
of Shrewsbury said he thought that duke was not
used to make advances. 1 said I could not help
that; for I always expected advances in proportion
to men's quality, and more from a duke than other
men. The duke replied that he did not mean any-
thing of his quality; which was handsomely said
enough, for he meant his pride and I have invented
a notion to believe that nobody is proud. At ten all
the company went away; and from ten till twelve
Mr. Harley and I sat together, where we talked
through a great deal of matters I had a mind to settle
with him, and then walked in a fine moonshine night
to Chelsea, where I got by one. Lord Rivers con-
jured me not to walk so late; but I would, because I
had no other way; but I had no money to lose.
:
20. By what lord-keeper told me last night, I find
he will not be made a peer so soon, but Mr. Harley's
patent for earl of Oxford is now drawing, and will
be done in three days. We made him own it, which
he did scurvily, and then talked of it like the rest.
Mr. Secretary had too much company with him to-
day; so I came away soon after dinner. I give no
man liberty to swear or talk b-dy, and I found
some of them were in constraint, so I left them to
themselves. I wish you a merry Whitsuntide, and
pray tell me how you pass away your time: but faith,
you are going to Wexford, aud I fear this letter is
too late; it shall go on Thursday, and sooner it can-
not, I have so much business to hinder me an-
swering yours. Where must I direct in your ab-
sence? Do you quit your lodgings?
21. Going to town this morning, I met in the Pall-
mall a clergyman of Ireland, whom I love very well,
and was glad to see, and with him a little jackanapes
of Ireland too, who married Nanny Swift, uncle
Adam's daughter, one Perry; perhaps you may have
heard of him, His wife has sent him here to get a
place from Lownds; because my uncle and Lownds
married two sisters, and Lownds is a great man here
in the treasury but by good luck I have no ac-
a
Gay addressed some humorous verses "To my very in-
geuions and worthy Friend William Lownds, Esq., Author of
that celebrated Treatise in folio, called the Land Tax Bill."
|
|
|
be his friend to Lownds, and one word of mine, &c. ;
the old cant. But I will not go two yards to help
him. I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, where I keep
my best gown and periwig to put on when I come to
town and be a spark.
22. I dined to-day in the city, and coming home
this evening I met sir Thomas Mansel and Mr. Lewis
in the park. Lewis whispered me that Mr. Harley's
patent for earl of Oxford was passed in Mr. secretary
St. John's office; so to-morrow or next day I sup-
pose he will be declared earl of Oxford, and have
the staff. This man has grown by persecutions,
turnings out, and stabbing. What waiting, and
crowding, and bowing, will be at his levee! yet if
human nature be capable of so much constancy, I
should believe he will be the same man still, bating
the necessary forms of grandeur he must keep up.
'Tis late, sirrahs, and I'll go sleep.
23. Morning. I sat up late last night, and waked
late to-day; but will now answer your letter in bed
before I go to town, and will send it to-morrow; for
perhaps you mayn't go so soon to Wexford. -No,
you are not out in your number: the last was No. 14,
and so I told you twice or thrice; will you never be
satisfied? What shall we do for poor Stella? Go to
Wexford, for God's sake: I wish you were to walk
there by three miles a-day, with a good lodging at every
mile's end. Walking has done me so much good that I
cannot but prescribe it often to poor Stella. Parvisol
has sent me a bill for fifty pounds, which I am sorry
for, naving not written to him for it, only mentioned it
two months ago; but I hope he will be able to tell
Jou
what I have drawn upon him for; he never sent me
any sum before but one bill of twenty pounds, half
You are welcome as my blood to every
a year ago.
farthing I have in the world; and all that grieves
me is, I am not richer, for MD's sake, as hope saved.
I suppose you give up your lodgings when you go
to Wexford; yet that will be inconvenient too: yet
I wish again you were under the necessity of ram-
bling the country till Michaelmas, faith. No, let
him keep the shelves, with a pox; yet they are ex-
acting people about those four weeks, or Mrs. Brent
may have the shelves, if she please. I am obliged
to your dean for his kind offer of lending me money
Will that be enough to say? A hundred people.
would lend me money, or to any man who has not
the reputation of a squanderer. O faith, I should
be glad to be in the same kingdom with MD, how-
ever, although you were at Wexford.
But I am
kept here by a most capricious fate, which I would
break through if I could do it with decency or
honour. To return without some mark of distinc-
tion would look extremely little; and I would like-
wise gladly be somewhat richer than I am. I will
say no more, but beg you to be easy till Fortune take
her course, and to believe that MD's felicity is the
great end I aim at in all my pursuits. And so let
us talk no more on this subject, which makes me
Believe
melancholy, and that I would fain divert.
me, no man breathing at present has less share of
happiness in life than I: I do not say I am unhappy
at all, but that everything here is tasteless to me for
want of being where I would be. And so a short.
sigh, and no more of this. Well, come, and let's
see what's next, young women. Pox take Mrs.
Edgworth and Sterne: I will take some methods.
about that box. What orders would you have me
give about the picture? Can't you do with it as if
it were your own? No, I hope Manley will keep
his place, for I hear nothing of sir Thomas Franklin's
Send nothing under cover to Mr. Ad-
losing his.
dison, but to Erasmus Lewis, esq., at my lord Dart-
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
193
80.
mouth's office at Whitehall. Direct your outside
Poor dear Stella, don't write in the dark nor
in the light neither, but dictate to Dingley; she is a
naughty healthy girl, and may drudge for both.
Are you good company together? and don't you
quarrel too often? Pray, love one another, and kiss
one another just now, as Dingley is reading this;
for you quarrelled this morning just after Mrs.
Marget had poured water on Stella's head: I heard
the little bird say so. Well, I have answered every-
thing in your letter that required it, and yet the
second side is not full. I'll come home at night,
and say more; and to-morrow this goes for certain.
Go, get you gone to your own chambers, and let
Presto rise like a modest gentleman, and walk to
town. I fancy I begin to sweat less in the forehead
by constant walking than I used to do; but then I
shall be so sunburnt, the ladies won't like me..
Come, let me rise, sirrahs. Morrow. At night.-I
dined with Ford to-day at his lodgings, and I found
wine out of my own cellar, some of my own chest of
the great duke's wine: it begins to turn. They say
wine with you in Ireland is half-a-crown a bottle.
'Tis as Stella says, nothing that once grows dear in
Ireland ever grows cheap again, except corn, with a
pox, to ruin the parson. I had a letter to-day from
the archbishop of Dublin, giving me farther thanks
about vindicating him to Mr. Harley and Mr. St.
John, and telling me a long story about your mayor's
election, wherein I find he has had a finger, and
given way to farther talk about him; but we know
nothing of it here yet. This walking to and fro,
and dressing myself, takes up so much of my time,
that I cannot go among company so much as for-
merly; yet what must a body do? I thank God I
yet continue much better since I left the town; I
know not how long it may last. I am sure it has
done me some good for the present. I do not totter
as I did, but walk firm as a cock, only once or twice
for a minute, I don't know how; but it went off,
and I never followed it. Does Dingley read my
hand as well as ever? Do you, sirrah? Poor Stella
must not read Presto's ugly small hand. Preserve
your eyes, if you be wise. Your friend Walls's tea
will go in a day or two toward Chester by one parson
Richardson. My humble service to her, and to
good Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine; and pray walk
while you continue in Dublin. I expect your next
but one will be from Wexford. God bless dearest
MD.
24. Morning.-Mr. Secretary has sent his groom
hither to invite me to dinner to-day, &c. God Al-
nighty for ever bless and preserve you both, and
give you health, &c. Amen. Farewell, &c.
Don't I often say the same thing two or three times
in the same letter, sirrah?
Great wits, they say, have but short memories;
that's good vile conversation.
LETTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH.
Chelsea, May 24, 1711.
MORNING. Once in my life the number of my letters
and of the day of the month is the same; that's
lucky, boys; that's a sign that things will meet, and
that we shall make a figure together.
together. What, will
you still have the impudence to say London, Eng-
land, because I say Dublin, Ireland? Is there no
difference between London and Dublin, saucy boxes?
I have sealed up my letter, and am going to town.
Morrow, sirrahs. At night. I dined with the
secretary to-day we sat down between five and
six. Mr. Harley's patent passed this morning; he
s now earl of Oxford, earl Mortimer, and lord Harley
YOL. I.
two.
of Wigmore castle. My letter was sealed, or I would
have told you this yesterday; but the public news
may tell it you. The queen, for all her favour, has
kept a rod for him in her closet this week; I sup-
pose he will take it from her though in a day or
At eight o'clock this evening it rained pro-
digiously, as it did from five; however, I set out,
and in half way the rain lessened, and I got home,
but tolerably wet; and this is the first wet walk
1 have had in a month's time that I am here:
but however I got to bed, after a short visit to
Atterbury.
25. It rained this morning, and I went to town
by water; and Ford and I dined with Mr. Lewis
by appointment. I ordered Patrick to bring my
gown and periwig to Mr. Lewis, because I designed
to go to see lord Oxford, and so I told the dog; but
he never came, though I stayed an hour longer than
I appointed; so I went in my old gown, and sat
with him two hours, but could not talk over some
business I had with him, so he has desired me to
dine with him on Sunday, and I must disappoint
the secretary. My lord set me down at a coffee-
house, where I waited for the dean of Carlisle's
chariot to bring me to Chelsea: for the dean did not
come himself, but sent me his chariot, which has
cost me two shillings to the coachman; and so I am
got home, and Lord knows what has become of
Patrick. I think I must send him over to you, for
he is an intolerable rascal. If I had come without
a gown he would have served me so, though my life
and preferment should have lain upon it; and I am
making a livery for him will cost me four pounds;
but I will order the tailor to-morrow to stop till
farther orders. My lord Oxford can't yet abide to
be called my lord: and when I called him my lord,
he called me Dr. Thomas Swift, which he always
does when he has a mind to teaze me. By a second
hand he proposed my being his chaplain, which I by
a second hand excused; but we had no talk of it to-
day; but I will be no man's chaplain alive. But I
must go and be busy.
26. I never saw Patrick till this morning, and
that only once, for I dressed myself without him ;
and when I went to town he was out of the way.
I immediately sent for the tailor, and ordered him
to stop his hand in Patrick's clothes till farther
orders. O, if it were in Ireland, I should have
turned him off ten times ago; and it is no regard
to him, but myself, that has made me keep him so
long. Now I am afraid to give the rogue his clothes.
What shall I do? I wish MD were here to entreat
for him, just here at the bed's side. Lady Ashburn-
ham has been engaging me this long time to dine
with her, and 1 set to-day apart for it; and whatever
was the mistake, she sent me word she was at dinner
and undressed, but would be glad to see me in the
afternoon; so I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and
would not go see her at all, in a huff. My fine
Florence is turning sour with a vengeance, and I
have not drunk half of it. As I was coming home
to-night, sir Thomas Mansel and Tom Harley met
me in the park, and made me walk with them till
nine, like unreasonable whelps; so I got not here
till ten; but it was a fine evening, and the footpath
clean enough already after this hard rain.
27. Going this morning to town, I saw two old
lame fellows walking to a brandy-shop, and when
they got to the door, stood a long time compliment-
ing who should go in first. Though this be no jest
to tell, it was an admirable one to see. I dined to-
day with my lord Oxford and the ladies, the new
countess, and lady Betty, who has been these three
days a lady born. My lord left us at seven, and i
194
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
had no time to speak to him about some affairs; but
he promises in a day or two we shall dine alone,
which is mighty likely, considering we expect every
moment that the queen will give him the staff, and
then he will be so crowded he will be good for no-
thing: for aught I know he may have it to-night at
council.
28. I had a petition sent me t'other day from one
Stephen Gernon, setting forth that he formerly
"that he formerly
lived with Harry Tenison, who gave him an em-
ployment of gauger; and that he was turned out
after Harry's death, and came for England, and is
now starving," or, as he expresses it, "that the staff
of life has been of late a stranger to his appetite."
To-day the poor fellow called, and I knew him very
well, a young slender fellow with freckles in his
face you must remember him; he waited at table
as a better sort of servant. I gave him a crown,
and promised to do what I could to help him to a
service, which I did for Harry Tenison's memory.
It was b hot walking to-day, and I was so lazy
I dined where my new gown was, at Mrs. Vanhom-
righ's, and came back like a fool, and the dean of
Carlisle has sat with me till eleven. Lord Oxford
has not the staff yet.
29. I was this morning in town by ten, though it
was shaving day, and went to the secretary about
some affairs, then visited the duke and duchess of
Ormond; but the latter was dressing to go out, and
I could not see her. My lord Oxford had the staff
given him this morning, so now I must call him lord
Oxford no more, but lord-treasurer: I hope he will
stick there; this is twice he has changed his name
this week; and I heard to-day in the city (where I
dined) that he will very soon have the garter.-
Prithee, don't you observe how strangely I have
changed my company and manner of living? I never
go to a coffeehouse; you hear no more of Addison,
Steele, Henley, lady Lucy, Mrs. Finch, lord Somers,
lord Halifax, &c. I think I have altered for the
better. Did I tell you the archbishop of Dublin has
writ me a long letter of a squabble in your town
about choosing a mayor, and that he apprehended
some censure for the share he had in it. I have not
heard anything of it here; but I shall not be always
able to defend him. We hear your bishop Hickman
is dead; but nobody here will do anything for me in
Ireland, so they may die as fast or slow as they
please. Well, you are constant to your deans, and
your Stoyte, and your Walls. Walls will have her
tea soon; parson Richardson is either going or gone
to Ireland, and has it with him. I hear Mr. Lewis
has two letters for ine: I could not call for them to-
day, but will to-morrow: and perhaps one of them
may be from our little MD, who knows, man? who
can tell? Many more unlikely thing has happened.
Pshaw, I write so plaguy little, I can hardly see
it myself. Write bigger, sirrah" Presto. No, but I
won't. O, you are a saucy rogue, Mr. Presto, you
are so impudent. Come, dear rogues, let Presto go
to sleep I have been with the dean, and 'tis near
twelve.
30. I am so hot and lazy after my morning's walk,
that I loitered at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, where my best
gown and periwig was, and out of mere listlessness.
dine there very often, so I did to-day; but I got
little MD's letter, No. 15 (you see, sirrahs, I re-
member to tell the number), from Mr. Lewis, and I
read it in a closet they lend me at Mrs. Van's, and
I find Stella is a saucy rogue and a great writer, and
can write finely still when her hand's in and her pen
good. When I came here to-night I had a mighty
mind to go swim after I was cool, for my lodging is
• These words in italics are written in a large round hand.
just by the river, and I went down with only my
nightgown and slippers on at eleven, but canie up
again; however, one of these nights I will venture.
31. I was so hot this morning with my walk that
I resolved to do so no more during this violent burn-
ing weather It is comical that now we happen to
have such heat to ripen the fruit, there has been the
greatest blast that ever was known, and almost all
the fruit is despaired of. I dined with lord Shel-
burne; lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt are going to
Ireland. I went this evening to lord-treasurer, and
sat about two hours with him in mixed company;
he left us and went to court, and carried two staves
with him, so I suppose we shall have a new lord-
steward or comptroller to-morrow; I smoked that
state secret out by that accident. I won't answer
your letter yet, sirrahs, no, I won't, madam.
I
June 1. I wish you a merry month of June.
dined again with the Vans and sir Andrew Fountaine.
I always give them a flask of my Florence, which
now begins to spoil, but 'tis near an end. I went
this afternoon to Mrs. Vedeau's, and brought away
madam Dingley's parchment and letter of attorney.
Mrs. Vedeau tells me she has sent the bill a fortnight
ago. I will give the parchment to Ben Tooke, and
you shall send him a letter of attorney at your leisure,
enclosed to Mr. Presto. Yes, I now think your
mackerel is full as good as ours, which I did not
think formerly. I was bit about the two staves, for
there is no new officer made to-day. This letter will
find you still in Dublin, I suppose, or at Donnybrook,
or losing your money at Walls' (how does she do ?).
2. I missed this day by a blunder, and dining in
the city.a
3. No boats on Sunday, never: so I was forced to
walk, and so hot by the time I got to Ford's lodging,
that I was quite spent; I think the weather is mad.
I could not go to church. I dined with the secretary
as usual, and old colonel Graham that lived at Bag-
shot-heath, and they said it was colonel Graham's
house. Pshaw, I remember it very well, when I
used to go for a walk to London from Moor-park.
What, I warrant you don't remember the golden
farmer neither, Figgarkick Soley.
4. When must we answer this letter, this No. 15
of our little MD? Heat and laziness and sir Andrew
Fountaine made me dine to-day again at Mrs. Van's
and, in short, this weather is insupportable; how is
it with you? Lady Betty Butler and lady Ashburn-
ham sat with me two or three hours this evening in
my closet at Mrs. Van's. They are very good girls,
and if lady Betty went to Ireland you should let her
be acquainted with you. How does Dingley do this
hot weather? Stella, I think, never complains of it,
she loves hot weather. There has not been a drop
of rain since Friday se'ennight. Yes, you do love
hot weather, naughty Stella, you do so, and Presto
can't abide it. Be a good girl, then, and I'll love
you and love one another, and don't be quarrelling
girls.
5. I dined in the city to-day, and went from hence
early to town, and visited the duke of Ormond and
Mr. Secretary. They say my lord-treasurer has a
dead warrant in his pocket ; they mean a list of those
who are to be turned out of employment, and we
every day now expect those changes. I passed by
the treasury to-day, and saw vast crowds waiting to
give lord-treasurer petitions as he passes by. He is
now at the top of power and favour: he keeps no
levee yet. I am cruel thirsty this hot weather.--1
am just this minute going to swim. I take Patrick
down with me to hold my nightgown, shirt, and
slippers, and borrow a napkin of my landlady for a
This is interlined in the original.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
195
cap. So farewell till I come up; but there's no
danger, don't be frighted-I have been swimming
this half-hour and more; and when I was coming out
I dived, to make my head and all through wet, like
a cold bath; but as I dived the napkin fell off and
is lost, and I have that to pay for. O faith, the great
stones were so sharp, I could hardly set my feet on
them as I came out. It was pure and warm. I got
to bed, and will now go sleep.
6. Morning. This letter shall go to-morrow; so
I will answer yours when I come home to-night. I
feel no hurt from last night's swimming. I lie
with nothing but the sheet over me, and my feet
quite bare. I must rise and go to town before the
tide is against me. Morrow, sirrahs; dear sirrahs,
morrow. At night.-I never felt so hot a day as this
since I was born. I dined with lady Betty Germain,
and there was the young earl of Berkeley and his
fine lady. I never saw her before, nor think her
near so handsome as she passes for. After dinner
Mr. Bertue would not let me put ice in my wine;
but said, " my lord Dorchester got the bloody flux
with it, and that it was the worst thing in the world."
Thus are we plagued, thus are we plagued; yet I
have done it five or six times this summer, and was
but the drier and the hotter for it. Nothing makes
me so excessively peevish as hot weather. Lady
Berkeley after dinner clapped my hat on another
lady's head, and she in roguery put it upon the rails.
1 minded them not, but in two minutes they called
me to the window, and lady Carteret showed me my
hat out of her window five doors off, where I was
forced to walk to it, and pay her and old lady Wey-
mouth a visit, with some more beldames; then I
went and drank coffee, and made one or two puns
with lord Pembroke, and designed to go to lord-
treasurer; but it was too late, and besides I was half
broiled, and broiled without butter; for I never
sweat after dinner if I drink any wine. Then I sat
an hour with lady Betty Butler at tea, and everything
made me hotter and drier. Then I walked home,
and was here by ten, so miserably hot that I was in
as perfect a passion as ever I was in my life at the
greatest affront or provocation. Then I sat an hour
till I was quite dry and cool enough to go swim;
which I did, but with so much vexation, that I think
I have given it over: for I was every moment dis-
turbed by boats, rot them; and that puppy Patrick,
standing ashore, would let them come within a yard
or two, and then call sneakingly to them. The only
comfort I proposed here in hot weather is gone; for
there is no jesting with those boats after 'tis dark:
I had none last night. I dived to dip my head, and
held my cap on with both my hands, for fear of los-
ing it. Pox take the boats! Amen. 'Tis near
twelve, and so I'll answer your letter (it strikes
twelve now) to-morrow morning.
1
7. Morning.-Well, now let us answer MD's let-
ter, No. 15, 15, 15, 15. Now I have told you the
number 15, 15; there, impudence, to call names in
the beginning of your letter, before you say How
do you do, Mr. Presto ?-There's your breeding.
Where's your manners, sirrah, to a gentleman? Get
you gone, you couple of jades. No, I never sit up
late now but this abominable hot weather will
force me to eat or drink something that will do me
hurt. I do venture to eat a few strawberries. Why
then, do you know in Ireland that Mr. St. John
talked so in parliament? Your Whigs are plaguily
bit; for he is entirely for their being all out. And
are you as vicious in snuff as ever? I believe, as
you say, it does neither hurt nor good; but I have
left it off, and when anybody offers me their box I
take about a tenth part of what I used to do, and
then just smell to it, and privately fling the rest
away. I keep to my tobacco still, as you say; but
even much less of that than formerly, only mornings
and evenings, and very seldom in the day. As for
Joe, I have recommended his case heartily to my
lord-lieutenant; and, by his direction, given a me-
morial of it to Mr. Southwell, to whom I have re-
commended it likewise. I can do no more if he were
my brother.
His business will be to apply himself
to Southwell. And you must desire Raymond, if
Price of Galway comes to town, to desire him to
wait on Mr. Southwell as recommended by me for
one of the duke's chaplains, which was all I could
do for him; and he must be presented to the duke,
and make his court, and ply about and find out some
vacancy, and solicit early for it. The bustle about
your mayor I had before, as I told you, from the arch-
bishop of Dublin. Was Raymond not come till May
18? so he says fine things of me? certainly he lies.
I'm sure I used him indifferently enough, and we
never once dined together, or walked, or were in
any third place, only he came sometimes to my lodg-
ings, and even there was oftener denied than admit-
ted. What an odd bill [for 2007.] is that you sent
of Raymond's? a bill upon one Murry in Chester,
which depends entirely not only upon Raymond's
honesty, but his discretion; and in money matters
he is the last man I would depend on. Why should
sir Alexander Cairnes in London pay me a bill,
drawn by God knows who, upon Murry in Chester?
I was at Cairnes's, and they can do no such thing.
I went among some friends, who are merchants, and
I find the bill must be sent to Murry, accepted by
him, and then returned back, and then Cairnes may
accept or refuse it as he pleases. Accordingly I gave
sir Thomas Frankland the bill, who has sent it to
Chester, and ordered the postmaster there to get it
accepted, and then send it back, and in a day or two
I shall have an answer; and therefore this letter
must stay a day or two longer than I intended, and
see what answer I get. Raymond should have
written to Murry at the same time, to desire Alex-
ander Cairnes [an eminent banker] to have answered
such a bill, if it come. But Cairnes's clerks (him-
self was not at home) said that they had received no
notice of it, and could do nothing; and advised me
to send to Murry. I have been six weeks to-day at
Chelsea, and you know it but just now.
And so
dean thinks I write the Medley. Pox of his
judgment; 'tis equal to his honesty. Then you
han't seen the Miscellany yet? Why, 'tis a four-
shilling book has nobody carried it over? No, I
believe Manley will not lose his place : for his friend
in England is so far from being out, that he has
taken a new patent since the post-office act; and
his brother Jack Manley here takes his part firmly;
and I have often spoken to Southwell in his behalf,
and he seems very well inclined to him. But the
Irish folks here in general are horribly violent against
him. Besides, he must consider he could not send
Stella wine if he were put out. And so he is very
kind, and sends you a dozen bottles of wine at a
time, and you win eight shillings at a time; and
how much do you lose? No, no, never one syllable
about that, I warrant you. Why this same Stella
is so unmerciful a writer, she has hardly left any room
for Dingley. If you have such summer there as
here, sure the Wexford waters are good by this time.
I forgot what weather we had May 6th; go look in
my journal. We had terrible rain the 24th and
25th, and never a drop since. Yes, yes, I remember
He does not mean smoking, which he never practised, but
snufling up ent and dry tobacco, which sometimes was just
coloured with Spanish snuff; and this he used all his life, but
would not own that he took snu.
02
196
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
Berested's bridge; the coach sosses up and down as
one goes that way, just as at Hockley in the Hole.
I never impute any illness or health I have to good
or ill weather, but to want of exercise, or ill air, or
something I have eaten, or hard study, or sitting up ;
and so I fence against those as well as I can: but
who a deuce can help the weather? Will Seymor,
the general, was excessively hot with the sun shin-
ing full upon him: so he turns to the sun, and says,
"Hearkee, friend, you had better go and ripen cu-
cumbers than plague me at this rate, &c." Another
time fretting at the heat, a gentleman by said "it
was such weather as pleased God:" Seymor said,
"Perhaps it may; but I'm sure it pleases nobody
else." Why, madam Dingley, the first-fruits are done.
Southwell told me they went to inquire about them,
and lord-treasurer said they were done, and had
been done long ago. And I'll tell you a secret you
And I'll tell you a secret you
must not mention, that the duke of Ormond is or-
dered to take notice of them in his speech to your
parliament and I desire you will take care to say
on occasion that my lord-treasurer Harley did it
many months ago before the duke was lord-lieute-
nant. And yet I cannot possibly come over yet: so
get you gone to Wexford, and make Stella well.
Yes, yes, I take care not to walk late; I never did
but once, and there are five hundred people on the
way as I walk. Tisdall is a puppy, and I will ex-
cuse him the half-hour he would talk with me. As
for the Examiner, I have heard a whisper, that after
that of this day, which tells what this parliament has
done, you will hardly find them so good. I prophesy
they will be trash for the future; and methinks in
this day's Examiner the author talks doubtfully, as
if he would write no more. Observe whether the
change be discovered in Dublin, only for your own
curiosity, that's all. Make a mouth there.
Mrs.
Vedeau's business I have answered, and I hope the
bill is not lost. Morrow.-'Tis stewing hot, but I
must rise, and go to town between fire and water.
Morrow, sirrahs both, morrow. At night. I dined
to-day with colonel Crowe, governor of Jantaica,
and your friend Sterne. I presented Sterne to my
lord-treasurer's brother, and gave him his case, and
engaged him in his favour. At dinner there fell the
swingingest long shower, and the most grateful to
me that ever I saw it thundered fifty times at least,
and the air is so cool that a body is able to live; and
I walked home to-night with comfort and without
dirt. I went this evening to lord-treasurer and sat
with him two hours, and we were in a very good
humour, and he abused me and called me Dr. Thomas
Swift fifty times: I have told you he does that when
he has a mind to make me mad. Sir Thomas
Frankland gave me to-day a letter from Murry,
accepting my bill: so all is well: only by a letter
from Parvisol I find there are some perplexities.
Joe has likewise written to me to thank me for what
I have done for him; and desires I would write to
the bishop of Clogher, that Tom Ashe may not hin-
der his father from being portrief. I have written
and sent to Joe several times, that I will not trouble
myself at all about Trim. I wish them their liberty;
but they do not deserve it: so tell Joe, and send to
him. I am mighty happy with this rain: I was at
the end of my patience, but now I live again. This
cannot go till Saturday, and perhaps I may go out
of town with lord Shelburne and lady Kerry to-
morrow for two or three days. Lady Kerry has
written to desire it; but to-morrow I shall know
further. O this dear rain, I cannot forbear praising
it: I never felt myself to be revived so in my life.
It lasted from three till five, hard as a horn and
mixed with hail
8. Morning. I am going to town, and will just finish
this there, if I go into the country with lady Kerry
and lord Shelburne; so morrow, till an hour or two
bence. In town I met Cairnes, who, I suppose, will
pay me the money; though he says I must send him
the bill first, and I will get it done in absence. Fare-
well, &c. &c.
LETTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH.
Chelsea, June 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.
I HAVE been all this time at Wicomb, between Ox-
ford and London, with lord Shelburne, who has
there in a delicious country. Lady Kerry and Mrs.
the squire's house at the town's end, and an estate
enough; and there I wholly disengaged myself from
Pratt were with us, and we passed our time well
all public thoughts, and everything but MD, who
had the impudence to send me a letter there; but
I'll be revenged: I'll answer it. This day, the
20th, I came from Wicomb with lady Kerry after
dinner, lighted at Hyde-park-corner, and walked:
it was twenty-seven miles, and we came it in about
five hours.
21. I went at noon to see Mr. Secretary at his
office, and there was lord-treasurer: so I killed two
birds, &c., and we were glad to see one another,
and so forth. And the secretary and I dined at sir
William Wyndham's, who married lady Catherine
Seymour, your acquaintance, suppose. There
were ten of us at dinner. It seems in my absence
made some laws to-day, which I am to digest, and
they had erected a club, and made me one; and we
add to, against next meeting. Our meetings are to
be every Thursday: we are yet but twelve: lord-
keeper and lord-treasurer were proposed; but I was
against them, and so was Mr. Secretary, though
their sons are of it, and so they are excluded; but
we design to admit the duke of Shrewsbury. The
end of our club is to advance conversation and
friendship, and to reward deserving persons with
our interest and recommendation. We take in none
but men of wit or men of interest; and if we go on
as we begin, no other club in this town will be
worth talking of. The solicitor-general, sir Robert
Raymond, is one of our club; and I ordered him
immediately to write to your lord-chancellor in
favour of Dr. Raymond; so tell Raymond, if you
see him; but I believe this will find you at Wex-
ford. This letter will come three weeks after the
last; so there is a week lost; but that is owing to
my being out of town; yet I think it is right, be-
cause it goes enclosed to Mr. Reading: and why
should he know how often Presto writes to MD,
pray?—I sat this evening with lady Butlera and
lady Ashburnham, and then came home by eleven,
and had a good cool walk; for we have had no ex-
treme hot weather this fortnight, but a great deal of
rain at times, and a body can live and breathe.
hope it will hold so. We had peaches to-day.
22. I went late to-day to town, and dined with
my friend Lewis.
I saw Will. Congreve attending
at the treasury, by order, with his brethren, the com-
missioners of the wine-licences. I had often men-
tioned him with kindness to lord-treasurer; and
Congreve told me, that after they had answered to
what they were sent for, my lord called him pri-
vately, and spoke to him with great kindness, pro-
mising his protection, &c. The poor man said he
had been used so ill of late years, that he was
quite astonished at my lord's goodness, &c., and
A
I
Daughter to James duke of Ormond. She lived to be abote
ninety years of age, and never was married.
1710.
Sister to the above lady. See the Journal of October 20th,
JOURNAL. TO STELLA.
197
desired me to tell my lord so; which I did this even-
ing, and recommended him heartily. My lord as-
sured me he esteemed him very much, and would
be always kind to him; that what he said was to
make Congreve easy, because he knew people talk-
ed as if his lordship designed to turn everybody
out, and particularly Congreve; which indeed was
true, for the poor man told me he apprehended it.
As I left my lord-treasurer I called on Congreve,
(knowing where he dined,) and told him what had
passed between my lord and me: so I have made a
worthy man easy, and that is a good day's work. I
am proposing to my lord to erect a society or aca-
demy for correcting and settling our language, that
we may not perpetually be changing as we do. He
enters mightily into it, so does the dean of Carlisle ;
and I design to write a letter to lord-treasurer with
the proposals of it, and publish it; and so I told,
my lord, and he approves of it. Yesterday's was a
sad Examiner, and last week was very indifferent,
though some little scraps of the old spirit, as if he
had given some hints; but yesterday's is all trash.
It is plain the hand is changed.
he will be a commissioner of the customs, and that
in a short time a great many more will be turned
out They blame lord-treasurer for his slowness in
turning people out; but I suppose he has his rea-
sons. They still keep my neighbour Atterbury in
suspense about the deanery of Christchurch, which
has been above six months vacant, and he is heartily
angry. I reckon you are now preparing for your
Wexford expedition; and poor Dingley is full of
carking, and caring, and scolding. How long will
you stay? Shall I be in Dublin before you return?
Don't fall and hurt yourselves, nor overturn the
coach. Love one another, and be good girls; and
drink Presto's health in water, madam Stella, and in
good ale, madam Dingley.
27. The secretary appointed me to dine with him
to-day, and we were to do a world of business; he
came at four, and brought Prior with him, and had
forgot the appointment, and no business was done.
I left him at eight, and went to change my gown at
Mrs. Vanhomrigh's; and there was sir Andrew
Fountaine at ombre with lady Ashburnham and
lady Frederick Schomberg; and lady Mary Schom-
berg, and lady Betty Butler, and others talking; and
it put me in mind of the dean, and Stoyte, and
Walls, and Stella at play, and Dingley and I looking
on. I stayed with them till ten, like a fool. Lady
Ashburnham is something like Stella; so I helped
her, and wished her good cards. It is late, &c.
28. Well, but I must answer this letter of our
MD's. Saturday approaches, and I han't written
down this side. O faith, Presto has been a sort of
a lazy fellow: but Presto will remove to town this
day se'ennight: the secretary has commanded me to
do so; and I believe he and I shall go for some
days to Windsor, where he will have leisure to mind
some business we have together. To-day our so-
23. I have not been in London to-day; for Dr.
Gastrel and I dined, by invitation, with the dean of
Carlisle, my neighbour; so I know not what they
are doing in the world; a mere country gentleman.
And are not you ashamed both to go into the coun-
try just when I did, and stay ten days just as I did,
saucy monkeys? But I never rode; I had no
horses, and our coach was out of order, and we went
and came in a hired one. Do you keep your lodg-
ings when you go to Wexford? I suppose you do;
for you will hardly stay above two months. I have
been wilking about our town to-night, and it is a
very scurvy place for walking. I am thinking to
leave it, and return to town, now the Irish folks are
gone. Ford goes in three days. How does Ding-ciety (it must not be called a club) dined at Mr. Se-
ley divert herself while Stella is riding? work, or
read, or walk? Does Dingley ever read to you? Had
you ever a book with you in the country? Is all
that left off? confess. Well, I'll go sleep; 'tis past
'tis past
eleven, and I go early to sleep: I write nothing at
night but to MD.
·
24. Stratford and I, and Pastoral Philips, (just
come from Denmark,) dined at Ford's to-day, who
paid his way, and goes for Ireland on Tuesday. The
earl of Peterborow is returned from Vienna without
one servant; he left them scattered in several towns
of Germany. I had a letter from him four days ago,
from Hanover, where he desires,I would immedi-
ately send him an answer to his house at Parson's-
green, about five miles off. I wondered what he
meant till I heard he was come.
He sent expresses,
and got here before them. He is above fifty, and
as active as one of five-and-twenty. I have not seen
him yet, nor know when I shall, or where to find
him.
25. Poor duke of Shrewsbury has been very ill
of a fever: we were all in a fright about him: I
thank God, he is better. I dined to-day at lord
Ashburnham's with his lady, for he was not at home:
she is a very good girl, and always a great favourite
of mine. Sterne tells me he has desired a friend to
receive your box in Chester, and carry it over. I
fear he will miscarry in his business, which was sent
to the treasury before he was recommended; for I
was positive only to second his recommendations,
and all his other friends failed him. However, on
your account, I will do what I can for him to-mor-
row with the secretary of the treasury.
26. We had much company to-day at dinner at
lord-treasurer's. Prior never fails: he is a much
better courtier than I; and we expect every day that
cretary's; we were but eight, the rest sent excuses
or were out of town. We sat till eight, and made
some laws and settlements; and then I went to
take leave of lady Ashburnham, who goes out of
town- to-morrow, as a great many of my acquaintance
are already, and left the town very thin. I shall
make but short journeys this summer, and not be
long out of London. The days are grown sensibly
shorter already, and all our fruit blasted. Your
duke of Ormond is still at Chester; and perhaps
this letter will be with you as soon as he. Sterne's a
business is quite blown up; they stand to it to send
him back to the commissioners of the revenue in
Ireland for a reference, and all my credit could not
alter it, although I almost fell out with the secretary
of the treasury, who is my lord-treasurer's cousin-
german, and my very good friend. It seems every
step he has hitherto taken hath been wrong; at
least they say so, and that is the same thing. I am
heartily sorry for it; and I really think they are in
the wrong, and use him hardly; but I can do no
more.
29. Steele has had the assurance to write to me
that I would engage my lord-treasurer to keep a
friend of his in an employment: I believe I told you
how he and Addison served me for my good offices
in Steele's behalf; and I promised lord-treasurer
never to speak for either of them again. Sir An-
drew Fountaine and I dined to-day at Mrs. Van-
homrigh's. Dilly Ashe has been in town this fort-
night: I saw him twice; he was four days at lord
Pembroke's in the country, punning with him; his
face is very well. I was this evening two or three
hours at lord-treasurer's, who called me Dr. Thomas
Swift twenty times; that's his way of teazing. 1
• Collector of Wicklow.
198
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
left him at nine, and got home here by ten, like a
gentleman; and to-morrow morning I'll answer
your letter, sirrahs.
30. Morning.-I am terrible sleepy always in a
morning; I believe it is my walk overnight that
disposes me to sleep; faith 'tis now striking eight,
and I am but just awake. Patrick comes early and
wakes me five or six times, but I have excuses,
though I am three parts asleep. I tell him I sat up
late, or slept ill in the night, and often it is a lie. I
have now got little MD's letter before me, No. 16,
no more, nor no less, no mistake. Dingley says,
"This letter won't be above six lines," and I was
afraid it was true, though I saw it filled on both
sides, The bishop of Clogher writ me word you
were in the country, and that he heard you were
well;
I am glad at heart MD rides, and rides, and
rides. Our hot weather ended in May, and all this
month has been moderate it was then so hot I was
not able to endure it; I was miserable every mo-
ment, and found myself disposed to be peevish and
quarrelsome; I believe a very hot country would
make me stark mad.-Yes, my head continues pretty
tolerable, and I impute it all to walking. Does
Stella eat fruit? I eat a little, but I always repent,
and resolve against it. No, in very hot weather I
always go to town by water, but I constantly walk
back, for then the sun is down. And so Mrs. Proby
goes with you to Wexford; she's admirable com-
pany you'll grow plaguy wise with those you fre-
quent. Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Proby; take care
of infection. I believe my two hundred pounds
will be paid, but that sir Alexander Cairnes is a
scrupulous puppy: I left the bill with Mr. Stratford,
who is to have the money.-Now, madam Stella,
what say you? you ride every day; I know that
already, sirrah; and if you rid every day for a
twelvemonth, you would be still better and better.
No, I hope Parvisol will not have the impudence to
make you stay an hour for the money; if he does,
I'll unparvisol him; pray let me know. O Lord,
how hasty we are; Stella can't stay writing and
writing; she must write and go a cockhorse, pray
now. Well, but the horses are not come to the
door; the fellow can't find the bridle; your stirrup
is broken; where did you put the whips, Dingley?
Marg'et, where have you laid Mrs. Johnson's ri-
band to tie about her? reach me my mask; sup up
this before you go. So, so, a gallop, a gallop; sit
fast, sirrah, and don't ride hard upon the stones.
Well, now Stella is gone, tell me, Dingley, is she a
good girl? and what news is that you are to tell
me? No, I believe the box is not lost: Sterne
says it is not.-No, faith, you must go to Wexford
without seeing your duke of Ormond, unless you
stay on purpose; perhaps you may be so wise.
tell you this is your sixteenth letter; will you never
be satisfied? No, no, I'll walk late no more; I
ought less to venture it than other people, and so I
was told but I'll return to lodge in town next
Thursday. When you come from Wexford, I would
have you send a letter of attorney to Mr. Benjamin
Tooke, bookseller in London, directed to me; and
he shall manage your affair. I have your parch-
I have your parch-
ment safely locked up in London. O madam Stella,
welcome home; was it pleasant riding? did your
horse stumble? how often did the man light to
settle your stirrup? ride nine miles? faith you have
galloped indeed. Well, but where's the fine thing
you promised me? I have been a good boy, ask
Dingley else. I believe you did not meet the fine-
thing-man faith you are a cheat. So you'll see
Raymond and his wife in town. Faith that riding
to Laracor gives me short sighs as well as you.
I
All
the days I have passed here have been dirt to those.
I have been gaining enemies by the scores, and
friends by the couples, which is against the rules of
wisdom, because they say one enemy can do more
hurt than ten friends can do good. But I have had
my revenge at least, if I get nothing else.
And so
let fate govern.--Now I think your letter is an-
swered; and mine will be shorter than ordinary,
because it must go to-day. We have had a great
deal of scattering rain for some days past, yet it
hardly keeps down the dust.
We have plays
acted in our town, and Patrick was at one of them,
oh, oh. He was damnably mauled one day when
he was drunk; he was at cuffs with a brother foot-
man, who dragged him along the floor upon his
face, which looked for a week after as if he had the
leprosy; and I was glad enough to see it. I have
been ten times sending him over to you; yet now
he has new clothes, and a laced hat which the hatter
brought by his orders, and he offered to pay for the
lace out of his wages. I am to dine to-day with
Dilly at sir Andrew Fountaine's, who has bought a
new house, and will be weary of it in half a year.
I must rise and shave, and walk to town, unless I
go with the dean in his chariot at twelve, which is
too late; and I have not seen that lord Peterborow
yet. The duke of Shrewsbury is almost well again,
and will be abroad in a day or two what care you?
There it is now; you don't care for my friends.
Farewell, my dearest lives and delights, I love you
better than ever, if possible, as hope saved, I do,
and ever will. God Almighty bless you ever, and
make us happy together; I pray for this twice every
day; and I hope God will hear my poor hearty
prayers. Remember, if I am used ill and ungrate-
fully, as
fully, as I have formerly been, 'tis what I am pre-
pared for, and shall not wonder at it. Yet, I am
now envied, and thought in high favour, and have
every day numbers of considerable men teazing me
to solicit for them. And the ministry all use me
perfectly well, and all that know them say they love
me. Yet I can count upon nothing, nor will, but
upon MD's love and kindness. They think me
useful; they pretended they were afraid of none
but me; and that they resolved to have me; they
have often confessed this: yet all makes little im-
pression on me. Pox of these speculations! they
give me the spleen; and that is a disease I was not
born to.-Let me alone, sirrahs, and be satisfied: I
well:
am, as long as MD and Presto are,
Little wealth, and much health, and a lite by stealth;
that is all we want; and so farewell, dearest MD;
Stella, Dingley, Presto, all together, now and for
ever all together. Farewell, again and again.
LETTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH.
Chelsea, June 30, 1711.
SEE what large paper I am forced to take to write
to MD; Patrick has brought me none clipped; but
faith the next shall be smaller. I dined to-day, as
I told you, with Dilly, at sir Andrew Fountaine's:
there were we wretchedly punning and writing to-
gether to lord Pembroke. Dilly is just such a puppy
as ever; and it is so uncouth, after so long an inter-
mission. My 25th is gone this evening to the post.
I think I will direct my next (which is this) to Mr.
Curry's, and let them send it to Wexford, and then
the next enclosed to Reading. Instruct me how I
shall do. I long to hear from you from Wexford,
and what sort of place it is. The town grows very
empty and dull. This evening I have had a letter
from Mr. Philips the pastoral poet, to get him a
1
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
199
certain employment from lord-treasurer. I have
now had almost all the Whig poets my solicitors;
and I have been useful to Congreve, Steele, and
Harrison; but I will do nothing for Philips; I find
he is more a puppy than ever, so don't solicit for
him. Besides, I will not trouble lord-treasurer,
unless upon some very extraordinary occasion.
July 1. Dilly lies conveniently for me when I
come to town from Chelsea of a Sunday, and go to
the secretary's; so I called at his lodgings this
morning, and sent for my gown, and dressed myself
there. He had a letter from the bishop, with an
account that you were set out for Wexford the
morning he writ, which was June 26th, and he had
the letter the 30th; that was very quick. The
bishop says you design to stay there two months or
more. Dilly had also a letter from Tom Ashe, full
of Irish news: that your lady Linden is dead, and I
know not what besides, of Dr. Coghilla losing his
drab, &c. The secretary is gone to Windsor, and 1
dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh. Lord-treasurer is at
Windsor too: they will be going and coming all
summer, while the queen is there and the town is
empty; and I fear I shall be sometimes forced to
stoop beneath my dignity, and send to the alehouse
for a dinner. Well, sirrahs, had you a good journey
to Wexford? Did you drink ale by the way? were
you never overturned? how many things did you
forget? do you lie on straw in your new town where
you are? Cudsho, the next letter to Presto will be
dated from Wexford. What fine company have you
there? what new acquaintance have you got? you
are to write constantly to Mrs. Walls and Mrs.
Stoyte and the dean said shall we never hear from
you? Yes, Mr. Dean, we'll make bold to trouble
you with a letter. Then at Wexford; when you
meet a lady; Did your waters pass well this morn-
ing, madam? Will Dingley drink them too?
Yes,
I warrant, to get her a stomach. I suppose you are
all gamesters at Wexford. Don't lose your money,
sirrah, far from home. I believe I shall go to Wind-
sr in a few days; at least the secretary tells me so.
lie has a small house there, with just room enough
for him and me; and I would be satisfied to pass a
few days there sometimes. Sirrahs, let me go to
sleep 'till past twelve in our town.
2. Sterne came to me this morning, and tells me
he has yet some hopes of compassing his business:
he was with Tom Harley, the secretary of the trea-
sury, and made him doubt a little he was in the
wrong; the poor man tells me it will almost undo
him if he fails. I called this morning to see Will.
Congreve, who lives much by himself, is forced
to read for amusement, and cannot do it without a
magnifying glass. I have set him very well with
the ministry, and I hope he is in no danger of losing
his place. I dined in the city with Dr. Freind, not
among my merchants, but with a scrub instrument
of mischief of mine, whom I never mentioned to
you, nor am like to do. You are two little saucy
Wexfordians, you are now drinking waters. You
drink waters! you go fiddlestick. Pray God send
them to do you good; if not, faith next summer you
shall come to the Bath.
3. Lord Peterborow desired to see me this morn-
ing at nine. I had not seen him before since he
came home. I met Mrs. Manley there, who was
soliciting him to get some pension or reward for her
service in the cause, by writing her Atalantis, and
prosecution, &c., upon it. I seconded her, and hope
they will do something for the poor woman.
lord kept me two hours upon politics: he comes
My
Dr. Marmaduke Coghill, judge of the prerogative court
for Ireland,
home very sanguine; he has certainly done great
things at Savoy and Vienna by his negotiations; he
is violent against a peace, and finds true what I writ
to him, that the ministry seems for it. He reasons
well; yet I am for a peace. I took leave of lady
Kerry, who goes to-morrow for Ireland; she picks
up lord Shelburne and Mrs. Pratt at lord Shelburne's
house. I was this evening with lord-treasurer.
Tom Harley was there; and whispered me that
he began to doubt about Sterne's business. I told
him he would find he was in the wrong. I sat
two or three hours at lord-treasurer's. He rallied
me sufficiently upon my refusing to take him
into our club; told a judge who was with us that
my name was Thomas Swift. I had a mind to pre-
vent sir H. Bellasis going to Spain, who is a most
covetous cur; and I fell a railing against avarice,
and turned it so, that he smoked me, and named
Bellasis. I went on, and said it was a shame to send
him; to which he agreed, but desired I would name
some who understood business and do not love
money, for he could not find them. I said there was
something in a treasurer different from other men ;
that we ought not to make a man a bishop who does
not love divinity, or a general who does not love war;
and I wondered why the queen would make a mau
lord-treasurer who does not love money. He was
mightily pleased with what I said. He was talking
of the first-fruits of England; and I took occasion
to tell him that I would not for a thousand pounds
anybody but he had got them to Ireland, who got
them for England too. He bid me consider what a
thousand pounds was. I said I would have him to
know I valued a thousand pounds as little as he
valued a million.-Is it not silly to write all this? But
it gives you an idea what our conversation is with
mixed company. I have taken a lodging in Suffolk-
street, and go to it on Thursday; and design to
walk the park and the town, to supply my walking
here yet I will walk here sometimes too, in a visit
now and then to the dean. When I was almost at
home Patrick told me he had two letters for me,
and gave them to me in the dark; yet I could see
one of them was from saucy MD. I went to visit
the dean for half an hour; and then came home, and
first read the other letter, which was from the bishop
of Clogher, who tells me the archbishop of Dublin
mentioned, in a full assembly of the clergy, the
queen's granting the first-fruits; said it was done by
the lord-treasurer; and talked much of my merit in
it but reading yours, I find nothing of that. Perhaps
the bishop lies, out of a desire to please me. I dined
with Mrs. Vanhomrigh. Well, sirrahs, you are
gone to Wexford, but I'll follow you.
:
4. Sterne came to me again this morning, to advise
about reasons and memorials he is drawing up; and
we went to town by water together; and having no-
thing to do, I stole into the city to an instrument of
mine, and then went to see poor Patty Rolt, who has
been in town these two months with a cousin of hers.
Her life passes with boarding in some country town
as cheap as she can, and when she runs out, shifting
to some cheaper place, or coming to town for a
month. If I were rich I would ease her, which a
little thing would do. Some months ago I sent her
a guinea, and it patched up twenty circumstances.
She is now going to Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire.
It has rained and hailed prodigiously to-day, with
some thunder. This is the last night I lie at Chelsea;
and I got home early, and sat two hours with the
dean, and eat victuals, having had a very scurvy
dinner. I'll answer your letter when I come to live
in town. You shall have a fine London answer:
but first I'll go sleep, and dream of MD.
200
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
London, July 5. This day I left Chelsea for good
(that's a genteel phrase), and am got into Suffolk-
street. I dined to-day at our society, and we are
adjourned for a month, because most of us go into
the country. We dined at lord-keeper's with young
Harcourt, and lord-keeper was forced to sneak off,
and dine with lord-treasurer, who had invited the
secretary and me to dine with him; but we scorned
to leave our company, as George Granville did, whom
we have threatened to expel. However, in the even-
ing I went to lord-treasurer, and among other com-
pany found a couple of judges with him. One of
them, judge Powel, an old fellow with grey hairs,
was the merriest old gentleman I ever saw, spoke
pleasant things, and laughed and chuckled till he cried
again. I stayed till eleven, because I was not now
to walk to Chelsea.
6. An ugly rainy day. I was to visit Mrs. Barton,
then called at Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, where sir Andrew
Fountaine and the rain kept me to dinner; and
there did I loiter all the afternoon, like a fool, out
of perfect laziness, and the weather not permitting |
me to walk. But I'll do so no more.
Are your
waters at Wexford good in this rain? I long to hear
how you are established there, how and whom you
visit, what is your lodging, what are your entertain-
ments. You are got far southward; but I think you
must eat no fruit while you drink the waters. I ate
some Kentish cherries t'other day, and I repent it
already. I have felt my head a little disordered.
We had not a hot day all June, nor since, which I
reckon a mighty happiness.-Have you left a direc-
tion with Reading for Wexford? I will, as I said,
direct this to Curry's, and the next to Reading; or
suppose I send this at a venture straight to Wexford?
It would rex me to have it miscarry. I had a letter
to-night from Parvisol, that White has paid me most
of my remaining money; and another from Joe,
that they have had their election at Trim, but not a
word of who is chosen portrieve. Poor Joe is full of
complaints, says he has enemies, and fears he will
never get his two hundred pounds; and I fear so too,
although I have done what I could. I'll answer
your letter when I think fit, when saucy Presto
thinks fit, sirrahs. I an't at leisure yet; when I
have nothing to do, perhaps I may vouchsafe. O Lord,
the two Wexford ladies; I'll go dream of you both.
I
7. It was the dismallest rainy day I ever saw.
went to the secretary in the morning, and he was
gone to Windsor. Then it began raining, and I
struck in to Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, and dined, and
stayed till night, very dull and insipid. I hate this
town in summer; I'll leave it for a while, if I can
have time.
8. I have a fellow of your town, one Tisdall, lodges
in the same house with me. Patrick told me squire
Tisdall and his lady lodged here. I pretended I never
heard of him; but I knew his ugly face, and saw
him at church in the next pew to me; and he often
looked for a bow, but it would not do. I think he
lives in Capel-street, and has an ugly fine wife in a
fine coach. Dr. Freind and I dined in the city by
invitation, and I drank punch, very good, but it
makes me hot. People here are troubled with agues,
by this continuance of wet cold weather; but I am
glad to find the season so temperate. I was this
evening to see Will. Congreve, who is a very agree-
able companion.
9. I was to-day in the city, and dined with Mr.
Stratford, who tells me sir Alexander Cairnes makes
difficulties about paying my bill, so that I cannot
give order yet to Parvisol to deliver up the bond to
Dr. Raymond. To-morrow I shall have a positive
answer: that Cairnes is a shuffling scoundrel, and
several merchants have told me so. What can one
expect from a Scot and a fanatic? I was at Bateman's,
the bookseller's, to see a fine old library he has
bought; and my fingers itched, as yours would do
at a china-shop; but I resisted, and found every-
thing too dear, and I have fooled away too much
money that way already. So go and drink your
waters, saucy rogue, and make yourself well; and
pray walk while you are there. I have a notion
there is never a good walk in Ireland.a Do yo find
all places without trees? Pray observe the inhabit-
ants about Wexford; they are old English; see what
they have particular in their manners, names, and
language. Magpies have been always there, and no-
where else in Ireland, till of late years. They say
the cocks and dogs go to sleep at noon, and so do
the people. Write your travels, and bring home good
eyes and health.
10. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer; we did
not sit down till four. I despatched three businesses
with him and forgot a fourth. I think I have got a
friend an employment; and besides, I made him
consent to let me bring Congreve to dine with him.
You must understand I have a mind to do a small
thing, only turn out all the queen's physicians. for in
my conscience they will soon kill her among them;
and I must talk over that matter with some people.
My lord-treasurer told me the queen and he be-
tween them have lost the paper about the first-fruits;
but desires I will let the bishops know it shall be
done with the first opportunity.
11. I dined to-day with neighbour Van, and
walked pretty well in the park this evening.-Stella,
hussy, don't you remember, sirrah, you used to re-
proach me about meddling in other folks' affairs. I
have enough of it now: two people came to me to-
night in the park, to engage me to speak to lord-
treasurer in their behalf; and I believe they make
up fifty who have asked me the same favour.
I am
hardened, and resolved to trouble him, or any other
And I observe those who
minister, less than ever.
have ten times more credit than I will not speak a
word for anybody. I met yesterday the poor lad I
told you of, who lived with Mr. Tenison, who has
been ill of an ague ever since I saw him. He looked
wretchedly, and was exceeding thankful for half-a-
crown I gave him. He had a crown from me before.
12. I dined to-day with young Manley in the city,
who is to get me out a box of books, and a hamper
of wine from Hamburgh. I inquired of Mr. Strat-
ford, who tells me that Cairnes has not yet paid my
two hundred pounds, but shams and delays from day
to day. Young Manley's wife is a very indifferent
person of a young woman, goggle-eyed and looks
like a fool: yet he is a handsome fellow, and married
her for love, after long courtship, and she refused
him until he got his last employment. I believe I shall
not be so good a boy for writing as I was during your
stay at Wexford, unless I may send
letters every
second time to Curry's; pray let me know.
I think shall go there, or why not to Wexford itself?
that's right, and so it shall this next Tuesday, al-
though it cost you tenpence. What care I?
my
This
13. This toad of a secretary is come from Windsor,
and I can't find him; and he goes back on Sunday,
and I can't see him to-morrow. I dined scurvily
to-day with Mr. Lewis and a parson; and then went
to see lord-treasurer, and met him coming from hist
house in his coach: he smiled, and I shrugged, and
we smoked each other; and so my visit is paid. I
now confiue myself to see him only twice a-week.
He has invited me to Windsor, and between two
In heland there were at that period no foot-paths as a
England.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
201
stools, &c. I'll go live at Windsor, if possible, that's
poz. 1 have always the luck to pass my summer in
London. I called this evening to see poor sir Mat-
thew Dudley, a commissioner of the customs; I
know he is to be out for certain: he is in hopes of
continuing. I would not tell him bad news, but
advised him to prepare for the worst. Dilly was
with me this morning, to invite me to dine at
Kensington on Sunday with lord Mountjoy, who goes
soon for Ireland. Your late chief-justice Broderick
is here, and they say violent as a tiger. How is
party among you at Wexford? Are the majority of
ladies for the late or present ministry? Write me
Wexford news, and love Presto because he's a good
boy.
14. Although it was shaving-day I walked to
Chelsea, and was there by nine this morning and
the dean of Carlisle and I crossed the water to Bat-
tersea, and went in his chariot to Greenwich, where
we dined at Dr. Gastrel's, and passed the afternoon
at Lewisham, a. the dean of Canterbury's; and
there I saw Moll Stanhope, who is grown mon-
strously tall, but not so handsome as formerly. It
is the first little rambling journey I have had this
summer about London, and they are the agreeablest
pastimes one can have, in a friend's coach, and to
good company. Bank stock is fallen three or four
per cent. by the whispers about the town of the
queen's being ill, who is however very well.
15. How many books have you carried with you
to Wexford ? What, not one single book? Oh, but
your time will be so taken up; and you can borrow
of the parson. I dined to-day with sir Andrew
Fountaine and Dilly, at Kensington, with lord
Mountjoy; and in the afternoon Stratford came
there, and told me my two hundred pounds was
paid at last; so that business is over, and I am at
ease about it: and I wish all your money was in the
I'll have my t'other hundred pounds
there that is in Hawkshaw's hands. Have you had
the interest of it paid yet? I ordered Parvisol to do
it. What makes Presto write so crooked? I'll an-
swer your letter to-morrow, and send it on Tuesday.
Here's hot weather come again yesterday and to-
day; fine drinking waters now. We had a sad pert
dull parson at Kensington to-day. I almost repent
my coming to town: I want the walks I had.
bank too.
16. I dined in the city to-day with a hedge ac-
quaintance, and the day passed without any conse-
quence. I'll answer your letter to-morrow.
17. Morning.-I have put your letter before me,
and am going to answer it. Hold your tongue:
stand by. Your weather and ours were not alike;
we had not a bit of hot weather in June, yet
you complain of it on the 19th day. What, you
used to love hot weather then? I could never endure
it; I detest and abominate it. I would not live in
a hot country to be king of it. What a splutter you
keep about my bonds with Raymond, and all to af-
front Presto. Presto will be suspicious of everything
but MD, in spite of your little nose. Soft and fair,
madam Stella, how you gallop away in your spleen
and your rage about repenting my journey, and pre-
ferment here, and sixpence a dozen, and nasty Eng-
land, and Laracor all my life. Hey dazy! will you
never have done? I had no offers of any living.
Lord-keeper told me some months ago he would
give me one when I pleased; but I told him I would
not take any from him: and the secretary told me
t'other day he had refused a very good one for me;
but it was in a place he did not like; and I know
nothing of getting anything here, and, if they would
Addi-
give me leave, I would come over just now.
Dr. Stanhope, the celebrated vicar of Lewisham.
:
son, I hear, has changed his mind about going a ver;
but I have not seen him these four months. O, ay,
that's true, Dingley! that's like herself: millions of
businesses to do before she goes. Yes, my head has
been pretty well, but threatening within these two
or three days, which I impute to some fruit I ate ;
I sup-
but I will eat no more: not a bit of any sort.
pose you had a journey without dust, and that was
happy. I long for a Wexford letter; but must not
think of it yet. Your last was finished but three
weeks ago.
It is d-d news you tell me of Mrs.
F~~~; it makes me love England less a great deal.
I know nothing of the trunk being left or taken; so
'tis odd enough, if the things in it were mine; and
I think I was told that there were some things for
I am
me that my mother left particularly to me.
really sorry for
-; that scoundrel will have
his estate after his mother's death. Let me know
if Mrs. Walls has got her tea: I hope Richardson
Mrs. Walls needed
stayed in Dublin till it came.
not have that blemish in her eye, for I am not in love
with her at all. No, I don't like anything in the
Examiner after the 45th, except the first part of the
46th; all the rest is trash; and if you like them,
especially the 47th, your judgment is spoiled by ill
company and want of reading; which I am more
sorry for than you think and I have spent fourteen
years in improving you to little purpose. (Mr.
Tooke is come here, and I must stop), At night.-
I dined with lord-treasurer to-day, and he kept me
till nine; so I cannot send this to-night, as I in-
tended, nor write some other letters. Green, his
surgeon, was there, and dressed his breast-that is,
put on a plaster, which is still requisite; and I took
an opportunity to speak to him of the queen; but he
cut me short with this saying: Laissez faire à don An-
toine; which is a French proverb, expressing, Leave
that to me. I find he is against her taking much
physic; and I doubt he cannot persuade her to take
Dr. Radcliffe. However, she is very well now, and
all the story of her illness, except the first day or two,
was a lie. We had some business, that company
hindered us from doing, though he is earnest for
it, yet would not appoint me a certain day, but bids
me come at all times till we can have leisure. This
takes up a great deal of my time, and I can do nothing
I would do for them. I was with the secretary this
morning, and we both think to go next week to
Windsor for some days, to despatch an affair, if we
can have leisure. Sterne met me just now in the
street by his lodgings, and I went in for an hour to
Jemmy Leigh, who loves London dearly: he asked
after you with great respect and friendship. To re-
turn to your letter. Your bishop Mills hates me
mortally: I wonder he should speak well of me,
having abused me in all places where he went.
you pay your way. Cudsho! you had a fine supper,
I warrant; two pullets, and a bottle of wine, and
some currants. It is just three weeks to-day since
you set out to Wexford; you were three days going,
and I don't expect a letter these ten days yet, or
rather this fortnight.
rather this fortnight. I got a grant of the Gazette
for Ben Tooke this morning from Mr. Secretary
it will be worth to him a hundred pounds a-year.
So
18. To-day I took leave of Mrs. Barton, who is
going into the country; and I dined with sir John
Stanley, where I have not been this great while.-
There dined with us lord Rochester, and his fine
daughter lady Jane, just growing up a top tonst.
I have been endeavouring to save sir Matthew Dud-
bey, but I fear I cannot. I walked the Mall SIX
The bishop of Waterford.
b Lady Jane Hyde was married Nov. 27, 1718, to Wilham
Capel, earl of Essex and died Jan. 3–1723 4.
202
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
times to-night for exercise, and would have done
more; but, as empty as the town is, a fool got hold
of me, and so I came home, to tell you this shall go
to-morrow, without fail. and follow you to Wexford
like a dog.
19. Dean Atterbury sent to me to dine with him
at Chelsea; I refused his coach, and walked, and
am come back by seven, because I would finish this
letter, and some others I am writing. Patrick tells
me the maid said one Mr. Walls, a clergymau, a tall
man, was here to visit me. Is it your Irish arch-
deacon? I shall be sorry for it; but I shall make a
shift to see him seldom enough, as I do Dilly.-
What can he do here? or is it somebody else? The
duke of Newcastle is dead by the fall he had from
his horse. God send poor Stella her health, and
keep MD happy. Farewell, and love Presto, who
loves MD above all things ten million of times.
God bless the dear Wexford girls. Farewell again,
&c. &c.
LETTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH.
London, July 19, 1711.
I HAVE just sent my 26th, and have nothing to_say,
because I have other letters to write (pshaw, I be-
gin too high); but I must lay the beginning like a
nest-egg; to-morrow I'll say more, and letch up this
line to be straight. This is enough at present for
two dear saucy naughty girls.
20. Have I told you that Walls has been with me,
and leaves the town in three days? He has brought
no gown with him. Dilly carried him to a play.
He has come upon a foolish errand, and goes back
as he comes. I was this day with lord Peterborow,
who is going another ramble: I believe I told you
I dined with lord- treasurer, but cannot get
him to do his own business with me; he has put me
off till to-morrow.
so.
21, 22. I dined yesterday with lord-treasurer, who
would needs take me along with him to Windsor,
although I refused him several times, having no
linen, &c. I had just time to desire lord Forbes to
call at my lodging, and order my man to send my
things to-day to Windsor, by his servant. I lay last
night at the secretary's lodgings at Windsor, and bor-
rowed one of his shirts to go to court in. The queen
is very well. I dined with Mr. Masham; and not
hearing anything of my things, I got lord Winchel-
sea to bring me to town. Ilere I found that Patrick
had broke open the closet to get my linen and night-
gown, and sent them to Windsor, and there they
are; and he, not thinking I would return so soon,
s gone upon his rambles: so here I am left destitute,
and forced to borrow a nightgown of my landlady,
and have not a rag to put on to-morrow; faith
gives me the spleen.
23. Morning.-It is a terrible rainy day, and rained
prodigiously on Saturday night. Patrick lay out
last night, and is not yet returned; faith, poor
Presto is a desolate creature; neither servant nor
linen, nor anything. Night.-Lord Forbes's man
has brought back my portmanteau, and Patrick is
come; so I am in christian circumstances: I shall
hardly commit such a frolic again. I just crept out
to Mrs. Van's, aud dined, and stayed there the after-
noon: it has rained all this day. Windsor is a deli-
cious place: I never saw it before except for an hour
about seventeen years ago. Walls has been here in
my absence, I suppose to take his leave; for he de-
signed not to stay above five days in London. He
says, he and his wife will come here for some months
next year; and, in short, he dares not stay now for
fear of her.
24. I dined to-day with a hedge friend in the city;
and Walls overtook me in the street, and told me
he was just getting on horseback for Chester.
He
has as much curiosity as a cow: he lodged with his
horse in Aldersgate-street: he has bought his wife
a silk gown, and himself a hat. And what are you
doing what is poor MD doing now? how do you
pass your time at Wexford how do the waters
agree with you? let Presto know soon, for Presto
longs to know, and must know. Is not madam
Proby curious company? I am afraid this rainy
weather will spoil your waters.
We have had a
great deal of wet these three days. Tell me all the
particulars of Wexford; the place, the company, the
diversions, the victuals, the wants, the vexations.
Poor Dingley never saw such a place in her life;
seut all over the town for a little parsley to a boiled
chicken, and it was not to be had: the butter is
stark naught, except an old English woman's; and
it is such a favour to get a pound from her now and
then. I am glad you carried down your sheets with
you, else you must have lain in sackcloth. O Lord!
25. I was this afternoon with Mr. Secretary at his
office, and helped to hinder a man of his pardon
who is condemned for a rape. The under-secretary
was willing to save him, upon an old notion that a
woman cannot be ravished; but I told the secretary
he could not pardon him without a favourable report
from the judge. Besides, he was a fiddler, and con-
sequently a rogue, and deserved hanging for some-
thing else; and so he shall swing. What! I must
stand up for the honour of the fair sex? 'Tis true,
the fellow had lain with her a hundred times before
but what care I for that? What! must a woman be
ravished because she is a whore! The secretary and
I go on Saturday to Windsor for a week. I dined
with lord-treasurer, and stayed with him till past ten.
I was to-day at his levee, where I went against my
custom, because I had a mind to do a good office for
a gentleman: so I talked with him before my lord,
that he might see me, and then found occasion to
recommend him this afternoon. I was forced to
excuse my coming to the levee, that I did it to see
the sight; for he was going to chide me away: I had
never been there before but once, and that was loug
before he was treasurer. The rooms were all full,
and as many Whigs as Tories. He whispered me
a jest or two, and bid me come to dinner. I left
him but just now, and 'tis late.
;
26. Mr. Addison and I have at last met again. I
dined with him and Steele to-day at young Jacob
Tonson's. The two Jacobs think it is I who have
made the secretary take from them the printing of
the Gazette, which they are going to lose, and Ben
Tooke and another are to have it. Jacob came to
me t'other day to make his court; but I told him it
was too late, and that it was not my doing. I reckon
they will lose it in a week or two. Mr. Addison
and I talked as usual, and as if we had seen one
another yesterday; and Steele and I were very easy,
though I writ him a biting letter in auswer to one
of his, where he desired me to recommend a friend
of his to lord-treasurer. Go, get you gone to your
waters, sirrah. Do they give you a stomach? Do
you eat heartily? We had much rain to-day and
yesterday.
27. I dined to-day in the city, and saw poor Patty
Rolt, and gave her a pistole to help her a little for-
ward against she goes to board in the country. She
has but eighteen pounds a year to live on, and is
forced to seek out for cheap places. Sometimes
they raise their price, and sometimes they starve
her, and then she is forced to shift. Patrick, the
puppy, put too much ink in my standish, and carry-
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
203
ing too many things together, I spilled it on my
The town is dull, and wet, and
paper and floor.
empty: Wexford is worth two of it
; hope so at
least, and that little MD finds it so.
I reckon upon
going to Windsor to-morrow with Mr. Secretary.
unless he changes his mind, or some other business
prevents him. I shall stay there a week I hope.
28. Morning.-Mr. Secretary sent me word he will
call at my lodgings by two this afternoon, to take
me to Windsor, so I must dine nowhere; and I
promised lord-treasurer to dine with him to-day;
but I suppose we shall dine at Windsor at five, for
we make but three hours there. I am going abroad,
but have left Patrick to put up my things, and to be
sure to be at home half an hour before two. Wind-
sor, at night.We did not leave London till three,
and dined here between six and seven; at nine I
left the company, and went to see lord-treasurer,
who is just come.
I chid him for coming so late;
he chid me for not dining with him; said he stayed
an hour for me. Then I went and sat an hour with
Mr. Lewis till just now, and 'tis past eleven. I lie
I lie
in the same house with the secretary, one of the
prebendary's houses. The secretary is not come
from his apartinent in the castle. Do you think
that abominable dog Patrick was out after two to-
day, and I in a fright every moment for fear the
chariot should come; and when he came in he had
not put up one rag of my things: I never was in a
greater passion, and would certainly have cropped
one of his ears, if I had not looked every moment
for the secretary, who sent his equipage to my
lodging before, and came in a chair from Whitehall
to me, and happened to stay half an hour later than
he intended. One of lord-treasurer's servants gave
me a letter from *****, with an offer of fifty pounds
to be paid me in what manner I pleased; because,
he said, he desired to be well with me. I was in a
rage but my
:
friend Lewis cooled me, and said it
is what the best men sometimes meet with; and I
have been not seldom served in the like manner,
although not so grossly. In these cases I never
demur a moment; nor ever found the least inclina-
tion to take any thing. Well, I'll go try to sleep in
my new bed, and to dream of poor Wexford MD,
and Stella that drinks water, and Dingley that
drinks ale.
29. I was at court and church to-day, as I was
this day se'ennight. I generally am acquainted with
about thirty in the drawing-room, and am so proud
I make all the lords come up to me; one passes
half an hour pleasant enough. We had a dunce to
preach before the queen to-day, which often hap-
pens. Windsor is a delicious situation, but the
town is scoundrel. I have this morning got the
Gazette for Ben Tooke and one Barber a printer;
it will be about three hundred pounds a year be-
tween them. T'other fellow was printer of the
Examiner, which is now laid down. I dined with
the secretary: we were a dozen in all, three Scotch
lords, and lord Peterborow. Duke Hamilton would
needs be witty, and hold up my train as I walked
ip stairs.
It is an ill circumstance that on Sun-
days much company meet always at the great tables.
Lord-treasurer told at court what I said to Mr.
Secretary on this occasion. The secretary showed
me his bill of fare, to encourage me to dine with
him. Poh, said I, show me a bill of company, for
I value not your dinner. See how this is all blotted ;
I can write no more here, but to tell you I love MD
dearly, and God bless them.
30. In my conscience I fear I shall have the gout.
I sometimes feel pains about my feet and toes; I
never drank till within these two years, and I did it
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to cure my head. I often sit evenings with some of
these people, and drink in my turn; but I am now
resolved to drink ten times less than before; but
they advise me to let what I drink be all wine, and
not to put water to it. Tooke and the printer
stayed to-day to finish their affair, and treated me
and two of the under-secretaries, upon their getting
the Gazette. Then I went to see lord-treasurer,
and chid him for not taking notice of me at Wind-
sor: he said he kept a place for me yesterday at
dinner, and expected me there; but I was glad I
did not come, because the duke of Buckingham was
there, and that would have made us acquainted,
which I have no mind to. However, we appointed
to sup at Mr. Masham's, and there stayed till past
one o'clock; and that is late, sirrals: and I have
much business.
31. I have sent a noble haunch of venison this
afternoon to Mrs. Vanhomrigh: I wish you had it,
sirrahs: I dined gravely with my landlord the secre-
❘tary. The queen was abroad to-day in order to
hunt, but fiuding it disposed to rain, she kept in her
coach: she hunts in a chaise with one horse, which
she drives herself, and drives furiously, like Jehu,
and is a mighty hunter, like Nimrod. Dingley has
heard of Nimrod, but not Stella, for it is in the
Bible. I was to-day at Eton, which is but just
cross the bridge, to see my lord Kerry's son, who is
at school there. Mr. Secretary has given me a war-
rant for a buck; I can't send it to MD. It is a sad
thing, faith, considering how Presto loves MD, and
how MD would love Presto's venison for Presto's
sake. God bless the two dear Wexford girls.
|
Aug. 1. We had for dinner the fellow of that
haunch of venison I sent to London; 'twas mighty
fat and good, and eight people at dinner; that was
bad.
bad. The queen and I were going to take the air
this afternoon, but not together; and were both
hindered by a sudden rain. Her coaches and chaises
all went back, and the guards too: and I scoured
into the market-place for shelter. I intended to
bave walked up the finest avenue I ever saw, two
miles long, with two rows of elms on each side. I
walked in the evening a little upon the terrace, and
came home at eight: Mr. Secretary came soon after,
and we were engaging in deep discourse, and I was
endeavouring to settle some points of the greatest
consequence; and had wormed myself pretty well
into him, when his under-secretary came in (who
lodges in the same house with us) and interrupted
all my scheme. I have just left him; 'tis late, &c.
2. I have been now five days at Windsor. and
Patrick has been drunk three times that I have seen,
and oftener I believe. He has lately had clothes
that have cost me five pounds, and the dog thinks
he has the whip hand of me; he begins to master
me; so now I am resolved to part with him, and
will use him without the least pity. The secretary
and I have been walking three or four hours to-day.
The duchess of Shrewsbury asked him, was not that
Dr. Dr., and she could not say my name in English,
but said Dr. Presto, which is Italian for swift.
Whimsical enough, as Billy Swift says.
I go to-
morrow with the secretary to his house at Buckle-
berry, twenty-five miles from hence, and return
early on Sunday morning. I will leave this letter
behind me locked up, and give you an account of
my journey when I return.
I had a letter yesterday
from the bishop of Clogher, who is coming up to
Dublin to his parliament. Have you any corre-
spondence with him at Wexford? Methinks I now
long for a letter from you, dated Wexford, July 24,
&c. O Lord, that would be so pretending; and
then, says you, Stella can't write much, because it
204
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
is bad to write when one drinks the waters; and I
think, says you, I find myself better already, but I
cannot tell yet whether it be the journey or the
waters. Presto is so silly to-night; yes, he be; but
Presto loves MD dearly, as hope saved.
3. Morning. I am to go this day at noon, as I
told you, to Buckleberry; we dine at twelve, and
expect to be there in four hours; I cannot bid you
good night now, because I shall be twenty-five miles
from this paper to-night, and so my journal must
have a break; so good morrow, &c.
His
4, 5. I dined yesterday at Buckleberry, where we
lay two nights, aud set out this morning at eight,
and were here at twelve; in four hours we went
twenty-six miles. Mr. Secretary was a perfect coun-
try gentleman at Buckleberry; he smoked tobacco
with one or two neighbours; he inquired after the
wheat in such a field; he went to visit his hounds,
and knew all their names; he and his lady saw me
to my chamber just in the country fashion.
house is in the midst of near three thousand pounds
a-year he had by his lady, who is descended from
Jack of Newbury, of whom books and ballads are
written; aud there is an old picture of him in the
house.
I lost
She is a great favourite of mine.
church to-day; but I dressed, and shaved, and went
to court, and would not dine with the secretary, but
engaged myself to a private dinner with Mr. Lewis,
and one friend more. We go to London to-mor-
row; for lord Dartmouth, the other secretary, is
come, and they are here their weeks by turns.
6. Lord-treasurer comes every Saturday to Wind-
sor, and goes away on Monday or Tuesday. I was
with him this morning at his levee, for one cannot
see him otherwise here, he is so hurried: we had
some talk, and I told him I would stay this week at
Windsor by myself, where I can have more leisure
to do some business that concerns them. Lord-
treasurer and the secretary thought to mortify me;
for they told me they had been talking a great deal
of me to-day to the queen, and she said she had
never heard of me. I told them that was their fault,
and not hers, &c., and so we laughed. I dined
with the secretary, and let him go to London at five
without me; and here am I all alone in the pre-
bendary's house, which Mr. Secretary has taken;
only Mr. Lewis is in my neighbourhood, and we
shall be good company. The vice-chamberlain [Mr.
Coke], and Mr. Masham, and the green cloth, have
promised me dinners. I shall want but four till
We have a music meeting
Mr. Secretary returns.
in our town to-night. I went to the rehearsal of it,
and there was Margarita and her sister, and another
drab, and a parcel of fiddlers; I was weary, and
would not go to the meeting, which I am sorry for,
because I heard it was a great assembly. Mr. Lewis
came from it, and sat with me till just now and
'tis late.
7. I can do no business I fear, because Mr.
Lewis, who has nothing or little to do here, sticks
close to me. I dined to-day with the gentlemen
ushers, among scurvy company; but the queen was
hunting the stag till four this afternoon, and she
drove in her chaise above forty miles, and it was five
before we went to dinner. Here are fine walks
about this town. I sometimes walk up the avenue.
8. There was a drawing-room to-day at court,
but so few company, that the queen sent for us into
her bedchamber, where we made our bows, and
stood about twenty of us round the room, while she
looked at us round with her fan in her mouth, and
once a minute said about three words to some that
were nearest her, and then she was told dinner was
ready, and went out. I dined at the green cloth,
by Mr. Scarborow's invitation, wh is in waiting-
It is much the best table in England, and costs the
queen a thousand pounds a month while she is at
Windsor or Hampton Court; and is the only mark
of magnificence or hospitality I can see in the
queen's family: it is designed to entertain foreign
ministers, and people of quality, who come to see
the queeu, and have no place to dine at.
9. Mr. Coke made me a long visit this morning,
and invited me to dinner, but the toast, his lady,
was unfortunately engaged to lady Sunderland.
Lord-treasurer stole here last night, but did not lie
in his lodgings in the castle; and after seeing the
queen, went back again. I just drank a dish of
chocolate with him. I fancy I shall have reason to
be angry with him very soon: but what care 1? I
believe I shall die with ministries in my debt This
night I received a certain letter from a place called
Wexford, from two dear naughty girls of my ac-
quaintance; but faith I won't answer it here, no, in
I will send this to Mr. Reading, supposing
troth.
it will find you returned; and I hope better for the
waters.
10. Mr. Vice-chamberlain lent me his horses to
ride about and see the country this morning. Dr.
Arbuthnot, the queen's physician and favourite,
went out with me to show me the places; we went
a little after the queen, and overtook Miss Forester,
a maid of honour, on her palfrey, taking the air:
we made her go along with us. We saw a place
they have made for a famous horse-race to-morrow,
We met the queen
where the queen will come.
coming back, and Miss Forester stood, like us, with
her hat off while the queen went by. The doctor
and I left the lady where we found her, but under
other conductors, and we dined at a little place he
has taken, about a mile off.-When I came back I
found Mr. Scarborow had sent all about to invite
me to the green cloth, and lessened his company on
purpose to make me easy. It is very obliging, and
will cost me thanks. Much company is come to
town this evening, to see to-morrow's race.
tired with riding a trotting mettlesome horse a dozen
miles, having not been on horseback this twelve-
month. And Miss Forester did not make it easier
she is a silly true maid of honour, and I did not like
her, although she be a toast, and was dressed like
a man.
I was
11. I will send this letter to-day. I expect the
I will not go to the race, unless
secretary by noon.
Fare-
I can get room in some coach. It is now morning.
I must rise, and fold up and seal my letter.
well, and God preserve dearest MD.
I believe I shall leave this town on Monday.
LETTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.
Windsor, Aug. 11, 1711.
;
I SENT away my 27th this morning in an express to
London, and directed to Mr. Reading: this shall
you will be re-
go to your lodgings, where I reckon
turned before it reaches you. I intended to go to
the race to-day, but was hindered by a visit; I be-
lieve I told you so in my last. I dined to-day at
the green cloth, where everybody had been at the
race but myself, and we were twenty in all, and very
noisy company; but I made the vice-chamberlain
and two friends more sit at a side-table to be a little
quiet. At six I went to see the secretary, who is
returned; but lord-keeper sent to desire I would
sup with him, where I stayed till just now: lord-
treasurer and secretary were to come to us, but both
failed. 'Tis late, &c.
12. I was this morning to visit lord-keeper, who
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
205
made me reproaches that I had never visited him at
Windsor. He had a present sent him of delicious
peaches, and he was champing, and champing, but I
durst not eat one; I wished Dingley had some of
them, for poor Stella can no more eat fruit than
Presto. Dilly Ashe is come to Windsor; and after
church I carried him up to the drawing-room, and
talked to the keeper and treasurer, on purpose to
show them to him, and he saw the queen and several
great lords, and the duchess of Montague: he was
mighty happy, and resolves to fill a letter to the
bishop [of Clogher]. My friend Lewis and I dined
soberly with Dr. Adams, the only neighbour pre-
bendary. One of the prebendaries here is lately a
peer, by the death of his father. He is now lord
Willoughby, of Brooke, and will sit in the house of
lords with his gown. I supped to-night at Masham's
with lord-treasurer, Mr. Secretary, and Prior.
treasurer made us stay till twelve before he came
from the queen, and 'tis now past two.
The
13. I reckoned upon going to London to-day;
but by an accident the cabinet council did not sit
last night, and sat to-day, so we go to-morrow at six
in the morning. I missed the race to-day by coming
too late, when everybody's coach was gone, and ride
I would not; I felt my last riding three days after.
We had a dinner to-day at the secretary's lodgings
without him: Mr. Hare, his under-secretary, Mr.
Lewis, brigadier Sutton, and I dined together, and
I made the vice-chamberlain take a snap with us,
rather than stay till five for his lady, who was gone
to the race. The reason why the cabinet council
was not held last night was, because Mr. secretary
St. John would not sit with your duke of Somerset.
So to-day the duke was forced to go to the race
while the cabinet was held. We have music meet-
ings in our town, and I was at the rehearsal t'other
day, but I did not value it, nor would go to the
meeting. Did I tell you this before?
Loudon, 14. We came to town this day in two
hours and forty minutes: twenty miles are nothing
here. I found a letter from the archbishop of
Dublin, sent me the Lord knows how.
He says
some of the bishops will hardly believe that lord-
treasurer got the queen to remit the first-fruits be-
fore the duke of Ormond was declared lord-lieu-
tenant; and that the bishops have written a letter
to lord-treasurer to thank him. He has sent me the
address of the convocation, ascribing, in good part,
that affair to the duke, who had less share in it than
MD;
for if it had not been for MD, I should not
have been so good a solicitor. I dined to-day in
the city, about a little bit of mischief with a printer.
-I found Mrs. Vanhomrigh all in combustion,
squabbling with her rogue of a landlord; she has
left her house, and gone out of our neighbourhood a
good way.
Her eldest daughter is come of age, and
going to Ireland to look after her fortune, and get it
in her own hands.
15. I dined to-day with Mrs. Van, who goes to-
night to her new lodgings. I went at six to see
lord-treasurer, but his company was gone, contrary
to custom, and he was busy, and I was forced to stay
some time before I could see him. We were toge-
ther hardly an hour, and he went away, being in
haste. He desired me to dine with him on Friday,
because there would be a friend of his that I must
see
my lord Harley told me, when he was gone,
that it was Mrs. Masham his father meant, who is
come to town to lie in, and whom I never saw,
though her husband is one of our society. God
send her a good time; her death would be a terrible.
thing. Do you know that I have ventured all my
credit with these great ministers to clear some un-
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derstandings between them; and, if there be no
'Tis a
breach, I ought to have the merit of it.
plaguy ticklish piece of work, and a man hazards
losing both sides. 'Tis a pity the world does not
know my virtue.-I thought the clergy in convoca-
tion in Ireland would have given me thanks for
being their solicitor, but I hear of no such thing.
Pray talk occasionally on that subject, and let me
know what you hear. Do you know the greatness
of my spirit, that I value their thanks not a rush ?
but at my return shall freely let all people know
that it was my lord-treasurer's action, wherein the
duke of Ormond had no more share than a cat. And
so they may go whistle, and I'll go sleep.
16. I was this day in the city, and dined at Pon-
tack's with Stratford and two other merchants.
Pontack told us, although his wine was so good, he
sold it cheaper than others, he took but seven shil-
lings a flask.
The
Are not these pretty rates?
books he sent for from Hamburgh are come, but
not yet got out of the custom-house. My library
will be at least double when I come back.
go to Windsor again on Saturday, to meet our so-
ciety, who are to sup at Mr. Secretary's; but I be-
lieve I shall return on Monday, and then I will an-
swer your letter, that lies safe here underneath :-I
see it; lie still; I'll answer you when the ducks
have eaten up the dirt.
I shall
17. I dined to-day at lord-treasurer's with Mrs.
Masham, and she is extremely like one Mrs. Malolly,
that was once my landlady in Trim. She was used
with mighty kindness and respect, like a favourite.
It signifies nothing going to this lord-treasurer about
business, although it be his own. He was in haste,
and desires I will come again and dine with him
to-morrow. His famous lying porter is fallen sick,
and they think he will die: I wish I had all my
half-crowns again. I believe I have told you he is
an old Scotch fanatic, and the damn'dest liar in his
office alive. I have a mind to recommend Patrick
to succeed him: I have trained him up pretty well.
I reckon for certain you are now in town. The
weather now begins to alter to rain.
Windsor, 18. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer,
and he would make me go with him to Windsor,
although I was engaged to the secretary, to whom I
made my excuses: we had in the coach besides, his
son and son-in law, lord Dupplin, who are two of
our society, and seven of us met by appointment,
and supped this night with the secretary. It was
past nine before we got here, but a fine moonshiny
night.
night. I shall go back, I believe, on Monday. 'Tis
very late.
19. The queen did not stir out to-day, she is in a
little fit of the gout. I dined at Mr. Masham's; we
had none but our society members, six in all, and I
supped with lord-treasurer. The queen has ordered
twenty thousand pounds to go on with the building
at Blenheim, which has been starved till now, since
the change of the ministry. I suppose it is to reward
his last action of getting into the French lines
Lord-treasurer kept me till past twelve.
London, 20. It rained terribly every step of our
journey to-day; I returned with the secretary after
a dinner of cold meat, and went to Mrs. Vau's,
where I sat the evening. I grow very idle, because
I have a great deal of business. Tell me how you
passed your time at Wexford; and an't you glad at
heart you have got safe home to your lodgings at
St. Mary's, pray and so your friends come to visit
you: and Mrs. Walls is much better of her eye:
and the dean is just as he used to be: and what
does Walls say of London? 'tis a reasoning coacomb.
And Goody Stoyte, and Hannah what-d'ye-call-her :
206
JOURNAL TO STELLA
+
no, her name en't Hannah, Catharine I mean; they
were so glad to see the ladies again; and Mrs. Man-
ley wanted a companion at ombre.
21. I writ to-day to the archbishop of Dublin,
and enclosed a long politic paper by itself. You
know the bishops are all angry that (smoke the
wax-candle drop at the bottom of this paper) I have
let the world know the first-fruits were got by lord-
treasurer before the duke of Ormond was governor.
I told lord-treasurer all this, and he is very angry;
but I pacified him again by telling him they were
fools, and knew nothing of what passed here, but
thought all was well enough if they complimented
the duke of Ormond. Lord-treasurer gave me
t'other day a letter of thanks he received from the
bishops of Ireland, signed by seventeen, and says
he will write them an answer. The dean of Carlisle
sat with me to-day till three, and I went to dine
with lord-treasurer, who dined abroad, so did the
secretary, and I was left in the suds. 'Twas almost
four, and I got to sir Matthew Dudley, who had
half dined. Thornhill, who killed sir Cholmley
Dering, was murdered by two men on Turnham-
green last Monday night: as they stabbed him, they
bid him remember sir Cholmley Dering. They had
quarrelled at Hampton-court, and followed and
stabbed him on horseback. We have only a Grub-
street paper of it, but I believe it is true. I went
myself through Turnham-green the same night,
which was yesterday.
22. We have had terrible rains these two or three
days. I intended to dine at lord-treasurer's, but
went to see lady Abercorn, who is come to town,
and my lord; and I dined with them, and visited
iord-treasurer this evening. His porter is mending.
I sat with my lord about three hours, and am come
home early to be busy. Passing by White's choco-
late-house, my brother Masham called me, and told
me his wife was brought to-bed of a boy, and both
very well. (Our society, you must know, are all
brothers.) Dr. Garth told us that Mr. Henley is
dead of an apoplexy. His brother-in-law, earl
Poulet, is gone down to the Grange to take care of
his funeral. The earl of Danby, the duke of Leeds'
eldest grandson, a very hopeful young man of about
twenty, is dead at Utrecht of the small-pox. I long
to know whether you begin to have any good effect
by your waters. Methinks this letter goes on slowly;
'twill be a fortnight next Saturday since it was begun,
and one side not filled. O fie, for shame, Presto.
Faith, I'm so tosticated to and from Windsor, that
I know not what to say; but faith, I'll go to Wind-
sor again on Saturday, if they ask me, not else.
So
lose your money again now you are come home, do,
sirrah.
Take your magnifying glass, madam Dingley.
You shan't read this, sirrah Stella; don't read it
for your life, for fear of your dearest eyes.
There's enough for this side; these ministers
hinder me.
Pretty, dear, little, naughty, saucy MD.
Silly, impudent, loggerhead Presto.
23. Dilly and I dined to-day with lord Abercorn,
and had a fine fat haunch of venison, that smelt
rarely on one side, and after dinner Dilly won half
a crown of me at backgammon, at his lodgings, with
great content. It is a scurvy empty town this me-
lancholy season of the year, but I think our weather
begins to mend. The roads are as deep as in winter.
The grapes are sad things, but the peaches are pretty
good, and there are some figs. I sometimes venture
to eat one, but always repent it. You say nothing
of the box sent half a year ago.
I wish you would
pay me for Mre Walls's tea. Your mother is in the
country, I suppose. Pray send me the account of
MD, madam Dingley, as it stands since November,
that is to say, for this year (excluding the twenty
pounds lent Stella for Wexford), for I cannot look
in your letters. I think I ordered that Hawkshaw's
interest should be paid to you. When you think
proper, I will let Parvisol know you have paid that
twenty pounds, or part of it; and su go play with
the dean, and I will answer your letter to-morrow.
Good night, sirrahs, and love Presto, and be good girls.
24. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer, who chid
me for not dining with him yesterday; for it seems
I did not understand his invitation; and their club
of the ministry dined together, and expected me.
Lord Radnor and I were walking the Mall this even-
ing; and Mr. Secretary met us, and took a turn or
two, and then stole away, and we both believe it was
to pick up some wench; and to-morrow he will be
at the cabinet with the queen; so goes the world.
Prior has been out of town these two months, no-
body knows where, and is lately returned. People
confidently affirm he has been in France, and I half
believe it. It is said he was sent by the ministry,
and for some overtures toward a peace.
The secre-
tary pretends he knows nothing of it. I believe
your parlianent will be dissolved. I have been talk-
ing about the quarrel between your lords and com-
inous with lord-treasurer; and did, at the request
of some people, desire that the queen's answer to
the commons' address might express a dislike to some
principles, &c., but was answered dubiously. And
so now to your letter, fair ladies. I know drinking
is bad; I mean writing is bad in drinking the waters ;
and was angry to see so much in Stella's hand. But
why Dingley drinks them I cannot imagine; but
truly she'll drink waters as well as Stella. Why not?
I hope you now find the benefit of them since you
are returned: pray let me know particularly. I am
glad you are forced upon exercise, which, I believe,
is as good as the waters for the heart of them. 'Tis
now past the middle of August; so by your reckon-
ing you are in Dublin. It would vex me to the dogs
that letters should miscarry between Dublin and
Wexford, after 'scaping the salt sea. I will write
no more to that nasty town in haste again, I warrant
you. I have been four Sundays together at Windsor,
of which a fortnight together; but I believe I shall
not go to-morrow, for I will not unless the secretary
asks me. I know all your news about the mayor: it
makes no noise here at all, but the quarrel of your
parliament does; it is so very extraordinary, and the
language of the commons so very pretty. The
Examiner has been down this month, and was very
silly the five or six last papers; but there is a pam-
phlet come out, in answer to a Letter to the Seven
Lords who examined Gregg.a The answer is by
the real author of the Examiner, as I believe, for it
is very well written [Swift himself]. We had Trap's
poem on the duke of Ormond printed here, and the
printer sold just eleven of them. 'Tis a dull piece,
not half so good as Stella's; and she is very modest
to compare herself with such a poetaster. I am
heartily sorry
heartily sorry for poor Mrs. Parnell's death; she
seemed to be an excellent good-natured young
woman, and I believe the poor lad is much afflicted;
they appeared to live perfectly well together. Dilly
is not tired at all with England, but intends to con-
tinue here a good while; he is mighty easy to be at
distance from his two sisters-in law. He finds some
sort of scrub acquaintance; goes now and then in
disguise to a play; smokes his pipe; reads now and
then a little trash, and what else the Lord knows.
• A clerk in Harley's office, convicted of treasonable corre
Dondence.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
207
I see him now and then; for he calls here, and the
town being thin, I am less pestered with company
than usual. I have got rid of many of my solicitors,
by doing nothing for them: I have not above eight
or nine left, and I'll be as kiud to them. Did I tell
you of a knight, who desired me to speak to lord-
treasurer to give him two thousand pounds, or five
hundred pounds a-year, until he could get some-
thing better? I honestly delivered my message to the
treasurer, adding, the knight was a puppy, whom I
would not give a groat to save from the gallows.
Cole Reading's father-in law has been two or three
times at me to recommend his lights to the ministry;
assuring me that a word of mine would, &c. Did not
that dog use to speak ill of me, and profess to hate me?
He knows not where I lodge, for I told him I lived
in the country; and I have ordered Patrick to deny
me constantly to him.-Did the bishop of London
die in Wexford? poor gentleman! did he drink the
waters? were you at his burial? was it a great fune-
ral? so far from his friends! But he was very old:
we shall all follow. And yet it was a pity, if God
pleased. He was a good man; not very learned; I
believe he died but poor. Did he leave any charity
legacies? who held up his pall? was there a great
sight of clergy? do they design a tomb for him? are
you sure it was the bishop of London? because
there is an elderly gentleman here that we give the
same title to: or did you fancy all this in your water,
as others do strange things in their wine! They say
these waters trouble the head, and make people
imagine what never came to pass. Do you make no
more of killing a bishop? are these your Whiggish
tricks-Yes, yes, I see you are in a fret.
says you, saucy Presto, I'll break your head; what,
can't one report what one hears, without being
made a jest and a laughing-stock? are these your
English tricks, with a murrain ?—and Sacheverell
will be the next bishop ?—he would be glad of an
addition of two hundred pounds a-year to what
he has; and that is more than they will give, for
aught I see. He hates the new ministry mortally,
and they hate him, and pretend to despise him too.
They will not allow him to have been the occasion
of the late change; at least some of them will not;
but my lord-keeper owned it to me t'other day. No,
Mr. Addison does not go to Ireland this year: he
pretended he would; but he is gone to Bath with
Pastoral Philips for his eyes. So now I have run
over your letter; and I think this shall go to-morrow,
which will be just a fortnight from the last, and
bring things to the old form again after your rambles
to Wexford, and mine to Windsor. Are there not
many literal faults in my letters? I never read them
over, and I fancy there are. What do you do then?
do you guess my meaning; or are you acquainted
with my manner of mistaking? I lost my handker-
chief in the Mall to-night with lord Raduor; but I
made him walk with me to find it, and find it I did
not.
O faith,
Tisdall (that lodges with me) and I have had
no conversation, nor do we pull off our hats in the
streets. There is a cousin of his (I suppose), a
young parson, that lodges in the house too; a hand-
some genteel fellow. Dick
Dick Tighea and his wife
lodged over against us; and he has been seen, out
of our upper windows, beating her two or three
times; they are both gone to Ireland, but not toge-
ther; and he solemnly vows never to live with her.
Neighbours do not stick to say she has a tongue; in
short, I am told she is the most urging, provoking
devil that ever was born; and he a hot whiffling
puppy, very apt to resent. I'll keep this bottom
till to-morrow: I'm sleepy.
• Afterwards a privy councillor in Ireland.
;
25. I was with the secretary this morning, who
was in a mighty hurry, and went to Windsor in a
chariot with lord-keeper; so I was not invited, and
am forced to stay at home. but not at all against my
will; for I could have gone, and would not. I dined in
the city with one of my printers, for whom I got the
Gazette, and am come home early; and have nothing
to say to you more, but finish this letter, and not
send it by the bellman. Days grow short, and the
weather grows bad, and the town is splenetic, and
things are so oddly contrived, that I cannot be ab-
sent; otherwise I would go for a few days to Oxford,
as I promised. They say, 'tis certain that Prior has
been in France; nobody doubts it: I had not time
to ask the secretary, he was in such haste. Well,
I will take my leave of dearest MD for a while
for I must begin my next letter to-night: consider
that, young women; and pray be merry, and good
girls, and love Presto. There is now but one busi-
ness the ministry warts me for; and when that is
done I will take my leave of them. I never got a
penny from them, nor expect it. In my opinion,
some things stand very ticklish; I dare say nothing
at this distance. Farewell, dear sirrahs, dearest
lives: there is peace and quiet with MD, and no-
where else. They have not leisure here to think of
small things, which may ruin them; and I have been
forward enough. Farewell again, dearest rogues
I am never happy but when I write or think of MD.
I have enough of courts and ministers; and wish I
were at Laracor; and if I could with honour come
away this moment, I would. Bernage came to see
me to-day; he is just landed from Portugal, and
come to raise recruits; he looks very well, and seems
pleased with his station and manner of life: he never
saw London nor England before; he is ravished with
Kent, which was his first prospect when he landed.
Farewell again, &c. &c.
LETTER THE TWENY-NINTH.
London, Aug. 25, 1711.
>
I HAVE got a pretty small gilt sheet of paper to write
to MD. I have this moment sent my 28th by
Patrick, who tells me he has put it in the post-office.
"Tis directed to your lodgings; if it wants more par-
ticular direction, you must set me right. It is now
a solar month and two days since the date of your
last, No. 18, and I reckon you are now quiet at home,
and thinking to begin your 19th, which will be full of
your quarrel between the two houses: all which I
know already. Where shall I dine to-morrow? can
you tell? Mrs. Vanhomrigh boards now, and cannot
invite one; and there I used to dine when I was at
a loss; and all my friends are gone out of town,
and your town is now at the fullest with your par-
liament and convocation. But let me alone, sirrahs;
for Presto is going to be very busy; not Presto, but
t'other I.
26. People have so left the town, that I am at a
loss for a dinner. It is a long time since I have been
at London upon a Sunday; and the ministers are all
at Windsor. It cost me eighteenpence in coach-
hire before I could find a place to dine in. I went
to Frankland's, and he was abroad; and the drab
his wife looked out of window, and bowed to me
without inviting me up; so I dined with Mr. Coote,
my lord Montrath's brother; my lord is with you in
Ireland. This morning at five my lord Jersey died
of the gout in his stomach, or apoplexy, or both: he
was abroad yesterday, and his death was sudden; be
was chamberlain to king William, and a great
favourite, turned out by the queen as a Tory, and
stood now fair to be privy-seal; and by his death will,
208
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
I suppose, make that matter easier, which has been a
very stubborn business at court, as I have been in-
formed. I never remembered so many people of
quality to have died in so short a time.
27. I went to-day into the city to thank Stratford
for my books, and dine' with him, and settle my
affairs of my money in the bank, and receive a bill
for Mrs. Wesley, for some things to buy for her; and
the d- a one of all these could I do. The mer-
chants were all out of town, aud I was forced to go
to a little hedge place for my dinner. May my enemies
live here in summer! and yet I am so unlucky, that
I cannot possibly be out of the way at this juncture.
People leave the town so late in summer, and return
so late in winter, that they have almost inverted the
seasons. It is autumn this good while in St. James's
park; the limes have been losing their leaves, and
those remaining on the trees are all parched. 1
hate this season, where everything grows worse and
worse. The only good thing of it is the fruit, and
that I dare not eat.-Had you any fruit at Wex-
ford? a few cherries, and durst not eat them. I do
not hear we have yet got a new privy seal.
The
Whigs whisper that our new ministry differ among
themselves, and they begin to talk out Mr. Secretary.
They have some reason for their whispers, although
I thought it was a greater secret. I do not much |
like the posture of things; I always apprehended
that any falling out would ruin them, and so I have
told them several times. The Whigs are mighty full
of hopes at prescut; and, whatever is the matter,
all kind of stocks fall. I have not yet talked with
the secretary about Prior's journey. I should be
apt to think it may foretel a peace; and that is all
we have to preserve us. The secretary is not come
from Windsor; but I expect him to-morrow. Burn
all politics!
28. We begin to have fine weather, and I walked
to-day to Chelsea, and dined with the dean of Car-
lisle, who is laid up with the gout. It is now fixed
that he is to be dean of Christ Church, in Oxford.
I was advising him to use his interest to prevent any
misunderstanding between our ministers; but he is
too wise to meddle, though he fears the thing and con-
sequences as much as I. He will get into his own
warm quict deanery, and leave them to themselves;
and he is in the right. When I came home to-night
I found a letter from Mr. Lewis, who is now at
Windsor; and in it, forsooth, another, which looked
like Presto's hand; and what should it be but a 19th |
from MD? O faith, I 'scaped narrowly, for I sent
my 28th but on Saturday; and what should I have
done if I had two letters to answer at once? I did
not expect another from Wexford, that's certain.
Well, I must be contented; but you are dear saucy
girls, for all that, to write so soon again, faith; an't
you?
29. I dined to-day with lord Abercorn, and took
my leave of them; they set out to-morrow for Ches-
ter; and, I believe, will now fix in Ireland. They
have made a pretty good journey of it. His eldest
son is married to a lady with ten thousand pounds;
and his son has t'other day got a prize in the lottery
of four thousand pounds, beside two small ones of
two hundred pounds each: nay, the family was so
fortunate, that my lord bestowing one ticket, which
is a hundred pounds, to one of his servants, who had
been his page, the young fellow got a prize, which
has made it another hundred. I went in the
evening to lord-treasurer, who desires I will dine
with him to-morrow, when he will show me the an-
swer he designs to return to the letter of thanks from
your bishops in Ireland. The archbishop of Dublin
desired me to get myself mentioned in the answer
Ho
which my lord would send ; but I sent him word 1
would not open my lips to my lord upon it.
says it would convince the bishops of what I have
affirmed, that the first-fruits were granted before the
duke of Ormond was declared governor; and I writ
to him that I would not give a farthing to convince
them. My lord-treasurer began a health to my
lord privy-seal: Prior punned, and said it was so
privy, he knew not who it was; but I fancy they
have fixed it all, and we shall know to-morrow.
But what care you who is privy-seal, saucy slut-
tikins?
30. When I went out this morning I was surprised
with the news that the bishop of Bristol is made lord
privy-seal. You know his name is Robinson, and
that he was many years envoy in Sweden. All the
friends of the present ministry are extreme glad, and
the clergy above the rest. The Whigs will fret to
death to see a civil employment given to a clergyman.
It was a very handsome thing in my lord-treasurer,
and will bind the church to him for ever. I dined
with him to-day, but he had not written his letter ;
but told me he would not offer to send it without
showing it to me he thought that would not be just,
since I was so deeply concerned in the affair.
had much company; lord Rivers, Marr, and Kin-
noul, Mr. Secretary, George Granville, and Masham;
the last has invited me to the christening of his son
to-morrow se'ennight; and on Saturday I go to
Windsor with Mr Secretary.
We
31. Dilly and I walked to-day to Kensington to
lady Mountjoy, who invited us to dinner. He re-
turned soon to go to the play, it being the last that
will be acted for some time; he dresses himself like
a beau, and no doubt makes a fine figure. I went
to visit some people at Kensington. Ophy Butler's
wife there lies very ill of an ague, which is a very
common disease here, and little known in Ireland.
I am apt to think we shall soon have a peace, by the
little words I hear thrown out by the ministry. I
have just thought of a project to bite the town.
have told you that it is now known that Mr. Prior
has been lately in France. I will make a printer of
my own sit by me one day, and I will dictate to him
a formal relation of Prior's journey, with several
particulars, all pure invention; and I doubt not but
it will take.
1
September 1. Morning.-I go to-day to Windsor
with Mr. Secretary; and lord-treasurer has promised to
bring me back. The weather has been fine for some
time, and I believe we shall have a great deal of dust.
At night. Windsor.-The secretary and I, and briga.
dier Sutton, dined to-day at Parson's-green, at my
lord Peterborow's house, who has left it and his gar-
dens to the secretary during his absence. It is the
finest garden I have ever seen about this town, and
abundance of hot walls for grapes, where they are in
great plenty, and ripening fast. I durst not eat any
fruit but one fig; but I brought a basketful to my
Does Stella never
friend Lewis here at Windsor.
eat any what, no apricots at Donnybrook? nothing
but claret and ombre? I envy people maunching
and maunching peaches and grapes, and I not daring
to eat a bit. My head is pretty well, only a sudden turn
any time makes me giddy for a moment, and some-
times it feels very stuffed; but if it grows no worse,
I
can bear it very well.
well. I take all opportunities of
walking; and we have a delicious park here just
joining to the castle, and an avenue in the great park
very wide, and two miles long, set with a double
row of elms on each side. Were you ever at Wind-
sor? I was once a great while ago; but had quite
forgotten it.
2. The queen has the gout, and did not come to
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
chapel, nor stir out from her chamber, but received
the sacrament there, as she always does the first
Sunday in the month. Yet we had a great court,
and among others I saw your Ingoldsby, who, see-
ing me talk very familiarly with the keeper, trea-
surer, &c., came up and saluted me, and began a
very impertinent discourse about the siege of Bou-
chain.
My
I told him I could not answer his questions,
but I would bring him one that should; so I went
and fetched Sutton (who brought over the express
about a month ago), and delivered him to the gene-
ral, and bid him answer his questions? and so I left
them together. Sutton, after some time, came back
in rage finds me with lord Rivers and Masham,
and there complains of the trick I had played him,
and swore he had been plagued to death with In-
goldsby's talk. But he told me Ingoldsby asked
him what I meant by bringing him; so I suppose
he smoked me a little. So we laughed, &c.
lord Willoughby, who is one of the chaplains, and
prebendary of Windsor, read prayers last night to
the family; and the bishop of Bristol, who is dean
of Windsor, officiated last night at the cathedral.
This they do to be popular, and it pleases mightily.
I dined with Mr. Masham, because he lets me have
a select company. For the court here have got
by the end a good thing I said to the secretary some
weeks ago.
He showed me his bill of fare to tempt
me to dine with him; Poh, said I, I value not your
bill of fare; give me your bill of company. Lord-
treasurer was mightily pleased, and told it everybody
as a notable thing. I reckon upon returning to-
morrow; they say the bishop will then have the
privy-seal delivered him at a great council.
3. Windsor still. The council was held so late
to-day, that I do not go back to town till to-morrow.
The bishop was sworn privy-counsellor, and had the
privy-seal given him: and now the patents are
passed for those who were this long time to be made
lords or earls. Lord Raby, who is earl of Strafford,
is on Thursday to marry a namesake of Stella's; the
daughter of sir H. Johnson in the city; he has three-
score thousand pounds with her, ready money, beside
the rest at the father's death. I have got my friend
Stratford to be one of the directors of the South Sea
company, who were named to-day. My lord-treasurer
did it for me a month ago; and one of those whom
I got to be printer of the Gazette I am recommending
to be printer to the same company. He treated Mr.
Lewis and me to-day at dinner. I supped last night
and this with lord-treasurer, keeper, &c., and took
occasion to mention the printer. I said it was the
same printer whom my lord-treasurer has appointed
to print for the South Sea company; he denied, and
I insisted on it; and I got the laugh on my side.
London, 4. I came as far as Brentford in lord
Rivers's chariot, who had business with lord-trea-
then I went into lord-treasurer's; we stopped
at Kensington, where lord-treasurer went to see Mrs.
Masham, who is now what they call in the straw.
We got to town by three, and I lighted at lord-trea-
surer's, who commanded me not to stir: but I was
not well; and when he went up I begged the young
lord to excuse me, and so went into the city by
water, where I could be easier, and dined with the
printer, and dictated to him some part of Prior's Jour-
ney to France, I walked from the city, for I take all
occasions of exercise. Our journey was horrid dusty.
5. When I went out to-day I found it had rained
mightily in the night, and the streets were as dirty
as winter; it is very refreshing after ten days dry.
I went into the city and dined with Stratford,
thanked him for his books, gave him joy of his be-
ing director, of which he had the first notice by a
surer;
VOL. I.
letter from me. I ate sturgeon, and it lies on my
stomach. I almost finished Prior's Journey at the
printer's, and came home pretty late with Patrick
at my heels.
7. Morning. But what shall we do about this let-
ter of MD's, No. 19? not a word answered yet, and
so much paper spent? I cannot do anything in it,
sweethearts, till night. At night.-O Lord, O Lord,
the greatest disgrace that ever was has happened to
Presto. What do you think? but when I was go
ing out this forenoon a letter came from MD, No.
20, dated at Dublin. O dear, O dear; O sad, O
sad! Now I have two letters together to answer:
here they are, lying together. But I will only an-
swer the first; for I came in late. I dined with
my friend Lewis at his lodgings, and walked at six
to Kensington to Mr. Masham's christening. It was
very private; nobody there but my lord-treasurer,
his son, and son-in-law, that is to say, lord Harley,
and lord Dupplin, and lord Rivers, and I. The
dean of Rochester christened the child, but soon
went away.
Lord-treasurer and lord Rivers were
godfathers, and Mrs. Hill, Mrs. Masham's sister,
godmother. The child roared like a bull, and I gave
Mrs. Masham joy of it; and she charged me to take
care of my nephew, because, Mr. Masham being
a brother of our society, his son you know is
Mrs. Masham sat up
consequently a nephew.
dressed in bed, but not as they do in Ireland, with
all smooth about her, as if she was cut off in the
middle; for you might see the counterpane (what
d'ye call it?) rise above her hips and body. There's
another name of the counterpane, and you'll laugh
now, sirrabs. George Granville came in at supper,
and we stayed till eleven, and lord-treasurer set me
Did I ever
down at my lodgings in Suffolk-street.
tell you that lord-treasurer hears ill with the left
ear, just as I do? He always turns the right; and
his servants whisper him at that only. I dare not
tell him that I am so too, for fear he should think I
counterfeited, to make my court.
6. You must read this before the other; for I mis-
took and forgot to write yesterday's journal, it was
so insignificant: I dined with Dr. Cockburn, and
sat the evening with lord-treasurer till ten o'clock.
On Thursdays he has always a large select company,
and expects me. So good night for last night, &c.
8. Morning.-I go to Windsor with lord-treasurer
to-day, and will leave this behind me to be sent to
the post. And now let us hear what says the first
letter, No. 19. You are still at Wexford, as you say,
madam Dingley. I think no letter from me ever
yet miscarried. And so Inish-Corthy [Enniscorthy,
county of Wexford] and the river Slainy; fine words
those in a lady's mouth. Your hand like Dingley's?
you scambling, scattering, sluttikin : Yes, mighty
like indeed, is it not? Pisshh! don't talk of writing
or reading till your eyes are well, and long well;
only I would have Dingley read sometimes to you,
that you may not quite lose the desire of it. God
be thanked that the ugly numbing is gone. Pray
use exercise when you go to town.
What game is
that ombra which Dr. Elwood and you play at ? is
it the Spanish game ombre? Your card-purse! you a
card-purse! you a fiddlestick. You have luck indeed ;
and luck in a bag. What a devil is that eight-shil-
ling tea-kettle? copper, or tin japauned? It is like
your Irish politeness, raffling for tea-kettles. What
a splutter you keep to convince me that Walls has
no taste! My head continues pretty well. Why
• These words in Italies are written in strange misshapen løt-
ters, inclining to the right hand, in imitation of Stella's wringg.
In Stella's spelling It is an odd thing than a woman of
Stella's understanding should spell extremely ill.
Ρ
210
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
}
do you write, dear sirrah Stella, when you find your
eyes so weak that you cannot see? what comfort is
there in reading what you write, when one knows
that? So Dingley can't write because of the clutter
of new company come to Wexford? I suppose the
noise of their hundred horses disturbs you; or, do
you lie in one gallery, as in an hospital? What, you
are afraid of losing in Dublin the acquaintance you
have got in Wexford; and chiefly the bishop of
Raphoe, an old, doting, perverse coxcomb! Twenty
at a time at breakfast. That is like five pounds at
a time, when it was never but once. I doubt,
madam Dingley, you are apt to lie in your travels,
though not so bad as Stella; she tells thumpers, as
I shall prove in my next, if I find this receives en-
couragement. So Dr. Elwood says there are a
world of pretty things in my works. A pox on his
praises! an enemy here would say more. The duke
of Buckingham would say as much, though he and
I are terribly fallen out; and the great men are per-
petually inflaming me against him: they bring me
all he says of me, and, I believe, make it worse, out
of roguery. No, 'tis not your pen is bewitched,
madam Stella, but your old scrawling, splay-foot, |
pot-hooks, s, f, ay, that's it: there the s, f, f, there, |
there, that's exact. Farewell, &c.
}
Our fine weather is gone, and I doubt we shall
have a rainy journey to-day. Faith, 'tis shaving-
day, and I have much to do
When Stella says her pen is bewitched, it was
only because there was a hair in it. You know the
fellow they call God-help-it had the same thoughts
of his wife, and for the same reason. I think this
is very well observed, and I unfolded the letter to
tell you it.
Cut off those two notes above; and see the nine
pounds endorsed, and receive the other; and send
me word how my accounts stand, that they may be
adjusted by Nov. 1. Pray be very particular: but
the twenty pounds I lend you is not to be included;
so make no blunder. I won't wrong you, nor you
shan't wrong me; that's the short. O Lord, how
stout Presto is of late! But he loves MD more
than his life a thousand times, for all his stoutness;
tell him that; and I'll swear it, as hope saved, ten
millions of times, &c. &c.
I open my letter once more to tell Stella that, if
she does not use exercise after her waters, it will
lose all the effects of them: I should not live if I
did not take all opportunities of walking. Pray,
pray, do this to oblige poor Presto.
LETTER THE THIRTIETH.
Windsor, Sept. 8, 1711.
I MADE the coachman stop, and put in my 29th at
the post-office at two o'clock to-day, as I was going
to lord-treasurer, with whom I dined, and came
here by a quarter past eight; but the moon shone,
and so we were not in much danger of overturning ;
which, however, he values not a straw, and only
laughs when I chide at him for it. There was no-
body but he and I, and we supped together, with
Mr. Masham and Dr. Arbuthnot, the queen's fa-
vourite physician, a Scotchman. I could not keep
myself awake after supper, but did all I was able to
disguise it, and thought I came off clear; but at
parting he told me I had got my nap already. It
is now one o'clock; but he loves sitting up late.
9. The queen is still in the gout, but recovering;
she saw company in her bedchamber after church
but the crowd was so great I could not see her.
I
• These words in Italics, and the two esses that follow, arc
miserably scrawled, in imitation of Stella's hand,
dined with my brother, sir William Wyndham, and
some others of our society, to avoid the great tables
on Sunday at Windsor, which I hate. The usual
company supped to-night at lord-treasurer's, which
was lord-keeper, Mr. Secretary, George Granville,
Masham, Arbuthnot, and I. But showers have
hindered me from walking to-day, and that I don't
love.-Noble fruit, and I dare not eat a bit. I ate
one fig to-day, and sometimes a few mulberries, be-
cause it is said they are wholesome, and you know
a good name does much. I shall return to town to-
morrow, though I thought to have stayed a week,
to be at leisure for something I am doing. But I
have put it off till next; for I shall come here again
on Saturday, when our society are to meet at supper
at Mr. Secretary's. My life is very regular here:
on Sunday morning I constantly visit lord-keeper,
and sup at lord-treasurer's with the same set of com-
pany. I was not sleepy to-night; I resolved I
would not; yet it is past midnight at this present
writing.
London, 10. Lord-treasurer and Masham and I
left Windsor at three this afternoon: we dropped
Masham at Kensington with his lady, and got home
by six. It was seven before we sat down to dinner,
and I stayed till past eleven. Patrick came home
with the secretary: I am more plagued with Patrick
and my portmantua than with myself. I forgot to
tell you that when I went to Windsor on Saturday
I overtook lady Giffard and Mrs. Fenton in a cha-
riot, going, I suppose, to Sheen. I was then in a
chariot too, of lord-treasuser's brother, who had
business with the treasurer; and my lord came
after, and overtook me at Turnham-green, four
miles from London, and then the brother went back,
and I went in the coach with lord-treasurer: so it
happened that those people saw me, and not with
lord-treasurer. Mrs. Fenton was to see me about
a week ago; and desired I would get her son into
the Charterhouse.
11. This morning the printer sent me an account
of Prior's Journey; it makes a twopenny pamphlet ;
I suppose you will see it, for I dare engage it will
run; 'tis a formal grave lie, from the beginning to
the end. I writ all but about the last page, that I
dictated, and the printer writ. Mr. Secretary sent
to me to dine where he did; it was at Prior's;
when I came in Prior showed me the pamphlet,
seemed to be angry, and said, Here is our English
liberty: I read some of it, and said I liked it
mightily, and envied the rogue the thought; for,
had it come into my head, I should have certainly
done it myself. We stayed at Prior's till past ten,
and then the secretary received a packet with the
news of Bouchain being taken, for which the guns
will go off to-morrow. Prior owned his having
been in France, for it was past denying; it seems
he was discovered by a rascal at Dover, who had
positive orders to let him pass. I believe we shall
have a peace.
12. It is terrible rainy weather, and has cost me
three shillings in coaches and chairs to-day, yet 1
was dirty into the bargain. I was three hours this
morning with the secretary about some business of
moment, and then went into the city to dine. The
printer tells me he sold yesterday a thousand of
Prior's Journey, and had printed five hundred more.
It will do rarely, I believe, and is a pure bite. And
what is MD doing all this while? got again to their
cards, their Walls, their deans, their Stoytes, and
their claret? Pray present my service to Mr.
Stoyte and Catherine. Tell Goody Stoyte she owes
me a world of dinners, and I will shortly come over
and demand them.-Did I tell you of the archbishop
}
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
211
of Dublin's last letter? He had been saying in
several of his former that he would shortly write to
me something about myself, and it looked to me as
if he intended something for me: at last out it
comes, and consists of two parts. First, he advises
me to strike in for some preferment now I have
friends; and secondly, he advises me, since I have
parts, and learning, and a happy pen, to think of
some new subject in divinity not handled by others,
which I should manage better than anybody. A
rare spark this, with a pox! but I shall answer him
as rarely. Methinks he should have invited me
over, and given me some hopes or promises. But,
hang him! and so good night, &c.
13. It rained most furiously all this morning till
about twelve, and sometimes thundered; I trembled
for my shillings, but it cleared up, and I made a
shift to get a walk in the park, and then went with
the secretary to dine with lord-treasurer. Upon
Thursdays there is always a select company; we
had the duke of Shrewsbury, lord Rivers, the two
secretaries, Mr. Granville, and Mr. Prior. Half of
them went to council at six; but Rivers, Granville,
Prior, and I, stayed till eight. Prior was often
affecting to be angry at the account of his journey
to Paris; and, indeed, the two last pages, which the
printer had got somebody to add, are so romantic,
they spoil all the rest. Dilly Ashe pretended to me
that he was only going to Oxford and Cambridge for
a fortnight, and then would come back. I could
not see him as I appointed t'other day; but some of
his friends tell me he took leave of them as going to
Ireland; and so they say at his lodging. I believe
the rogue was ashamed to tell me so, because I ad-
vised him to stay the winter, and he said he would.
I find he had got into a good set of scrub acquaint-
ance, and I thought passed his time very merrily;
but I suppose he languished after Balderig and the
claret of Dublin: and after all I think he is in the
right; for he can eat, drink, and converse better
there than here. Bernage was with me this morn-
ing he calls now and then; he is in terrible fear of
a peace.
He said he never had his health so well
as in Portugal. He is a favourite of his colonel.
:
14. I was mortified enough to-day, not knowing
where in the world to dine, the town is so empty;
I met H. Coote, and thought he would invite me,
but he did not: sir John Stanley did not come into
my head; so I took up with Mrs. Van, and dined
with her and her damned landlady, who, I believe
by her eyebrows, is a bawd. This evening I met
Addison and Pastoral Philips in the park, and sup-
ped with them at Addison's lodgings; we were very
good company, and yet know no man half so agree-
able to me as he is. 1 sat with them till twelve, so
you may think 'tis late, young women; however, I
would have some little conversation with MD be-
fore your Presto goes to bed, because it makes me
sleep, and dream, and so forth. Faith, this letter
goes on slowly enough, sirrahs, but I can't write
much at a time till you are quite settled after your
journey you know, and have gone all your visits,
and lost your money at ombre. You never play at
chess now, Stella. That puts me in mind of Dick
Tighe; I fancy I told you he used to beat his wife
here and she deserved it; aud he resolves to part
with her; and they went to Ireland in different
coaches. O Lord, I said all this before, I'm sure.
Go to bed, sirrahs.
:
Windsor, 15. I made the secretary stop at Brent-
ford, because we set out at two this afternoon, and
fasting would not agree with me. I only designed
to eat a bit of bread and butter, but he would light,
and we ate roast beef like dragons. And he made
me treat him and two more gentlemen; faith it cost
me a guinea; I don't like such jesting, yet I was
mightily pleased with it too. To-night our society
met at the secretary's; there were nine of us; and
we have chosen a new member, the earl of Jersey,
whose father died lately. 'Tis past one, and I have
stolen away.
16. I design to stay here this week by myself,
about some business that lies on my hands, and will
take up a great deal of time. Dr. Adams, one of
The
the canons, invited me to-day to dinner.
tables are so full here on Sunday that it is hard to
dine with a few, and Dr. Adams knows I love to du
so; which is very obliging. The queen saw com-
pany in her bedchamber; she looks very well, but
she sat down. I supped with lord-treasurer as
usual, and stayed till past one as usual, and with
our usual company, except lord-keeper, who did not
come this time to Windsor.
I hate these suppers
mortally; but I seldom eat anything.
17. Lord-treasurer and Mr. Secretary stay hɩre
till to-morrow; some business keeps them, and I
am sorry for it, for they hinder me a day. Mr.
Lewis and I were going to dine soberly with a little
court friend at one. But lord Harley and lord
Dupplin kept me by force, and said we should dine
at lord-treasurer's, who intended to go at four to
London; I stayed like a fool, and went with the
two young lords to lord-treasurer, who very fairly
turned us all three out of doors. They both were
invited to the duke of Somerset, but he was gone to
a horse-race, and would not come till five: so we
were forced to go to a tavern, and send for wine
from lord-treasurer's, who at last we were told did
not go to town till to-morrow, and at lord-trea-
surer's we supped again; and I desired him to let
me add four shillings to the bill I gave him. We
sat up till two, yet I must write to little MD.
18. They are all gone early this morning; and I
am alone to seek my fortune; but Dr. Arbuthnot
engages me for my dinners; and he yesterday gave
me my choice of place, person, and victuals for to-
day. So I chose to dine with Mrs. Hill, who is one
of the dressers and Mrs. Masham's sister; no com-
pany but us three, and to have a shoulder of mutton,
a small one, which was exactly, only there was too
much victuals besides; and the Dr.'s wife was of
the
company. And to-morrow Mrs. Hill and I are
to dine with the doctor. I have seen a fellow often
about court, whom I thought I knew; I asked who
he was? and they told me it was the gentleman
porter; then I called him to mind; he was Killy's
acquaintance, (I won't say yours.) I think his name
is Lovet, or Lovel, or something like it. I believe
he does not know me, and in my present posture I
shall not be fond of renewing old acquaintance; I
believe I used to see him with the Bradleys; and,
by the way, I have not seen Mrs. Bradley since I
came to England. I left your letter in London like
a fool, and cannot answer it till I go back, which
will not be until Monday next: so this will be above
a fortnight from my last; but I will fetch it up in
my next; so go and walk to the dean's for your
health this fine weather.
19. The queen designs to have cards and dancing
here next week, which makes us think she will stay
here longer than we believed. Mrs. Masham is not
well after her lying-in: I doubt she got some cold:
she is lame in one of her legs with a rheumatic pain.
Dr. Arbuthnot and Mrs. Hill go to-morrow to Ken-
sington to see her, and return the same night. Mrs.
Hill and I dined with the doctor to-day. I rode
out this morning with the doctor to see Cranburn,
a house of lord Ranelagh's, and the duchess of Marl
+2
212
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
borough's lodge, and the park; the finest places
places
they are for nature and plantations that ever I saw;
and the finest riding upon artificial roads, made on
purpose for the queen. Arbuthnot made me draw
up a sham subscription for a book, called a History
of the Maids of Honour since Harry the Eighth,
showing they make the best wives, with a list of all
the Maids of Honour since, &c., to pay a crown in
hand, and the other crown upon the delivery of the
book; and all in the common forms of those things.
We got a gentleman to write it fair, because my
hand is known, and we sent it to the maids of ho-
nour when they came to supper. If they bite at it,
'twill be a very good court jest, and the queen will
certainly have it; we did not tell Mrs. Hill.
20. To-day I was invited to the green-cloth by
colonel Godfrey, who married the duke of Marl-
borough's sister, mother to the duke of Berwick by
king James: I must tell you those things that hap-
pened before you were born: but I made my ex-
cuses, and young Harcourt (lord-keeper's son) and
I dined with my next neighbour Dr. Adams. Mrs.
Masham is better, and will be here in three or four
days. She had need; for the duchess of Somerset
is thought to gain ground daily. We have not
yet sent you over all your bills; and I think we
have altered your money-bill. The duke of Or-
mond is censured here by those in power for very
wrong management in the affair of the mayoralty.
He is governed by fools; and has usually much
more sense than his advisers, but never proceeds by
it. I must know how your health continues after
Wexford. Walk and use exercise, sirrahs both; and
get somebody to play at shuttle-cock with you,
madam Stella, and walk to the dean's and Donny-
brook.
21. Colonel Godfrey sent to me again to-day; so
I dined at the green-cloth, and we had but eleven at
dinner, which is a small number there, the court
being always thin of company till Saturday night.
This new ink and pen make a strange figure;
I
must write larger; yes, I must, or Stella won't be able
to read this.a S. S. S., there's your S s for you,
Stella. The maids of honour are bit, and have all
contributed their crowns, and are teazing others to
subscribe for the book. I will tell lord-keeper and
lord-treasurer to-morrow; and I believe the queen
will have it. After a little walk this cvening I
squandered away the rest of it in sitting at Lewis's
lodging, while he and Dr. Arbuthnot played at
picquet. I have that foolish pleasure, which I be-
lieve nobody has beside me, except old lady Berke-
ley. But I fretted when I came away. I will loiter
so no more, for I have a plaguy deal of business upon
my hands, and very little time to do it.
The pam-
phleteers begin to be very busy against the ministry.
I have begged Mr. Secretary to make examples of
one or two of them; and he assures me he will.
They are very bold and abusive.
22. This being the day the ministry comes to
Windsor, I ate a bit or two at Mr. Lewis's lodgings,
because I must sup with lord-treasurer; and at half
an hour after one I led Mr. Lewis a walk up the
avenue, which is two miles long: we walked in all
about five miles, but I was so tired with his slow
walking that I left him here, and walked two miles
toward London, hoping to meet lord-treasurer, and
return with him, but it grew darkish, and I was
forced to walk back; so I walked nine miles in all,
and lord-treasurer did not come till after eight,
which is very wrong, for there was no moon, and I
often tell him how ill he docs to expose himself so,
but he only makes a jest of it. I supped with him,
• These words in Italics are written enormously large.
and stayed till now, when it is half an hour after
two. He is as merry, and careless, and disengaged,
as a young heir at one-and-twenty. 'Tis late in-
deed.
23. The secretary did not come last night, but at
three this afternoon; I have not seen him yet, but I
verily think they are contriving a peace as fast as
they can, without which it will be impossible to
subsist. The queen was at church to-day, but was
carried in a chair. I and Mr. Lewis dined privately
with Mr. Lowman, clerk of the kitchen. I was to
see lord-keeper this morning, and told him the jest
of the maids of honour, and lord-treasurer had it
last night. That
That rogue Arbuthnot puts it all upon
me. The court was very full to-day; I expect-
ed lord-treasurer would have invited ine to supper,
but he only bowed to me, and we had no discourse
in the drawing-room. 'Tis now seven at night, and
I am at home, and I hope lord-treasurer will not
send for me to supper; if he does not I will reproach
him, and he will pretend to chide me for not coming.
So farewell till I go to bed, for I am going to be
busy. 'Tis now past ten, and I went down to ask
the servants about Mr. Secretary; they tell me the
queen is yet at council, and that she went to supper,
and came out to the council afterward. 'Tis certain
they are managing a peace. I will go to bed, and
there's an end. 'Tis now eleven, and a messenger
is come from lord-treasurer to sup with them, but I
have excused myself, and am glad I am in bed, for
else I should sit up till two, and drink till I was hot.
Now I'll go sleep.
London, 24.-I came to town by six with lord-
treasurer, and have stayed till ten. That of the
queen's going out to sup, and coming in again, is a
lie, as the secretary told me this morning, but I find
the ministry are very busy with Mr. Prior, and I be-
lieve he will go again to France. I am told so much,
that we shall certainly have a peace very soon.
I
had charming weather all last week at Windsor, but
we have had a little rain to-day, and yesterday was
windy. Prior's Journey sells still; they have sold
two thousand, although the town is empty. I found
a letter from Mrs. Fenton here, desiring me, in lady
Giffard's name, to come and pass a week at Sheen,
while she is at Moor-park. I will answer it with a
vengeance; and now you talk of answering, there
is MD's No. 20 yet to be answered: I had put it
up so safe I could hardly find it; but here it is,
faith, and I am afraid I cannot send this till Thurs-
day, for I must see the secretary to-morrow morning,
and be in some other place in the evening.
Let
25. Stella writes like an emperor, and gives such
an account of her journey, never saw the like.
me see; stand away, let us compute: you stayed
four days at Inish-Corthy, two nights at Mrs.
Proby's inother's, and yet was but six days in
journey; for your words are, "We left Wexford
this day se'nnight, and came here last night." I
have heard them say that travellers may lie by
authority. Make up this if you can. How far is
it from Wexford to Dublin? how many miles did
you travel in a day? Let me see-thirty pounds in
two months is nine score pounds a-year; a matter of
nothing in Stella's purse. I dreamed Billy Swift
was alive, and that I told him you writ me word he
was dead, and that you had been at his funeral, and
I admired at your impudence, and was in mighty
haste to run and let you know what lying rogues
you were. Poor lad, he is dead of his mother's
former folly and foudness, and yet now I believe, as
you say, that her grief will soon wear off. O yes,
madam Dingley, mightily tired of the company, no
doubt of it, at Wexford! and your description of it
J
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
213
:
when I saw him, for fear of his reporting it in Ire-
land. And this recommendation must be a secret
too, for fear the duke of Bolton should know it, and
I never read so d-d a let-
think it was too mean.
I
• In
this place, (meaning the exchange in London,)
which is the compendium of old Troynovant, as that
is of the whole busy world, I got such a surfeit that
grew sick of mankind, and resolved for ever after
to bury myself in the shady retreat of -." You
must know that London has been called by some
Troynovant, or New Troy. Will you have any
more? Yes, one little bit for Stella, because she'll
be fond of it. "This wondrous theatre," meaning
and I
London, "was no more to me than a desert,
should less complain of solitude in a Connaught ship-
A little
wreck, or even the great bog of Allen."
scrap for Mrs. Marget (Stella's maid), and then 1
have done. "Their royal fanum, wherein the idol
Pecunia is daily worshipped, seemed to me to be
just like a hive of bees working and labouring under
huge weights of cares." Fanum is a temple, but he
means the Exchange; and Pecunia is money: so
now Mrs. Marget will understand her part. One
more paragraph, and I-Well, come, don't be in
such a rage, you shall have no more. Pray, Stella,
be satisfied; 'tis very pretty: and that I must be
acquainted with such a dog as this! Our peace goes
on fast. Prior was with the secretary two hours
this morning I was there a little after he went
away, and was told it. I believe he will soon be
despatched again to France; and I will put somebody
to write an account of his second journey: I hope
you have seen the other. This letter has taken up
my time with storming at it.
is excellent; clean sheets, but bare walls; I suppose
then you lay upon the walls. Mrs. Walls has got
her tea, but who pays me the money? Come, I
shall never get it, so I make a present of it to stop
some gaps, &c. Where's the thanks of the house? ter in my life: a little would make me send it over
so, that's well; why, it cost four-and-thirty shillings to you.-I must send you a pattern, the first place
English.-You must adjust that with Mrs. Walls; II cast my eyes on, I will not pick and choose.
think that is so many pence more with you.-No,
Leigh and Sterne, I suppose, were not at the water-
side: I fear Sterne's business will not be done; I
I hate him
have not seen him this good while.
for the management of that box, and I was the
greatest fool in nature for trusting to such a young
jackanapes; I will speak to him once more about
it when I see him. Mr. Addison and I met once
more since, and I supped with him. I believe I told
you so somewhere in this letter. The archbishop
chose an admirable messenger in Walls to send
to me, yet I think him fitter for a messenger than
anything. The d-shea has! I did not observe her
looks. Will she rot out of modesty with lady Gif-
fard? I pity poor Jenny [his sister, Mrs. Fenton]
but her husband is a dunce, and with respect to
him she loses little by her deafness. I believe, ma-
dam Stella, in your accounts you mistook one liquor
for another, and it was a hundred and forty quarts
of wine and thirty-two of water.-This is all written
in the morning, before I go to the secretary, as I am
now doing. I have answered your letter a little
shorter than ordinary; but I have a mind it should
go to-day, and I will give you my journal at night
in my next, for I am so afraid of another letter be-
fore this goes: I will never have two together again
unanswered. What care I for Dr. Tisdall and Dr.
Raymond, or how many children they have? I wish
they had a hundred apiece. Lord-treasurer pro-
mises me to answer the bishop's letter to-morrow,
and show it me; and I believe it will confirm all
I said, and mortify those that threw the merit
on the duke of Ormond. For I have made lim
jealous of it; and t'other day, talking of the matter,
he said, "I am your witness you got it for them be-
fore the duke was lord-lieutenant." My humble ser-
vice to Mrs. Walls, Mrs. Stoyte, and Catherine.
Farewell, &c.
What do you do when you see any literal mistakes
in
my letters? how do you set them right? for 1
never read them over to correct them. Farewell
again.
Pray send this note to Mrs. Brent, to get the
money when Parvisol comes to town, or she can
send to him.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIRST.
London, Sept. 25, 1711.
I DINED in the city to-day, and at my return I put
my thirtieth into the post-office; and when I got
home I found for me one of the noblest letters I ever
read; it was from
three sides and a half in
folio, on a large sheet of paper; the two first pages
made up of satire upon London, and crowds and
hurry, stolen from some of his own schoolboy's ex-
ercises: the side and a half remaining is spent in
desiring me to recommend Mrs. South, your com-
missioner's widow, to my lord-treasurer for a pen-
sion. He is the prettiest, discreetest fellow that
ever my eyes beheld, or that ever dipped pen into
ink. I know not what to say to him. A A pox on
him! I have too many such customers on this side
already. I think I will send him word that I never
saw my lord-treasurer in my life: I am sure I in-
dustriously avoided the name of any great person
• Somewhat or other which Stella's mother had consented to.
26. Bernage has been with me these two days;
yesterday I sent for him to let him know that Dr.
Arbuthnot is putting in strongly to have his brother
made a captain over Bernage's head. Arbuthnot's
brother is but an ensign; but the doctor has great
power with the queen: yet he told me he would not
do anything hard to a gentleman who is my friend;
and I have engaged the secretary and his colonel for
him. To-day he told me very melancholy that the
other had written from Windsor (where he went to
solicit) that he has got the company: and Bernage
is full of the spleen. I made the secretary write
yesterday a letter to the colonel in Bernage's behalf.
I hope it will do yet; and I have written to Dr.
Arbuthnot to Windsor, not to insist on doing such a
| hardship. I dined in the city at Pontack's, with
Stratford; it cost me seven shillings: he would have
treated, but I did not let him. I have removed my
money from the bank to another fund. I desired
Parvisol may speak to Hawkshaw to pay in my
money when he can, for I will put it in the funds,
and, in the mean time, borrow so much of Mr. Se-
cretary, who offers to lend it me. Go to the dean's,
sirrahs.
27. Bernage was with me again to-day, and is in
great fear, and so was I; but this afternoon, at
lord-treasurer's, where I dined, my brother, George
Granville, secretary at war, after keeping me a while
in suspense, told me that Dr. Arbuthnot had waved
the business because he would not wrong a friend of
nine; that his brother is to be a lieutenant, and
Bernage is made a captain. I called at his lodging,
and the soldier's coffeehouse, to put him out of pain,
but cannot find him; so I have left word, and shall
see him to-morrow morning, I suppose. Bernage is
now easy; he has ten shillings a-day, beside lawful
cheating. However, he gives a private sum to his
214
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
colonel, but it is very cheap: his colonel loves him
well, but is surprised to see him have so many
friends. So he is now quite off my hands. I left
the company early to-night, at lord-treasurer's; but
the secretary followed me, to desire I would go with
him to W-. Mr. Lewis's man came in before I
could finish that word beginning with a W, which
ought to be Windsor, and brought me a very hand-
me rallying letter from Dr. Arbuthnot, to tell him
he had, in compliance to me, given up his brother's
pretensions in favour of Bernage this very inorning;
that the queen had spoken to Mr. Granville to make
the company easy in the other's having the captain-
ship. Whether they have done it to oblige me or
no, I must own it so. He says he this very morning
begged her majesty to give Mr. Bernage the com-
pany. I am mighty well pleased to have succeeded
so well; but you will think me tedious, although
you like the man, as I think.
The
Windsor, 28. I came here a day sooner than ordi-
nary, at Mr. Secretary's desire, and supped with him
and Prior, and two private ministers from France,
and a French priest. I know not the two ministers'
names, but they are come about the peace.
names the secretary called them. I suppose, were
feigned; they were good rational men. We have
already settled all things with France, and very much
to the honour and advantage of England; and the
queen is in mighty good humour. All this news is
a mighty secret; the people in general know that a
peace is forwarding. The earl of Strafford is to go
soon to Holland, and let them know what we have
been doing; and then there will be the devil and
all to pay; but we'll make them swallow it with
a pox.
The French ministers stayed with us till
one, and the secretary and I sat up talking till two;
so you will own 'tis late, sirrahs, and time for
your
little saucy Presto to go to bed and sleep adazy; and
God bless poor little MD: I hope they are now fast
asleep, and dreaming of Presto.
the peace; but we'll wherret them, I warrant, boys.
Go, go, go to the dean's, and don't mind politics,
young women, they are not good after the waters;
they are stark naught: they strike up into the head.
Go, get two black aces, and fish for a manilio.
October 1. Sir John Walters, an honest drunken
fellow, is now in waiting, and invited me to the
gicen cloth to-day, that he might not be behindhand
with colonel Godfrey, who is a Whig. I was en-
gaged to the mayor's feast with Mr. Masham ; but
waiting to take leave of lord-treasurer, I came too
late, and so returned sneaking to the green cloth,
and did not see my lord-treasurer neither; but was
resolved not to lose two dinners for him. I took
leave to-day of my friend and solicitor, lord Rivers,
|
who is commanded by the queen to set out for
Hanover on Thursday. The secretary does not go
to town till to-morrow; he and I, and two friends.
more, drank a sober bottle of wine here at home,
and parted at twelve; he goes by seven to-morrow
morning, so I shall not see him.
morning, so I shall not see him. I have power over
his cellar in his absence, and make little use of it.
Lord Dartmouth and my friend Lewis stay here this
week; but I can never work out a dinner from
Dartmouth. Masham has promised to provide for
me: I squired his lady out of her chaise to-day, and
must visit her in a day or two. So you have had a
lung fit of the finest weather in the world; but I am
every day in pain that it will go off. I have done
no business to-day: I am very idle.
at
29. Lord-treasurer came to-night, as usual, at
half an hour after eight, as dark as pitch. I am
weary of chiding him; so I commended him for ob-
serving his friend's advice, and coming so early, &c.
I was two hours with lady Oglethorp to-night, and
then supped with lord-treasurer, after dining at the
green cloth: I stayed till two; this is the effect of
Lord-treasurer being here; I must sup with him,
and he keeps cursed hours. Lord-keeper and the
secretary were absent; they cannot sit
; they cannot sit up with him.
This long sitting up makes the periods of my letters
so short. I design to stay here all the next week,
to be at leisure by myself, to finish something of
weight I have upon my hands, and which must soon
be done. I shall then think of returning to Ireland,
if these people will let me; and I know nothing
else they have for me to do. I gave Dr. Arbuthnot
my thanks for his kindness to Bernage whose com-
mission is now signed. Methinks I long to know
something of Stella's health, how it continues after
Wexford waters.
30. The queen was not at chapel to-day, and all
for the better, for we had a dunce to preach: she
has a little of the gout. I dined with my brother
Masham and a moderate company, and would not
go to lord-treasurer's till after supper at eleven.
o'clock, and pretended I had mistaken the hour; so
I ate nothing; and a little after twelve the company
broke up, the keeper and secretary refusing to stay;
so I saved this night's debauch. Prior went away
yesterday with his Frenchmen, and a thousand re-
Some said they knew
ports are raised in this town.
one to be the abbé de Polignac: others swore it was
the abbé du Bois. The Whigs are in a rage about
2. My friend Lewis and I, to avoid over much
eating and great tables, dined with honest Jemmy
Eckershall, clerk of the kitchen, now in waiting;
and I bespoke my dinner: but the cur had your ac-
quaintance Lovet, the gentleman porter, to be our
company. Lovet, toward the end of dinner, after
twenty wrigglings, said he had the honour to see
me formerly at Moor-park, and thought he remem-
bered my face. I said I thought I remembered him,
and was glad to see him, &c., and 1 escaped for that
much, for he was very pert. It has rained all this
day, and I doubt our good weather is gone. I have
been very idle this afternoon, playing at twelvepenny
picquet with Lewis: I won seven shillings, which
is the only money I won this year: I have not
played above four times, and I think always at
Windsor. Cards are very dear: there is a duty
on them of sixpence a pack, which spoils small
gamesters.
3. Mr. Masham sent this morning to desire I
would ride out with him, the weather growing again
very fine. I was very busy, and sent my excuses,
but desired he would provide me a dinner. I dined
with him, his lady, and her sister Mrs. Hill, who
invites us to-morrow to dine with her, and we are
to ride out in the morning. I sat with lady Ogle-
thorp till eight this evening, then was going home
to write; looked about for the woman that keeps
the key of the house: she told me Patrick had it.
I cooled my heels in the cloisters till nine, then
went in to the music meeting, where I had been
often desired to go; but was weary in half an hour
of their fine stuff, and stole out so privately that
everybody saw me; and cooled my heels in the
cloisters again till after ten: then came in Patrick.
I went up, shut the chamber-door, and gave him two
or three swingeing cuffs on the ear, and I have strained
the thumb of my left hand with pulling him, which
I did not feel until he was gone. He was plaguily
afraid and humbled.
4. It was the finest day in the world, and we got
The
out before eleven, a noble caravan of us.
duchess of Shrewsbury in her own chaise with one
Swift, like some others, rather hated than loved musia,
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
horse, and miss Toucnet with her; Mrs. Masham
and Mrs. Scarborow, one of the dressers, in one of
the queen's chaises: miss Forester and miss Scar-
borow, two maids of honour, and Mrs. Hill on
horseback. The duke of Shrewsbury, Mr. Masham,
George Fielding, Arbuthnot, and I, on horseback
too. Mrs. Hill's horse was hired for miss Scarbo-
row, but she took it in civility, her own horse was
galled, and could not be rid, but kicked and winced:
the hired horse was not worth eighteenpence.
I
borrowed coat, toots, and horse, and in short we
had all the difficulties and more than we used to
have in making a party from Trim to Longfield's.ª
My coat was light camlet, faced with red velvet, and
silver buttons. We rode in the great park and the
forest about a dozen miles, aud the duchess and I
had much conversation; we got home by two, and
Mr. Masham, his lady, Arbuthnot, and I, dined with
Mrs. Hill. Arbuthnot made us all melancholy, by
some symptoms of bloody urine: he expects a cruel
fit of the stone in twelve hours; he says he is never
mistaken, and he appears like a man that is to be
racked to-morrow. I cannot but hope it will not
be so bad; he is a perfectly honest man, and one I
have much obligation to. It rained a little this af-
ternoon, and grew fair again. Lady Oglethorp sent
to speak to me, and it was to let me know that lady
Rochester desires she and I may be better acquainted.
'Tis a little too late; for I am not now in love with
lady Rochester: they shame me out of her, because
she is old. Arbuthnot says he hopes my strained
thumb is not the gout; for he has often found
people so mistaken. I do not remember the par-
ticular thing that gave it me, only I had it just after
beating Patrick, and now it is better; so I believe
he is mistaken.
5. The duchess of Shrewsbury sent to invite me to
dinner; but I was abroad last night when her ser-
vant came, and this morning I sent my excuses, be-
cause I was engaged, which I was sorry for. Mrs.
Forester taxed me yesterday about the History of
the Maids of Honour; but I told her fairly it was no
jest of mine, for I found they did not relish it alto-
gether well; and I have enough already of a quarrel
with that brute sir John Walters, who has been rail-
ing at me in all companies ever since I dined with
him, that I abused the queen's meat and drink, and
said nothing at the table was good, and all a d—d lie ;
for after dinner, commending the wine, I said I
thought it was something small. You would wonder
how all my friends laugh at this quarrel. It will be
such a jest for the keeper, treasurer, and secretary.
-I dined with honest colonel Godfrey, took a good
walk of an hour on the terrace, and then came up
to study; but it grows bloody cold, and I have no
waistcoat here.
6. I never dined with the chaplains till to-day;
but my friend Gastrel and the dean of Rochester
had often invited me, and I happened to be disen-
gaged it is the worst provided table at court.
We
ate on pewter: every chaplain, when he is made a
dean, gives a piece of plate, and so they have got a
little, some of it very old. One who was made dean
of Peterborow (a small deanery) said he would
give no plate; he was only dean of Pewterborow.
The news of Mr. Hill's miscarriage in his expedition
came to-day, and I went to visit Mrs. Masham and
Mrs. Hill, his two sisters, to condole with them. I
advised them by all means to go to the music-meet-
ing to night, to show they were not cast down, &c.,
and they thought my advice was right, and went.
I doubt Mr. Hill and his admiral made wrong steps:
* Mr. Longfield lived at Killibride, about four miles from
Trim
215
however, we lay it au to a storm, &c. I sat with the
secretary at supper; then we both went to lorů-
treasurer's supper and sat till twelve. The secretary
is much mortified about Hill; because this expedi
tion was of his contriving, and he counted much
upon it; but lord-treasurer was just as merry as
usual, and old laughing at sir John Walters and me
falling out. I said, nothing grieved me, but that
they would take example, and perhaps presume upon
it, and get out of my government; but that I thought
I was not obliged to govern bears, though I governed
men. They promise to be as obedient as ever, and
so we laughed;-and so I go to bed; for it is colder
still, and you have a fire now, and are at cards at home.
7. Lord Harley and I dined privately to-day with
Mrs. Masham and Mrs. Hill and my brother Ma-
sham. I saw lord Halifax at court, and we joined
and talked; and the duchess of Shrewsbury came
I
up and reproached me for not dining with her.
said that was not so soon done; for I expected more
advances from ladies, especially duchesses: she pro-
mised to comply with any demands I please; and I
agreed to dine with her to-morrow, if I did not go
to London too soon, as I believe I shall before din-
ner. Lady Oglethorp brought me and the duchess of
Hamilton together to-day in the drawing-room, and
I have given her some encouragement, but not much.
Everybody has been teasing Walters. He told lord-
treasurer that he took his company from him that were
to dine with him: my lord said, I will send you Dr.
Swift: lord-keeper bid him take care what he did;
for, said he, Dr. Swift is not only all our favourite,
but our governor. The old company supped with
lord-treasurer, and got away by twelve.
London, 8. I believe I shall go no more to Wind-
sor, for we expect the queen will come in ten days
to Hampton-court. It was frost last night, and cruel
cold to-day. I could not dine with the duchess, for
I left Windsor half an hour after one with lord-
treasurer, and we called at Kensington, where Mrs.
Masham was got to see her children for two days. I
dined, or rather supped, with lord-treasurer, and
stayed till after ten. Tisdall and his family are gone
from hence, upon some wrangle with the family.
Yesterday I had two letters brought me to Mr.
Masham's; one from Ford, and t'other from our
little MD, No. 21. I would not tell you till to-day,
because I would not. I won't answer it till the next,
because I have slipped two days by being at Wind-
sor, which I must recover here. Well, sirrahs, I must
go to sleep. The roads were as dry as at midsummer
to-day. This letter shall go to-morrow.
9. Morning. It rains hard this morning. I sup-
pose our fair weather is now at an end. I think I'll
put on my waistcoat to-day: shall I? Well, I will
then, to please MD. I think of dining at home to-
day upon a chop and a pot. The town continues
yet very thin. Lord Strafford is gone to Holland,
to tell them what we have done here toward a peace.
We shall soon hear what the Dutch say, and how
they take it. My humble service to Mrs. Walls, Mrs.
Stoyte, and Catherine. - Morrow, dearest sirrahs,
and farewell; and God Almighty bless MD, poor
little dear MD, for so I mean, and Presto too. I'll
write to you again to-night, that is, I'll begin my next
letter. Farewell, &c.
This little bit belongs to MD; we must always
write on the margin: you are saucy rogues.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SECOND.
London, Oct. 9, 1711.
I was forced to lie down at twelve to-day, and mend
my night's sleep: I slept till after two, and then sent
216
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
I
for a bit of mutton and pot of ale from the next
cook's shop, and had no stomach. I went out at
four, and called to see Biddy Floyd, which I had not
done these three months: she is something marked,
but has recovered her complexion quite, and looks
very well.
Then I sat the evening with Mrs. Van-
homrigh, and drank coffee, and ate an egg. I like-
wise took a new lodging to-day, not liking a ground-
floor, nor the ill smell, and other circumstances.
lodge, or shall lodge, by Leicester-fields, and pay ten
shillings a week; that won't hold out long, faith. I
shall lie here but one night more. It rained terribly
till one o'clock to-day. I lie, for I shall lie here two
nights, till Thursday, and then remove. Did I tell
you that my friend Mrs. Barton has a brother drowned,
that went on the expedition with Jack Hill? He
was a lieutenant-colonel, and a coxcomb; and she
keeps her chamber in form, and the servants say she
receives no messages.-Answer MD's letter, Presto,
d'ye hear? No, says Presto, I won't yet, I'm busy;
you're a saucy rogue. Who talks?
I
10. It cost me two shillings in coach-hire to dine
in the city with a printer. I have sent, and caused
to be sent, three pamphlets out in a fortnight. I
will ply the rogues warm; and whenever anything
of theirs makes a noise it shall have an answer.
have instructed an under spur-leather to write so
that it is taken for mine. A rogue that writes a
newspaper, called the Protestant Post-boy, has re-
flected on me in one of his papers; but the secretary
has taken him up, and he shall have a squeeze ex-
traordinary. He says that an ambitious tantivy, miss-
ing of his towering hopes of preferment in Ireland,
is come over to vent his spleen on the late ministry,
&c. I'll tantivy him with a vengeance. I sat the
evening at home, and am very busy, and can hardly
find time to write, unless it were to MD. I am in
furious haste.
11. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer. Thursdays
are now his days when his choice company comes,
but we are too much multiplied. George Granville
sent his excuses upon being ill; I hear he appre-
I hear he appre.
hends the apoplexy, which would grieve me much.
Lord-treasurer calls Prior nothing but Monsieur
Baudrier, which was the feigned name of the French-
man that writ his Journey to Paris. They pretend
to suspect me, so I talk freely of it, and put them
out of their play. Lord-treasurer calls me now
Dr. Martin, because martina is a sort of swallow,
and so is a swift. When he and I came last Mon-
'day from Windsor, we were reading all the signs on
the road. Hs is a pure trifler; tell the bishop of
Clogher so. I made him make two lines in verse
for the Bell and Dragon, and they were rare bad
I suppose Dilly is with you by this time:
what could his reason be of leaving Loudon, and not
owning it? 'Twas plaguy silly. I believe his natu-
ral inconstancy made him weary. I think he is the
king of inconstancy. I stayed with lord-treasurer
till ten; we had five lords and three commoners.
Go to ombre, sirrahs.
ones.
12. Mrs. Vanhomrigh has changed her lodging as
well as I. She found she had got with a bawd, and
removed. I dined with her to-day; for though she
boards, her landlady does not dine with her. I am
grown a mighty lover of herrings; but they are
much smaller here than with you. In the afternoon
I visited an old major-general, and eat six oysters;
then sat an hour with Mrs. Colledge, the joiner's
daughter that was hanged; it was the joiner was
hanged, and not his daughter; with Thompson's
wife, a magistrate. There was the famous Mrs.
From this pleasantry of lord Oxford the appellative Mar-
tinus Scribierus took its rise.
|
I
Floyd of Chester, who, I think, is the handsomest
woman (except MD) that ever I saw. She told me
that twenty people had sent her the verses upon
Biddy, as meant to her: and, indeed, in point of
handsomeness, she deserves them much better.
will not go to Windsor to-morrow, and so I told the
secretary to-day. I hate the thoughts of Saturday
and Sunday suppers with lord-treasurer. Jack Hill
is come home from his unfortunate expedition, and
is, I think, now at Windsor: I have not yet seen
him. He is privately blamed by his own friends for
want of conduct. He called a council of war, and
therein it was determined to come back. But they
say a general should not do that, because the officers
will always give their opinion for returning, since
the blame will not lie upon them, but the general.
I
pity him heartily. Bernage received his commis-
sion to-day.
13. I dined to-day with colonel Crowe, late go-
vernor of Barbadoes; he is a great acquaintance of
your friend Sterne, to whom I trusted the box. Lord-
treasurer has refused Sterne's business, and I doubt
he is a rake; Jemmy Leigh stays for him, and no-
body knows where to find him. I am so busy now
I have hardly time to spare to write to our little MD;
but in a fortnight I hope it will be over. I am going
now to be busy, &c.
14. I was going to dine with Dr. Cockburn, but
sir Andrew Fountaine met me, and carried me to
Mrs. Van's, where I drank the last bottle of Ray-
mond's wine, admirable good, better than any I get
among the ministry. I must pick up time to answer
this letter of MD's; I'll do it in a day or two for
certain.-
certain.I am glad I am not at Windsor, for it is
very cold, and I won't have a fire till November. I
am contriving how to stop up my grate with bricks.
Patrick was drunk last night; but did not come to
me, else I should have given him t'other cuff. I
sat this evening with Mrs. Barton; it is the first day
of her seeing company; but I made her merry enough,
and we were three hours disputing upon Whig and
Tory.
Tory. She grieved for her brother only for form,
and he was a sad dog. Is Stella well enough to go to
church, pray? no numbings left? no darkness in
your eyes? do you walk and exercise? Your exer-
cise is ombre. People are coming up to town:
the queen will be at Hampton-court in a week.
Lady Betty Germain, I hear, is come; and lord
Pembroke is coming: his new wife is as big with
child as she can tumble.
15. I sat at home till four this afternoon to-day
writing, and ate a roll and butter; then visited Will.
Congreve an hour or two, and supped with lord-trea-
surer, who came from Windsor to-day, and brought
Prior with him. The queen has thanked Prior
for his good service in France, and promised to make
him a commissioner of the customs. Several of that
commission are to be out: among the rest, my friend
sir Matthew Dudley. I can do nothing for him, be
is so hated by the ministry. Lord-treasurer kept me
till twelve, so I need not tell you it is now late.
16. 1 dined to-day with Mr. Secretary at Dr.
Cotesworth's, where he now lodges till his house be
got ready in Golden-square. One Boyer, a French
dog, has abused me in a pamphlet, and I have got
him up in a messenger's hands: the secretary pro-
mises me to swinge him. Lord-treasurer told me
last night that he had the honour to be abused with
me in a pamphlet. I must make that rogue an ex-
ample, for warning to others. I was to see Jack
Hill this morning, who made that unfortunate expe-
dition; and there is still more misfortune; for that
ship, which was admiral of his fleet, is blown up in
the Thames, by an accident and carelessness of some
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
217
rogue, who was going, as they think, to steal some
We don't
gunpowder: five hundred men are lost.
yet know the particulars. I am got home by seven,
and am going to be busy, and you are going to play
and supper; you live ten times happier than I; but
I should live ten times happier than you if I were
with MD. I saw Jemmy Leigh to-day in the street,
who tells me that Sterne has not lain above once these
three weeks in his lodgings, and he doubts he takes
ill courses; he stays only till he can find Sterne to
go along with him, and he cannot hear of him. I
begged him to inquire about the box when he comes
to Chester, which he promises.
17. The secretary and I dined to-day with briga-
dier Britton, a great friend of his. The lady of the
house is very gallant, about thirty-five; she is said
to have a great deal of wit; but I see nothing among
any of them that equals MD by a bar's length, as
hope saved. My lord-treasurer is much out of order;
he has a sore throat, and the gravel, and a pain in
his breast where the wound was pray God preserve
him. The queen comes to Hampton-court on Tues-
day next; people are coming fast to town, and I must
answer MD's letter, which I can hardly find time to
do, though I am at home the greatest part of the day.
Lady Betty Germain and 1 were disputing Whig
and Tory to death this morning. She is grown very
fat, and looks mighty well. Biddy Floyd was there,
and she is, I think, very much spoiled with the
small-pox.
18. Lord-treasurer is still out of order, and that
breaks our method of dining there to-day. He is
often subject to a sore throat, and some time or other
it will kill him, unless he takes more care than he is
apt to do. It was said about the town that poor lord
Peterborow was dead at Frankfort; but he is some-
thing better, and the queen is sending him to Italy,
where I hope the warm climate will recover him:
he has abundance of excellent qualities, and we love
one another mightily. I was this afternoon in the
city, ate a bit of meat, and settled some things with
a printer. I will answer your letter on Saturday, if
possible, and then send away this; so to fetch up the
odd days I lost at Windsor, and keep constant to my
fortnight. Ombre-time is now coming on, and we
shall have nothing but Manley, and Walls, and
Stoytes, and the dean. Have you got no new ac-
quaintance? Poor girls;
Poor girls; nobody knows MD's good
qualities. 'Tis very cold; but I will not have a fire
till November, that's pozz. Well, but coming home
to-night I found on my table a letter from MD;
faith I was angry, that is with myself; and I was
afraid too to see MD's hand so soon, for fear of
something, I don't know what: at last I opened it,
and it was over well, and a bill for the two hundred
guincas. However, 'tis a sad thing that this letter
is not gone, nor your twenty-first answered yet.
19. I was invited to-day to dine with Mrs. Vau,
with some company who did not come; but I ate
nothing but herrings: you must know I hardly ever
eat of above one thing, and that the plainest ordi-
nary meat at table; I love it best, and believe it
wholesomest. You love rarities; yes you do; I
wish you had all that I ever see where I go. I was
coming home early and met the secretary in his
chair, who persuaded me to go with him to Britton's;
for he said he had been all day at business, and had
eaten nothing. So I went, and the time passed so
that we stayed till two, so you may believe 'tis late
enough.
20. This day has gone all wrong, by sitting up so
late last night. Lord-treasurer is not yet well, and
can't go to Windsor. I dined with sir Matthew
Dudley, and took occasion to hint to him that he
would lose his employment, for which I am very
sorry. Lord Pembroke and his family are all come
to town. I was kept so long at a friend's this
evening that I cannot send this to-night. When 1
knocked at my lodgings, a fellow asked me where
lodged Dr. Swift? I told him I was the person :
he gave me a letter he brought from the secretary's
office, and I gave him a shilling: when I came up I
saw Dingley's hand: faith I was afraid, I do not
know what. At last it was a formal letter from
Dingley about her exchequer business. Well, I'll
do it on Monday, and settle it with Tooke. And
now boys, for your letter, I mean the first, No. 21.
Let's see; come out, little letter. I never had the
letter from the bishop that Raymond mentions; but
I have written to Ned Southwell, to desire the duke
of Ormond to speak to his reverence, that he may
leave off his impertinence. What a pox can they
think I am doing for the archbishop here? You have
a pretty notion of me in Ireland, to make me an
agent for the archbishop of Dublin. Why do you
think I value your people's ingratitude about my
part in serving them? I remit thein their first-fruits
of ingratitude as freely as I got the other remitted
to them. This lord-treasurer defers writing his let-
ter to them, or else they would be plaguily con-
founded by this time. For he designs to give the
merit of it wholly to the queen and me, and to let
them know it was done before the duke of Ormond
was lord-lieutenant. You visit, you dine abroad,
you see friends; you pilgarlic; you walk from Fin-
glass, you a cat's foot. O Lord-lady Gore bung
her child by the waist; what is that waist? I don't
understand the word: he must hang on till you
explain or spell it. I don't believe he was pretty,
that's a liiii. Pish! burn your first-fruits; again at
it! Stella has made twenty false spellings in her
writing; I'll send them to you all back again on the
other side of this letter, to mend them; I won't miss
Why; I think there were seventeen bishops'
names to the letter lord Oxford received. I will
send you some pamphlets by Leigh; put me in mind
of it on Monday, for I shall go then to the printer;
yes, and the Miscellany. I am mightily obliged to
Walls, but I don't deserve it by any usage of him
here, having seen him but twice, and once en passant.
Mrs. Manley forsworn ombre! What;
What; and no blaz-
ing star appear? no monsters born? no whale thrown
up? have you not found out some evasion for her?
She had no such regard to oaths in her younger
days. I got the books for nothing, madam Dingley ;
but the wine I got not; it was but a promise. Yes,
my head is pretty well in the main, only now and
then a little threatening or so. You talk of my re-
conciling some great folks. I tell you what. The
secretary told me last night that he had found the
reason why the queen was cold to him for some
months past; that a friend had told it him yesterday;
and it was that they suspected he was at the bottom
with the duke of Marlborough. Then he said he
had reflected upon all I had spoken to him long
ago; but he thought it had been only my suspicion
and my zeal and kindness for him. I said I had
reason to take that very ill, to imagine I knew so
little of the world as to talk at a venture to a great
minister; that I had gone between him and lord-
treasurer often, and told each of them what I had
said to the other, and that I had informed him so
before he said all that you may imagine to excuse
himself and approve my conduct. I told him I
knew all along that this proceeding of mine was the
surest way to send me back to my willows in Ire-
land, but that I regarded it not, provided I could
do the kingdom service in keeping them well toge
one.
218
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
ther. I minded him how often I had told lord-
treasurer, lord-keeper, and him together, that all
things depended on their union, and that my comfort
was to see them love one another; and I had told
them all singly that I had not said this by chance,
&c. He was in a rage to be thus suspected; swears
he will be upon a better foot, or none at all; and I
do not see how they can well want him in this
juncture. I hope to find a way of settling this mat-
ter. I act an honest part that will bring me nei-
ther profit nor praise. MD must think the better of
me for it: nobody else shall know of it. Here's
politics enough for once; but madam D. D. gave
me occasion for it. I think I told you I have got
into lodgings that don't smell ill.-O Lord! the
spectacles: well, I'll do that on Monday too; al-
though it goes against me to be employed for folks
that neither you nor I care a groat for. Is the eight
pounds from Hawkshaw included in the thirty-nine
pounds five shillings and twopence? How do I
know by this how my account stands?
write five or six lines to cast it up? Mine is forty-
four pounds per annum, and eight pounds from
Hawkshaw makes fifty-two pounds. Pray set it
pounds. Pray set it
right. and let me know: you had best.
And so
now I have answered No. 21, and 'tis late, and I
will answer No. 22 in my next: this cannot go to-
night, but shall on Tuesday: and so go to your play,
and lose your money, with your two eggs a penny;
silly jade you witty very pretty.
Can't you
21. Mrs. Van would have me dine with her again
to-day, and so I did, though lady Mountjoy has sent
two or three times to have me see and dine with her,
and she is a little body I love very well. My head
has ached a little in the evenings these three or four
days, but it is not of the giddy sort, so I do not much
value it. I was to see lord Harley to-day, but lord-
treasurer took physic and I could not see him. He
has voided much gravel, and is better, but not well;
he talks of going on Tuesday to see the queen at
Hampton Court; I wish he may be able. I never
saw so fine a summer-day as this was: how is it
with you, pray and can't you remember, naughty
packs? I han't seen lord Pembroke yet. He will
be
sorry to miss Dilly: I wonder you say nothing of
Dilly's being got to Ireland; if he be not there soon,
I shall have some certain odd thoughts: guess them
if you can.
22. I dined in the city to-day with Dr. Freind,
at one of my printers': I inquired for Leigh, but
could not find him: I have forgot what sort of apron
you want. I must rout among your letters, a needle
in a bottle of hay. I gave Sterne directions, but
where to find him Lord knows. I have bespoken
the spectacles; got a set of Examiners, and five
pamphlets, which I have either written or contributed
to, except the best, which is the vindication of the
duke of Marlborough, and is entirely of the author
of the Atalantis. I have settled Dingley's affair
with Tooke, who has undertaken it, and understands
it. I have bespoken a Miscellany, what would you
have me do more? It cost me a shilling coming
home: it rains terribly, and did so in the morning.
Lord-treasurer has had an ill day, in much pain.
He writes and does business in his chamber now he
is ill the man is bewitched; he desires to see me,
and I'll maul him, but he will not value it a rush.
I am half weary of them all. I often burst out into
these thoughts, and will certainly steal away as soon
as I decently can. I have many friends and many
enemies; and the last are more constant in their
nature. I have no shuddering at all to think of
retiring to my old circumstances, if you can be easy;
but I will always live in Ireland as I did the last
time; I will not hunt for dinners there: nor con-
verse with more than a very few.
23. Morning. This goes to-day, and shall be
sealed by and by. Lord-treasurer takes physic again
to-day; I believe I shall dine with lord Dupplin.
Mr. Tooke brought me a letter directed for me at
Morphew's, the bookseller. I suppose, by the
postage, it came from Ireland; it is a woman's hand,
and seems false spelt on purpose; it is in such sort
of verse as Harris's petition: rallies me for writing
merry things, and not upon divinity; and is like the
subject of the archbishop's last letter, as I told you.
Can you guess whom it came from! it is not ill-
written; pray find it out; there is a Latin verse at
the end of it all rightly spelt; yet the English, as
I think, affectedly wrong in many places. My
plaguing time is coming. A young fellow brought me
a letter from judge Coote, with recommendation to
be lieutenant of a man-of-war. He is the son of one
Echlin, who was minister of Belfast before Tisdall,
and I have got some other new customers; but I
shall trouble my friends as little as possible. Saucy
Stella used to jeer me for meddling with other folks'
affairs; but now I am punished for it.-Patrick has
brought the candle, and I have no more room. Fare-
well, &c. &c.
Here is a full and true account of Stella's new
Plaguely,
Dineing,
Straingers,
Chais,
Waist,
Houer,
Immagin,
A bout,
Intellegence,
Aboundance,
Merrit,
Secreet,
Phamphlets,
Bussiness,
spelling.
Plaguily.
Dining.
Strangers.
Chase.b
Wast.
Hour.
Imagine.
About.
Intelligence.
Abundance.
Merit.
Secret.
Pamphlets.
Business.
Tell me truly, sirrah, how many of these are mistakes
of the pen, and how many are you to answer for as
real ill-spelling? There are but fourteen: I said
twenty by guess. You must not be angry, for I will
have you spell right, let the world go how it will.
Though, after all, there is but a mistake of one letter
in any of these words. I allow you henceforth but
six false spellings in every letter you send me.
LETTER THE THIRTY-THIRD.
London, Oct. 23, 1711.
I DINED with lord Dupplin as I told you I would,
and put my 32nd into the post-office my own self;
and I believe there has not been one moment since
we parted wherein a letter was not upon the road
going or coming to or from PMD [Presto and MD.]
If the queen knew it she would give us a pension;
for it is we bring good luck to their post-boys and
their packets; else they would break their necks
But an old saying and a true one :-
and sink.
Be it snow, or storm, or hail,
PMD's letters never fail:
Cross winds may sometimes make them tarry,
But PMD's letters can't miscarry.
Terrible rain to-day, but it cleared up at night
enough to save my twelvepence coming home. Lord-
treasurer is much better this evening. I hate to
have him ill, he is so confoundedly careless. I won't
answer your letter yet, so be satisfied.
• This column of words, as they are orrected, is in Stella's
hand.
5 Falsely speł
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
219
24. I called at lord-treasurer's to-day at noon; he
was eating some broth in his bedchamber, undressed,
with a thousand papers about him. He has a little
fever upon him, and his eye terribly bloodshot; yet
he dressed himself and went out to the treasury.
He told me he had a letter from a lady with a com-
plaint against me; it was from Mrs. Cutts, a sister of
lord Cutts, who writ to him that I had abused her
brother: you remember the "Salamander;" it is
printed in the Miscellany. I told my lord that I
would never regard complaints, and that I expected,
whenever he received any against me, he would im-
mediately put them into the fire and forget them,
else I should have no quiet. I had a little turn in
my head this morning; which, though it did not
last above a moment, yet, being of the true sort, has
made me as weak as a dog all this day. 'Tis the
first I have had this half-year. I shall take my pills
if I hear of it again. I dined at lady Mountjoy's
with Harry Coote, and I went to see lord Pembroke
upon his coming to town.-The Whig party are
furious against a peace, and every day some ballad
comes out reflecting on the ministry on that account.
The secretary St. John has seized on a dozen book-
sellers and publishers into his messengers' hands.
Some of the foreign ministers have published the
preliminaries agreed on here between France and
England; and people rail at them as insufficient to
treat a peace upon ; but the secret is, that the French
have agreed to articles much more important, which
our ministers have not communicated, and the peo-
ple, who think they know all, are discontented that
they know no more. This was an inconvenience I
foretold to the secretary; but we could contrive no
way to fence against it. So there's politics for you.
25. The queen is at Hampton-court: she went
on Tuesday, in that terrible rain. I dined with
Lewis at his lodgings, to despatch some business we
had. I sent this morning and evening to lord-trea-
surer, and he is much worse by going out; I am in
pain about evening. He has sent for Dr. Ratcliffe;
pray God preserve him. The chancellor of the ex-
chequer showed me to-day a ballad in manuscript
against lord-treasurer and his South Sea project; it
is very sharply written; if it be not printed I will
send it you. If it be, it shall go in your packet of
pamphlets.-I found out your letter about directions
for the apron, and have ordered to be bought a cheap
green silk work apron; I have it by heart.
this evening with Mrs. Barton, who is my near
neighbour. It was a delicious day, and I got my
walk, and was thinking whether MD was walking
too just at that time that Presto was.-This paper
does not cost me a farthing; I have it from the
secretary's office. I long till to-morrow to know
how my lord-treasurer sleeps this night, and to hear
he mends: we are all undone without him; so pray
for him, sirrahs, and don't stay too late at the
dean's.
:
I sat
26. I dined with Mrs. Van; for the weather is
so bad. and I am so busy that I cannot dine with
great folks and besides, I dare eat but little, to
keep my head in order, which is better. Lord-
treasurer is very ill, but I hope in no danger. We
have no quiet with the Whigs, they are so violent
against a peace; but I'll cool them, with a ven-
geance, very soon. I have not heard from the bi-
shop of Clogher, whether he has got his statues.
writ to him six weeks ago; he is so busy with his
parliament. I won't answer your letter yet, say
what you will, saucy girls.
I
27. I forgot to go about some business this morn-
ng, which cost me double the time; and I was
forced to be at the secretary's office till four, and lose
|
my dinner; so I went to Mrs. Van's, and made
them get me three herrings, which I am very fond
of, and they are a light victuals: besides, I was to
have supped at lady Ashburnham's; but the drab
did not call for us in her coach, as she promised, but
It has been
sent for us, and so I sent my excuses.
a terrible rainy day, but so flattering in the morning
that I would needs go out in my new hat. I met
Leigh and Sterne as I was going into the park.
Leigh says he will go to Ireland in ten days, if he
can get Sterne to go with him; so I will send him
the things for MD, and I have desired him to in-
I hate that Sterne for his
quire about the box.
carelessness about it; but it was my fault.
29. I was all this terrible rainy day with my friend
Lewis upon business of importance; and I dined
with him, and came home about seven, and thought
I would amuse myself a little, after the pains I had
taken. I saw a volume of Congreve's plays in my
room, that Patrick had taken to read; and I looked
into it, and in mere loitering read in it till twelve,
like an owl and a fool: if ever I do so again: never
saw the like. Count Gallas, the emperor's envoy,
you will hear, is in disgrace with us: the queen has
ordered her ministers to have no more commerce
with him; the reason is, the fool writ a rude letter
to lord Dartmouth, secretary of state, complaining
of our proceedings about a peace; and he is always
in close confidence with lord Wharton, and Sunder-
land, and others of the late ministry. I believe you
begin to think there will be no peace; the Whigs
here are sure it cannot be, and stocks are fallen
again. But I am confident there will, unless France
plays us tricks; and you may venture a wager with
any of your Whig acquaintance that we shall not
have another campaign. You will get more by it
than by ombre, sirrah.-I let slip telling you yes-
terday's journal, which I thought to have done
this morning, but blundered. I dined yesterday at
Harry Coote's, with lord Hatton, Mr. Finch, a son
of lord Nottingham, and sir Andrew Fountaine.
left them soon; but hear they stayed till two in the
morning, and were all drunk; and so good night
for last night, and good night for to-night. You
blundering goosecap, an't you ashamed to blunder
to young ladies? I shall have a fire in three or four
days now,-oh, ho.
I
39. I was to-day in the city concerting some
things with a printer, and am to be to-morrow all
day busy with Mr. Secretary about the same [Con-
duct of the Allies]. I won't tell you now; but the
ministers reckon it will do abundance of good, and
open the eyes of the nation, who are half bewitched
against a peace. Few of this generation can re-
member anything but war and taxes, and they think
it is as it should be; whereas 'tis certain we are the
most undone people in Europe, as I am afraid I
shall make appear, beyond all contradiction. But
I forgot; I won't tell you what I will do, nor what
I will not do so let me alone, and go to Stoyte,
and give Goody Stoyte and Catherine my humble
service; I love Goody Stoyte better than Goody
Walls. Who'll pay me for this green apron? I will
have the money; it cost ten shillings and sixpence.
I think it plaguy dear for a cheap thing; but they
said that English silk would cockle, and I know not
what. You have the making into the bargain. 'Tis
right Italian: I have sent it and the pamphlets to
Leigh, and will send the Miscellanies and spectacles
in a day or two. I would send more; but faith I
am plaguy poor at present.
31. The devil's in this secretary; when I went
this morning he had people with him; but, says he,
we are to dine with Prior to-day, and then will do
220
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
all our business in the afternoon at two, Prior
sends word he is otherwise engaged; then the secre-
tary and I go and dine with brigadier Britton, sit
till eight, grow merry, no business done; he is in
haste to see lady Jersey; we part, and appoint no
time to meet again.
This is the fault of all the
present ministers, teasing me to death for my assist-
ance, laying the whole weight of their affairs upon
it, yet slipping opportunities. Lord-treasurer mends
every day, though slowly: I hope he will take care
of himself. Pray, will you send to Parvisol to send
me a bill of twenty pounds as soon as he can, for I
want money. I must have money; I will have mo-
ney, sirrahs.
November 1. I went to-day into the city to settle
some business with Stratford, and to dine with him;
but he was engaged, and I was so angry I would
not dine with any other merchant, but went to my
printer, and ate a bit, and did business of mischief
with him, and I shall have the spectacles and Mis-
cellany to-morrow, and leave them with Leigh. A
fine day always makes me go into the city, if I can
spare time, because it is exercise; and that does me
more good than anything. I have heard nothing
since of my head, but a little, I don't know how,
sometimes: but I am very temperate, especially now
the treasurer is ill, and the ministers often at Hamp-
ton-court, and the secretary not yet fixed in his
house, and I hate dining with many of my old ac-
quaintance. Here has been a fellow discovered
going out of the East india-house with sixteen thou-
sand pounds in money and bills; he would have
escaped if he had not been so uneasy with thirst
that he stole out before his time, and was caught.
But what is that to MD? I wish we had the money,
provided the East India Company was never the
worse; you know we must not covet, &c. Our
weather for this fortnight past is chequered, a fair
and a rainy day; this was very fine, and I have
walked four miles; wish MD would do so, lazy
sluttikins.
|
|
knee and foot, but is easier to-day.-And so I went
to visit Prior about some business, and so he was
not within, and so sir Andrew Fountaine made me
dine to-day again with Mrs. Van, and I came home
soon, remembering this must go to-night, and that
I had a letter of MD's to answer. O Lord, where
is it let me see; so, so, here it is. You grudge
writing so soon. Pox on that bill; the woman
would have me manage that money for her. I do
not know what to do with it now I have it ; I am
like the unprofitable steward in the gospel: I laid
it up in a napkin; there thou hast what is thine
own, &c. Well, well, I know of your new mayor.
(I'll tell you a pun; a fishmonger owed a man two
crowns; so he sent him a piece of bad ling aud a
tench, and then said he was paid: how is that now?
find it out; for I won't tell it you: which of you
finds it out?) Well, but, as I was saying, what
care I for your mayor! I fancy Ford may tell
Forbes right about my returning to Ireland before
Christmas, or soon after. I'm sorry you did not go
on with your story about "Pray God you be John;"
I never heard it in my life, and wonder what it can
be.-Ah, Stella, faith you leaned upon your Bible
to think what to say when you writ that. Yes,
that story of the secretary's making me an example
is true; "never heard it before;" why, how could
you hear it? is it possible to tell you the hundredth
part of what passes in our companies here! the se-
cretary is as easy with me as Mr. Addison was. I
have often thought what a splutter sir William Tem-
ple makes about being made secretary of state ;
think Mr. St. John the greatest young man I ever
knew; wit, capacity, beauty, quickness of appre-
heusion, good learning, and an excellent taste; the
best orator in the house of commons, admirable
conversation, good nature, and good manners; ge-
nerous, and a despiser of money. His only fault is
talking to his friends in a way of complaint of too
great a load of business, which looks a little like
affectation; and he endeavours too much to mix the
fine gentleman and man of pleasure with the mau
of business. What truth and sincerity he may have
I know not: he is now but thirty-two, and has
been secretary above a year. Is not all this extra-
ordinary? how he stands with the queen and lord-
treasurer I have told you before. This is his cha-
racter; and 1 believe you will be diverted by
knowing it. I writ to the archbishop of Dublin,
bishop of Cloyne and of Clogher together, five weeks
ago from Windsor: I hope they had my letters;
The Spectators are likewise print-pray know if Clogher had his.-Fig for your physi-
ing in a larger and smaller volume, so I believe they cian and his advice, madam Dingley; if I grow
are going to leave them off, and indeed people grow worse, I will; otherwise I will trust to temperance
weary of them, though they are often prettily writ- and exercise: your fall of the leaf; what care I
ten. We have had no news for me to send you now when the leaves fall? I am sorry to see them fall
toward the end of my letter. The queen has the with all my heart; but why should I take physic
gout a little; I hoped the lord-treasurer would have because leaves fall off from trees? that won't hinder
had it too, but Radcliffe told me yesterday it was the them from falling. If a man falls from a horse,
rheumatism in his knee and foot; however, he must I take physic for that?—This arguing makes
mends, and I hope will be abroad in a short time. you mad; but it is true night reason, not to be dis-
I am told they design giving away several employ-proved.—I am glad at heart to hear poor Stella is
ments before the parliament sits, which will be the
13th instant. I either do not like or not understand
this policy; and if lord-treasurer does not mend
soon, they must give them just before the sessions.
But he is the greatest procrastinator in the world.
2. It has rained all day with a continuendo, and I
went in a chair to dine with Mrs. Van; always
there in a very ramy day. But I made a shift to
come back afoot. I live a very retired life, pay very
few visits, and keep but very little company; I read
no newspapers. I am sorry I sent you the Exa-
miner, for the printer is going to print them in a
small volume: it seems the author is too proud to
have them printed by subscription, though his friends
offered, they say, to make it worth five hundred
pounds to him.
3. A fine day this, and I walked a pretty deal: I
stuffed the secretary's pockets with papers, which
he must read and settle at Hampton-court, where
he went to-day, and stays some tinie. They have no
lodgings for me there, so I can't go, for the town is
small, chargeable, and inconvenient. Lord-treasun er
had a very ill night last night, with much pain in his
And
better; use exercise and walk, spend pattens and
spare potions, wear out clogs and waste claret.
Have you found out my pun of the fishmonger?
don't read a word more till you have got it.
Stella is handsome again, you say? and is she fat?
I have sent to Leigh the set of Examiners; the first
thirteen were written by several hands, some good,
some bad; the next three-and-thirty were all by
one hand, that makes forty-six: then that author,
whoever he was, laid it down on purpose to cou-
found guessers; and the last six were written by a
woman. Then there is "An Account of Uniseard,'
JOURNAL. TO STELLA.
221
<
by the same woman, but the facts sent by Presto.
Then "An Answer to the Letter to the Lords about
Gregg," by Presto; "Prior's Journey," by Presto;
Vindication of the Duke of Marlborough," entirely
by the same woman; "Comment on Hare's Ser-
mon," by the same woman, only hints sent to the
printer from Presto to give her. Then there's the
Miscellany, an apron for Stella, a pound of choco-
a pound of choco-
late, without sugar, for Stella, a fine snuff-rasp of
ivory, given me by Mrs. St. John for Dingley, and
a large roll of tobacco, which she must hide or cut
shorter out of modesty, and four pair of spectacles
for the Lord knows who. There's the cargo, I hope
it will come safe. O, Mrs. Masham and I are very
well; we write to one another, but it is upon busi-
ness; I believe I told you so before: pray pardon
my forgetfulness in these cases; poor Presto can't
help it. MD shall have the money as soon as Tooke
gets it.
And so I think I have answered all, and
the paper is out, and now I have fetched up my
week, and will send you another this day fortnight.
-Why, you rogues, two crowns make tench-ill-ling:
you are so dull you could never have found it out.
Farewell, &c. &c.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FOURTH.
London, Nov. 3, 1711.
MY 33rd lies now before me just finished, and I am
going to seal and send it, so let me know whether
you would have me add anything: I gave you my
journal of this day; and it is now nine at night, and
I am going to be busy for an hour or two.
4. I left a friend's house to-day, where I was
invited, just when dinner was setting on, and pre-
tended I was engaged, because I saw some fellows
I did not know; and went to sir Matthew Dudley's,
where I had the same inconvenience, but he would"
not let me go; otherwise I would have gone home,
and sent for a slice of mutton and a pot of ale, ra-
ther than dine with persons unknown, as bad. for
aught I know, as your deans, parsons, and curates.
Bad slabby weather to-day.-Now methinks I write
at ease, when I have no letter of MD's to answer.
But I mistook, and have got the large paper. The
queen is laid up with the gout at Hampton-court;
she is now seldom without it any long time toge-
ther I fear it will wear her out in a very few years.
I plainly find I have less twitchings about my toes
since these ministers are sick and out of town, and
that I don't dine with them. I would compound
I would compound
for a light easy gout to be perfectly well in my head.
-Pray walk when the frost comes, young ladies,
go a frost-biting. It comes into my head that, from
the very time you first went to Ireland, I have been
always plying you to walk and read. The young
fellows here have begun a kind of fashion to walk,
and many of them have got swingeing strong shoes
on purpose; it has got as far as several young lords
if it hold, it would be a very good thing. Lady
Lucy and I are fallen out: she rails at me, and I
have left visiting her.
5. MD was very troublesome to me last night in
my sleep; I was a dreamed, methought, that Stella
was here. I asked her after Dingley, and she said
she had left her in Ireland, because she designed
her stay to be short, and such stuff.--Monsieur
Pontchartrain, the secretary of state in France, and
Monsieur Fontenelle, the secretary of the Royal
Academy there (who writ the Dialogues des Morts,
&c.), have sent letters to lord Pembroke, that the
Academy have, with the king's consent, chosen him
one of their members in the room of one who is
lately dead." But the cautious gentleman has given
"
over
me the letters to show my lord Dartmouth and Mr.
St. John, our two secretaries, and let them see there
is no treason in them; which I will do on Wednes-
day, when they come from Hampton-court. The
letters are very handsome, and it is a very great
mark of honour and distinction to lord Pembroke.
I hear the two French ministers are come
again about the peace; but I have seen nobody of
consequence to know the truth. I dined to-day
with a lady of my acquaintance, who was sick, in
her bedchamber, upon three herrings and a chicken;
the dinner was my bespeaking. We begin now to
have chesnuts and Seville oranges; have you the
latter yet? 'Twas a terrible windy day, and we had
processions in carts of the pope and the devil, and
the butchers rang their cleavers. You know this
is the fifth of November, popery and gunpowder.
6. Since I am used to this way of writing, I fancy
I could hardly make out a long letter to MD with-
out it. I think I ought to allow for every line taken
up by telling you where I dined; but that will not
be above seven lines in all, half a line to a dinner.
Your Ingoldsby is going over, and they say here he
is to be made a lord. Here was I staying in my
room till two this afternoon for that puppy sir An-
drew Fountaine, who was to go with me into the
city, and never came; and if I had not shot a dinner
flying, with one Mr. Murray, I might have fasted, or
gone to an alehouse. You never said one word of
Good Storte in your letter; but I suppose these
winter-nights we shall hear more of her. Does the
provost laugh as much as he used to do? We reckon
him here a good-for-nothing fellow. I design to
write to your dean one of these days, but I can never
find time, nor what to say. I will think of some-
thing: but if DD [Stella and Dingley] were not in
Ireland, I believe seriously I should not think of
the place twice a-year. Nothing there ever makes
the subject of talk in any company where I am.
7. I went to-day to the city on business; but
stopped at a printer's and stayed there
it was a
most delicious day. I hear the parliament is to be
prorogued for a fortnight longer; I suppose, either
because the queen has the gout, or that lord-treasurer
is not well, or that they would do something more
toward a peace.
I called at lord-treasurer's at noon,
But
and sat awhile with lord Harley, but his father was
asleep. A bookseller has reprinted or new-titled a
sermon of Tom Swift's, printed last year, and pub-
lishes an advertisement calling it Dr. Swift's sermon.
Some friend of lord Galway has, by his directions,
published a four-shilling book about his conduct in
Spain, to defend him; I have but just seen it.
what care you for books, except Presto's Miscella-
nies? Leigh promised to call and see me, but has
not yet; I hope he will take care of his cargo, and
get your Chester box. A murrain take that box;
everything is spoiled that is in it. How does the
strong box do? you, say nothing of Raymond: is
his wife brought to bed again; or how? has he
furnished his house, paid his debts, and put out
the rest of the money to use? I am glad to hear
poor Joe is like to get his two hundred pounds. I
suppose Trim is now reduced to slavery again. I
am glad of it; the people were as great rascals as
the gentlemen. But I must go to bed, sirrahs; the
secretary is still at Hampton-court with my papers,
or is come only to-night. They plague me with
attending them.
8. I was with the secretary this morning, and we
dined with Prior, and did business this afternoon till
about eight; and I must alter and undo, and a clut-
ter. I am glad the parliament is prorogued. I
stayed with Prior till eleven; the secretary left us
222
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
at eight. Prior, I believe, will be one of those em-
ployed to make the peace when a congress is opened.
Lord Ashburnham told to-day at the coffeehouse
that lord Harley was yesterday morning married to
the duke of Newcastle's daughter, the great heiress,
and it got about all the town But I saw lord Har-
ley yesterday at noon in his nightgown, and he dined
in the city with Prior and others; so it is not true;
but I hope it will be so; for I know it has been
privately managing this long time : the lady will
not have half her father's estate; for the duke left
lord Pelham's son his heir. The widow duchess
will not stand to the will; and she is now at law
with Pelham. However, at worst, the girl will have
about ten thousand pounds a-year to support the
honour; for lord-treasurer will never save a groat
for himself. Lord Harley is a very valuable young
gentleman; and they say the girl is handsome, and
has good sense, but red hair.
9. I designed a jaunt into the city to-day to bẹ
merry, but was disappointed; so one always is in
this life; and I could not see lord Dartmouth to-day,
with whom I had some business. Business and
pleasure both disappointed. You can go to your
dean, and, for want of him, Goody Stoyte, or Walls,
or Manley, and meet everywhere with cards and
claret. I dined privately with a friend on a herring
and chicken, and half a flask of bad Florence. I
begin to have fires now when the mornings are cold.
I have got some loose bricks at the back of my grate
for good husbandry. Fine weather. Patrick tells
me my caps are wearing out. I know not how to
get others. I want a necessary woman strangely.
I am as helpless as an elephant. I had three pack-
ets from the archbishop of Dublin, cost me four
shillings, all about Higgins, printed stuff, and two
long letters. His people forgot to enclose them to
Lewis; and they were only directed to doctor Swift,
without naming London or anything else. I wonder
how they reached me, unless the postmaster directed
them. I have read all the trash and am weary.
10. Why; if you must have it out, something is
to be published of great moment, and three or four
great people are to see there are no mistakes in point
of fact and 'tis so troublesome to send it among
them, and get their corrections, that I am weary as
a dog. I dined to-day with the printer, and was
there all the afternoon; and it plagues me, and there's
an end, and what would you have? Lady Dupplin,
lord-treasurer's daughter, is brought to-bed of a son.
Lord-treasurer has had an ugly return of his gravel.
'Tis good for us to live in gravel-pits, but not for
gravel-pits to live in us; and a man in this case
should leave no stone unturned. Lord-treasurer's
sickness, the queen's gout, the forwarding the peace,
occasion putting off the parliament a fortnight longer.
My head has had no ill returns. I had good walk-
ing to-day in the city, and take all opportunities
of it on purpose for my health; but I can't walk in
the park, because that is only for walking sake, and
loses time, so I mix it with business. I wish MD
walked half as much as Presto. If I was with you,
I'd make you walk; I would walk behind or before
you, and you should have masks on, and be tucked
up like anything; and Stella is naturally a stout
walker, and carries herself firm; methinks I see her
strut, and step clever over a kennel; and Dingley
would do well enough if her petticoats were pinned
up; but she is so embroiled, and so fearful, and then
Stella scolds, and Dingley stumbles and is so dag-
gled. Have you got the whalebone petticoats among
The great end, lord Bolingbroke says, of Harley's admi-
nistration was to marry his son to this lady; which he accom-
plished.
you yet? I hate them; a woman here may hide a
moderate gallant under them. Pshaw, what's all
this I'm saying? Methinks I am talking to MD
face to face.
11. Did I tell you that old Frowde, the old fool,
is selling his estate at Pepperhara, and is sculking
about the town nobody knows where? and who do
you think manages all this for him, but that rogue
Child, the double squire of Farnham? I have
put
Mrs. Masham, the queen's favourite, upon buying it;
but that is yet a great secret; and I have employed
lady Oglethorp to inquire about it. I was with lady
Oglethorp to-day, who is come to town for a week
or two, and to-morrow I will see to hunt out the old
fool; he is utterly ruined, and at this present in some
blind alley with some dirty wench. He has two
sons that must starve, and he never gives them a
farthing. If Mrs. Masham buys the land, I will
desire her to get the queen to give some pension to
the old fool, to keep him from absolutely starving.
What do you meddle with other people's affairs for!
says Stella.
O but Mr. Masham and his wife are
very urgent with me, since I first put them in the
head of it. I dined with sir Matthew Dudley, who,
I doubt, will soon lose his employment.
12. Morning. I am going to hunt out old Frowde,
and to do some business in the city. I have not yet
called to Patrick to know whether it be fair. It has
been past dropping these two days. Rainy weather
hurts my pate and my purse.
He tells me 'tis very
windy and begins to look dark; woe be to my shil-
lings! an old saying and a true,—
Few fillings, many shillings.
If the day be dark, my purse will be light.
To my enemies be this curse,
A dark day and a light purse.
And so I'll rise and go to my fire, for Patrick tells
me I have a fire; yet it is not shaving-day, nor is
the weather cold; this is too extravagant. What is
become of Dilly? I suppose you have him with you.
Stella is just now showing a white leg, and putting
it into the slipper. Present my service to her, and
tell her I am engaged to the dean: and desire she
will come too: or, Dingley, can't you write a note?
This is Stella's morning dialogue, no, morning speech
I mean. Morrow, sirrahs, and let me rise as well
as you;
but I promise you Walls can't dine with the
dean to-day, for she is to be at Mrs. Proby's just after
dinner, and to go with Gracy Spencer to the shops
to buy a yard of muslin, and a silver lace for an un-
der petticoat. Morrow again, sirrahs. At night.-
I dined with Stratford in the city, but could not
finish my affairs with him; but now I have resolved
to buy five hundred pounds South Sea stock, which
will cost me three hundred and eighty ready money;
and I will make use of the bill of a hundred pounds
you sent me, and transfer Mrs. Walls over to Hawk-
shaw; or, if she dislikes it, I will borrow a hundred
pounds of the secretary and repay her. Three shil-
lings coach-hire to-day. I have spoken to Frowde's
brother to get me the lowest price of the estate to
tell Mrs. Masham.
13. I dined privately with a friend to-day in the
neighbourhood. Last Saturday night I came home,
and the drab had just washed my room, and my
bedchamber was all wet, and I was forced to go
to bed in my own defence, and no fire; I was
sick on Sunday, and now have got a swingeing cold.
I scolded like a dog at Patrick, although he was
out with me; I detest washing of rooms; can't they
wash them in a morning, and make a fire, and leave
open the windows? I slept not a wink last night
for hawking and spitting and now everybody has
JOURNAL TO STELLA
223
colds
I can.
Here's a clatter: I'll go to bed and sleep if
14. Lady Mountjoy sent to me two days ago, so I
dined with her to-day, and in the evening went to
see lord-treasurer. I found Patrick had been just
I found Patrick had been just
there with a how d'ye, and my lord had returned
answer that he desired to see me. Mrs. Masham
was with him when I came; and they are never
disturbed: 'tis well she is not very handsome; they
I sat with
sit alone together settling the nation.
lady Oxford, and stopped Mrs. Masham as she came
out, and told her what progress I had made, &c.,
and then went to lord-treasurer: he is very well,
only uneasy at rising or sitting, with some rheu-
matic pains in his thigh, and a foot weak. He
showed me a small paper, sent by an unknown hand
to one Mr. Cook, who sent it to my lord: it was
written in plain large letters thus:-
"Though Gd's knife did not succeed,
A Fn's yet may do the deed.”
And a little below, "Burn this, you dog."
My lord
has frequently such letters as these: once he showed
me one, which was a vision describing a certain man,
his dress, his sword, and his countenance, who was
to murder my lord. And he told me he saw a fel-
low in the chapel at Windsor with a dress like
"Your
it. They often send him letters signed,
humble servant, the devil," and such stuff. I sat
with him till after ten, and have business to do.
very
15. The secretary came yesterday to town from
Hampton-court, so I went to him early this morn-
ing; but he went back last night again: and com-
ing home to-night I found a letter from him to tell
me that he was just come from Hampton-court, and
just returning, and will not be here till Saturday
night. A A pox take him; he stops all my business.
I'll beg leave to come back when I have got over
this; and hope to see MD in Ireland soon after
Christmas. I am weary of courts, and want my
journeys to Laracor; they did me more good than
all the ministries these twenty years. I dined to-
day in the city, but did no business as I designed.
Lady Mountjoy tells me that Dilly is got to Ireland,
and that the archbishop of Dublin was the cause of
his returning so soon. The parliament was pro-
rogued two days ago for a fortnight, which, with the
queen's absence, makes the town very dull and
empty. They tell me the duke of Ormond brings
all the world away with him from Ireland. London
has nothing so bad in it in winter as your knots of
Irish folks; but I go to no coffeehouse, and so I
seldom see them. This letter shall go on Satur-
day; and then I am even with the world again. I
have lent money, and cannot get it, and am forced
to borrow for myself.
16. My man made a blunder this morning, and
let up a visitor, when I had ordered to see nobody;
so I was forced to hurry a hang-dog instrument of
mine into my bedchamber, and keep him cooling his
heels there above an hour. I am going on fairly in
the common forms of a great cold; I believe it will
last me about ten days in all.-I should have told
you that in those two verses sent to lord-treasurer
the Gd stands for Guiscard; that is easy; but
we differed about F-n: I thought it was for
Frenchman, because he hates them, and they him:
and so it would be, That, although Guiscard's
knife missed its design, the knife of a Frenchman.
might yet do it." My lord thinks it stands for
Felton, the name of him that stabbed the first duke
of Buckingham. - Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined
with the Vuns to-day, and my cold made me loiter
all the evening. Stay, young women, don't you
begin to owe me a letter? just a month to-day since
I had your No. 22. I'll stay a week longer, and
then I'll expect like agog; till then you may play at
ombre, and so forth, as you please. The Whigs are
still crying down our peace, but we will have it, I hope,
in spite of them: the emperor comes now with his two
eggs a penny, and promises wonders to continue the
war; but it is too late; only I hope the fear of it
will serve to spur on the French to be easy and sin
cere. Night, sirrahs; I'll go early to bed.
17. Morning.-This goes to-night; I will put it
myself in the post-office. I had just now a long
letter from the archbishop of Dublin, giving me an
account of the ending your sessions, how it ended in
a storm, which storm, by the time it arrives here.
will be only half nature. I can't help it, I won't
hide. I often advised the dissolution of that par-
liament, although I did not think the scoundrels had
so much courage; but they have it only in the
wrong, like a bully that will fight for a whore, and
run away in an army. I believe, by several things
the archbishop says, he is not very well either with
the government or clergy.-See how luckily my paper
ends with a fortnight.-God Almighty bless and
preserve dearest little MD.-I suppose your lord-
lieutenant is now setting out for England. I wonder
the bishop of Clogher does not write to me, or let
me know of his statues, and how he likes them: I
will write to him again as soon as I have leisure.
Farewell, dearest MD, and love Presto, who loves
MD infinitely above all earthly things, and who
will. My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine.
I'm sitting in my bed, but will rise to seal this.
Morrow, dear rogues. Farewell again, dearest
MD, &c.
LETTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH.
London, Nov. 17, 1711.
I PUT my last this evening in the post-office. I
dined with Dr. Cockburn. This being queen Eliza-
beth's birthday, we have the d- and all to do
among us. I just heard of the stir as my letter was
sealed this morning; and was so cross I would not
open it to tell you. I have been visiting lady Ogle-
thorp and lady Worsley; the latter is lately come
to town for the winter, and with child, and what
care you? This is queen Elizabeth's birthday,
usually kept in this town by apprentices, &c.; but
the Whigs designed a mighty procession by mid-
night, and had laid out a thousand pounds to dress up
the pope, devil, cardinals, Sacheverel, &c., and carry
them with torches about, and burn them. They did it
by contribution. Garth gave five guineas; Dr. Garth
I mean, if ever you heard of him. But they were
seized last night, by order from the secretary; you
will have an account of it, for they bawl it about the
streets already. They had some very foolish and
mischievous designs; and it was thought they would
have put the rabble upon assaulting my lord-trea-
surer's house, and the secretary's, and other vio-
lences. The militia was raised to prevent it, and
now, I suppose, all will be quiet. The figures are
now at the secretary's office at Whitehall. I design
to see them if I can.
·
18. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, who
just came from Hampton-court. He was telling
me more particulars about this business of burning
the pope. It cost a great deal of money, and, had
it gone on, would have cost three times as much
but the town is full of it, and half a dozen Grub-
street papers already. The secretary and I dined at
brigadier Britton's, but I left them at six, upon au
appointment with some sober company of men and
ladies, to drink punch at sir Andrew Fountaine's.
224
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
We were not very merry; and I don't love rack
punch, I love it better with brandy; are you of my
opinion? Why, then, twelvepenny weather; sirrahs,
why don't you play at shuttlecock? I have thought
of it a hundred times: faith, Presto will come over
after Christmas, and will play with Stella before the
cold weather is gone. Do you read the Spectators?
I never do; they never come in my way; I go to
no coffeehouses. They say abundance of them are
very pretty; they are going to be printed in small
volumes; I'll bring them over with me. I shall
be out of my hurry in a week, and if Leigh be not
gone over, I will send you by him what I am now
finishing. I don't know where Leigh is; I have
not seen him this good while, though he promised to
call: I shall send to him. The queen comes to town
on Thursday for good and all.
19 I was this morning at lord Dartmonth's office,
and sent out for him from the committee of council,
about some business. I was asking him more con-
cerning this bustle about the figures in waxwork of
the pope, and devil, &c. He was not at leisure, or
he would have seen them. I hear the owners are
so impudent that they design to replevin them by
law. I am assured that the figure of the devil is
made as like lord-treasurer as they could. Why, I
dined with a friend in St James's-street. Lord-
treasurer, I am told, was abroad to-day: I will know
to-morrow how he does after it. The duke of Marl-
borough is come, and was yesterday at Hampton-
court with the queen; no, it was t'other day; no, it
·was yesterday; for to-day I remember Mr. Secretary
was going to see him, when I was there, not at the
duke of Marlborough's, but at the secretary's; the
duke is not so fond of me. What care I? I won
seven shillings to-night at picquet: I play twice a
year or so.
20. I have been so teased with Whiggish discourse
by Mrs. Barton and lady Betty Germain, never saw
the like. They turn all this affair of the pope burn-
ing into ridicule; and, indeed, they have made too
great a clutter about it, if they had no real reason to
apprehend some tumults. I dined with lady Betty.
I hear Prior's commission is passed to be ambas-
sador extraordinary and plenipotentiary for the
peace; my lord privy seal, who you know is bishop
of Bristol, is the other; and lord Strafford, already
ambassador at the Hague, the third: I am forced to
tell you, ignorant sluts, who is who.
I was pun-
ning scurvily with sir Andrew Fountaine and lord
Pembroke this evening; do you ever pun now?
Sometimes the dean, or Tom Leigh. Prior puns
very well. Odso, I must go see his excellency, 'tis
a noble advancement: but they could do no less
after sending him to France. Lord Strafford is as
proud as hell, and how he will bear one of Prior's
mean birth on an equal character with him I know
not. And so I go to my business, and bid you good
night.
21. I was this morning busy with my printer; I
gave him the fifth sheet, and then I went and dined
with him in the city, to correct something, and alter,
&c., and I walked home in the dusk, and the rain
overtook me and I found a letter here from Mr.
Lewis; well, and so I opened it, and he says the
peace is past danger, &c. Well, and so there was
another letter enclosed in his; well, and so I looked
on the outside of this t'other letter. Well, and so
who do you think this t'other letter was from? Well,
and so I'll tell you, it was from little MD, No. 23,
23, 23, 23. I tell you it is no more, I have told you
so before, but I just looked again to satisfy you.
Hie, Stella, you write like an emperor, a great deal
together; a very good hand, and but four false
|
|
spellings in all.
Shall I send them to you? I am
glad you did not take my correction ill. Well, but
I won't answer your letter now, sirrah saucy boxes,
no, no, not yet; just a month and three days from
the last, which is just five weeks: you see it comes
just when I begin to grumble.
22. Morning.-Tooke has just brought me Ding-
ley's money. I will give you a note for it at the
end of this letter. There was half-a-crown for en-
tering the letter of attorney, but I swore to stop
that. I'll spend your money bravely here. Mor-
row, dear sirrahs. At night.-I dined to-day with
sir Thomas Hanmer; his wife, the duchess of Graf-
ton, dined with us: she wears a great high head-
dress, such as was in fashion fifteen years ago. and
looks like a mad woman in it; yet she has great re-
mains of beauty. I was this evening to see lord
Harley, and thought to have sat with lord-treasurer,
but he was taken up with the Dutch envoy, and
such folks, and I would not stay. One particular
in life here, different from what I have in Dublin,
is, that whenever I come home I expect to find some
letter for me, and seldom miss, and never any worth
a farthing, but often to vex me. The queen does not
come to town till Saturday. Prior is not yet declared;
but these ministers being at Hampton-court I know
nothing; and if I write news from common hands,
it is always lies. You will think it affectation, but
nothing has vexed me more for some months past
than people I never saw pretending to be acquainted
with me, and yet speak ill of me too; at least some
of them. An old crooked Scotch countess, whom I
never heard of in my life, told the duchess of
Hamilton t'other day that I often visited her. People
of worth never do that: so that a man only gets the
scandal of having scurvy acquaintance. Three ladies
were railing against me some time ago, and said they
were very well acquainted with me; two of which I
had never heard of, and the third I had only seen
twice where I happened to visit. A man who has
once seen me in a coffechouse will ask me how I dio
when he sees me talking at court with a minister of
state, who is sure to ask me how I came acquainted
with that scoundrel. But come, sirrahs, this is all
stuff to you, so I'll say no more on this side the
paper, but turn over.
23. My printer invited Mr. Lewis and me to dine
at a tavern to-day, which I have not done five times
since I came to England; I never will call it Britain,
pray don't call it Britain. My week is not out, and
one side of this paper is out, and I have a letter to
answer of MD's into the bargain: must I write on
the third side? faith, that will give you an ill habit.
I saw Leigh last night; he gives a terrible account
of Sterne; he reckons he is seduced by some wench;
he is over head and ears in debt, and has pawned
several things. Leigh says he goes on Monday next
for Ireland, but believes Sterne will not go with
him Sterne has kept him these three months.
Leigh has got the apron and things, and promises to
call for the box at Chester, but I despair of it. Good
night, sirrahs; I have been late abroad.
:
24. I have finished my pamphlet to-day, which
has cost me so much time and trouble; it will be
published in three or four days, when the parliament
begins sitting. I suppose the queen is come to town,
but know nothing, having been in the city finishing
and correcting with the printer. When I came home
I found letters on my table as usual, and one from
your mother, to tell me that you desire your writings
and a picture should be sent to me, to be sent over
to you.
I have just answered her letter, and pro-
mised to take care of them if they be sent to me.
She is at Farnham: it is too late to send them by
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
225
Leigh; besides, I will wait your orders, madam
Stella. I am going to finish a letter to lord-trea-
surer about reforming our language; but first I
must put an end to a ballad; and go you to your
cards, sirrahs, this is card season.
25. I was early with the secretary to-day, but he
was gone to his devotions, and to receive the sacra-
ment; several rakes did the same; it was not for
piety, but employments; according to act of parlia-
ment. I dined with lady Mary Dudley, and passed
my time since insipidly, only I was at court at noon,
and saw fifty acquaintance I had not met this long
time that is the advantage of a court, and I fancy
I am better known than any man that goes there.
Sir John Walters' quarrel with me has entertained
the town ever since; and yet we never had a word,
only he railed at me behind my back. The par-
liament is again to be prorogued for eight or nine
days, for the Whigs are too strong in the house of
lords: other reasons are pretended, but that is the
truth. The prorogation is not yet known, but will
be to-morrow.
26. Mr. Lewis and I dined with a friend of his,
and unexpectedly there dined with us an Irish
knight, one sir John St. Leger [afterwards a judge
in Ireland], who follows the law here, but at a great
distance he was so pert, I was forced to take him
down more than once. I saw to-day the pope, and
devil, and the other figures of cardinals, &c., fifteen
in all, which have made such a noise. I have put
an understrapper upon writing a twopenny pamphlet
to give an account of the whole design. My large
pamphlet will be published to-morrow; copies are
sent to the great men this night. Domville [of
Longman's town, county of Dublin] is come home
from his travels; I am vexed at it; I have not
seen him yet; I design to present him to all the
great men.
27. Domville came to me this morning, and we
dined at Pontack's, and were all day together, till
six this evening; he is perfectly as fine a gentleman
as I know; he set me down at lord-treasurer's, with
whom I stayed about an hour, till Monsieur Buys,
the Dutch envoy, came to him about some business.
My lord-treasurer is pretty well, but stiff in the hips
with the remains of the rheumatism. I am to bring
Domville to my lord Harley in a day or two. It
was the dirtiest rainy day that ever I saw. The
phamphlet is published; lord-treasurer had it by him
on the table, and was asking me about the mottoes
in the title-page; he gave me one of them himself.
I must send you the phamplet, if I can.
28. Mrs. Van sent to me to dine with her to-day,
because some ladies of my acquaintance were to be
there; and there I dined. I was this morning to
return Domville his visit, and went to visit Mrs.
Masham, who was not within. I am turned out of
my lodging by my landlady: it seems her husband
and her son are coming home; but I have taken
another lodging hard by, in Leicester-fields. I pre-
sented Mr. Domville to Mr. Lewis and Mr. Prior
this morning. Prior and I are called the two Sosias,
in a Whig Newspaper. Sosias, can you read it? The
pamphlet begins to make a noise; I was asked by sevc-
ral whether I had seen it, and they advised me to read
it, for it was something very extraordinary. I shall
be suspected; and it will have several paltry answers.
It must take its fate, as Savage said of his sermon
that he preached at Farnham on sir William Temple's
death. Domville saw Savage in Italy, and says he is
a coxcomb, and half mad: he goes in red and with
yellow waistcoats, and was at ceremony kneeling to
the pope on a Palm Sunday, which is much more
than kissing his toe; and I believe it will ruin him
VOY I.
4
here when 'tis told. I'll answer your letter in my
new lodgings: I have hardly room; I must borrow
from the other side.
29. New lodgings. My printer came this morning
to tell me he must immediately print a second edition,
and lord-treasurer made one or two small additions:
they must work day and night to have it out on
Our
Saturday; they sold a thousand in two days.
society met to-day, nine of us were present; we
dined at our brother Bathurst's: we made several
regulations, and have chosen three new members,
lord Orrery, Jack Hill, who is Mrs. Masham's bro-
ther, he that lately miscarried in the expedition to
Quebec, and one colonel Dinsey.-We have taken a
I left
room in a house near St. James's to meet in.
them early about correcting the pamphlet, &c., and
am now got home, &c.
30. This morning I carried Domville to see my
lord Harley, and I did some business with lord-trea-
surer, and have been all this afternoon with the printer,
adding something to the second edition. I dined with
the printer the pamphlet makes a world of noise,
and will do a great deal of good; it tells abundance
of most important facts which were not at all known.
I'll answer your letter to-morrow morning; or sup-
pose I answer it just now, though it is pretty late.
Come, then.-You say you are busy with parliaments,
&c.; that's more than ever I will be when I come
back
back; but you will have none these two years.
Lord Santry, &c., yes, I have had enough on't. I
am glad Dilly is mended; does he not thank me for
showing him the court and the great people's faces?
He had his glass out at the queen and the rest. 'Tis
right what Dilly says; I depend upon nothing from
my friends, but to go back as I came. Never fear
Laracor, 'twill mend with a peace, or surely they'll
give me the Dublin parish. Stella is in the right;
the bishop of Ossory is the silliest, best-natured
wretch breathing, of as little consequence as an egg-
shell. Well, the spelling I have mentioned before ;
only the next time say at least, and not at lest. Pox
on your Newbury! what can I do for him? I'll give
his case (I am glad it is not a woman's) to what
members I know; that's all I can do. Lord-trea-
surer's lameness goes off daily. Pray God preserve
poor good Mrs. Stoyte, she would be a great loss to
us all; pray give her my service, and tell her she has
my heartiest prayers. I pity poor Mrs. Manley; but I
think the child is happy to die, considering how little
provision it would have had.-Poh, every pamphlet
abuses me, and for things I never writ. Joe should
have written me thanks for his two hundred pounds:
I reckon he got it by my means; and I must thank
the duke of Ormond, who I dare swear will say
he
did it on my account. Are they golden pippins, those
seven apples? We have had much rain every day as
well as you.
£7. 17s. 8d. old blunderer, not 18s. :
pay
I have reckoned it eighteen times. Hawkshaw's eight
pounds is not reckoned; and if it be secure, it may
lie where it is, unless they desire to pay it: so Par-
visol may let it drop till further orders; for I have
put Mrs.Wesley's money into the bank, and will
her with Hawkshaw's--I mean that Hawkshaw's
money goes for an addition to MD, you know; but
be good housewives. Bernage never comes now to
see me; he has no more to ask! but I hear he has
been ill.-A pox on Mrs. South's affair! I can do
nothing in it, but by way of assisting anybody else
that solicits it, by dropping a favourable word, if it
comes in my way. Tell Walls I do no more for
any-
body with my lord treasurer, especially a thing of
this kind. Tell him I have spent all my discretion,
and have no more to use.-And so I have answered
your letter fully and plainly.-And so I have got te
Q
226
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
the third side of my paper, which is more than be-
longs to you, young women. It goes to-morrow,
to nobody's sorrow. You are silly, not I; I'm a
poet, if I had but, &c.-Who's silly now? rogues
and lasses, tinderboxes and buzzards. O Lord, I am
in a high vein of silliness; methought I was speak-
ing to dearest little MD face to face. There; so
lads, enough for to-night; to cards with the black-
guards! Good-night, my delight, &c.
December 1. Pish! sirrahs, put a date always at
the bottom of your letter, as well as the top, that I
may know when you send it; your last is of November
3, yet I had others at the same time, written a fort-
night after. Whenever you would have any money,
send me word three weeks before, and in that time
you will certainly have an answer, with a bill on
Parvisol: pray do this; for my head is full, and it
will ease my memory. Why, I think I quoted to
you some of — -'s letter, so you may imagine how
witty the rest was; for it was all of a bunch, as
goodman Peesley says. Pray let us have no more
bussiness, but busyness: the deuce take me if I know
how to spell it; your wrong spelling, madam Stella,
has put me out: it does not look right; let me see,
bussiness, busyness, business, bisyness, bisness, bys-
ness; faith, I know not which is right, I think the
second; I believe I never writ the word in my life
before; yes, sure I must, though; business, busyness,
bisyness.— I have perplexed myself, and can't do
it. Prithee ask Walls. Business, I fancy that's
right. Yes it is; I looked in my own pamphlet, and
found it twice in ten lines, to convince you that I
never writ it before. O, now I see it as plain as can
be; so yours is only an s too much. The parliament
will certainly meet on Friday next; the Whigs will
have a great majority in the house of lords, no care
is taken to prevent it; there is too much neglect;
they are warned of it, and that signifies nothing: it
was feared there would be some peevish address from
the lords against a peace. 'Tis said about the town
that several of the allies begin now to be content that
a peace should be treated. This is all the news I
have. The queen is pretty well; and so now I bid
poor dearest MD farewell till to-night, then I will
talk with them again.
The fifteen images that I saw were not worth forty
pounds, so I stretched a little when I said a thousand.
The Grub-street account of that tumult is published.
The devil is not like lord-treasurer: they were all in
your odd antic mask, bought in common shops. I
fear Prior will not be one of the plenipotentiaries.
I was looking over this letter, and find I make
many mistakes of leaving out words; so 'tis impossi-
ble to find any meaning, unless you be conjurors. I
will take more care for the future, and read over
every day just what I have written that day, which
will take up no time to speak of.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SIXTH.
London, Dec. 1, 1711.
My last was put in this evening. I intended to
dine with Mr. Masham to-day, and called at White's
chocolate-house to see if he was there. Lord Wharton
saw me at the door, and I saw him, but took no
notice, and was going away, but he came through
the crowd, called after me, and asked me how I did,
&c. This was pretty; and I believe he wished every
word he spoke was a halter to hang me. Masham did
not dine at home, so I ate with a friend in the neigh-
bourhood. The printer has not sent me the second
edition; I know not the reason, for it certainly came
out to-day; perhaps they are glutted with it already.
1 found a letter from lord Harley on my table, to
|
tell me that his father desires I would make two
small alterations. I am going to be busy, &c.
2. Morning. See the blunder; I was making it
the 37th day of the mouth, from the number above.
Well, but I am staying here for old Frowde, [author
of poems and plays] who appointed to call this morn-
ing: I am ready dressed to go to church: I suppose
he dare not stir out but on Sundays. The printer
called early this morning, told me the second edition
went off yesterday in five hours, and he must have
a third ready to-morrow, for they might have sold half
another his men are all at work with it, though it
be Sunday. This old fool will not come, and I shall
miss church. Morrow, sirrahs. At night.-I was
at court to-day: the queen is well, and walked
through part of the rooms. I dined with the secre-
tary, and despatched some business. He tells me
the Dutch envoy designs to complain of that pam-
phlet.
phlet. The noise it makes is extraordinary. It is
fit it should answer the pains I have been at about it.
suppose it will be printed in Ireland. Some lay it
to Prior, others to Mr. secretary St. John, but I am
always the first they lay everything to.
I'll go
sleep, &c.
I
over.
3. I have ordered Patrick not to let any odd fellow
come up to me; and a fellow would needs speak with
me from sir George Prettyman. I had never heard of
him, and would not see the messenger: but at last it
proved that this sir George has sold his estate and is
a beggar. Smithers, the Farnham carrier, brought me
this morning a letter from your mother, with three
papers enclosed of lady Giffard's writing; one owning
some exchequer business of 1007. to be Stella's; ano-
ther for 1007. that she has of yours, which I made over
to you for Mariston; and a third for 3007.: the last is
on stamped paper. I think they had better he in
England in some good hand till lady Giffard dies;
and I will think of some such hand before I come
I was asking Smithers about all the people at
Farnham. Mrs. White has left off dressing, is trou-
bled with lameness and swelled legs, and seldom
stirs out; but her old hang-dog husband as hearty
as ever. I was this morning with lord treasurer,
about something he would have altered in the pam-
phlet; but it can't be till the fourth edition, which I
believe will be soon; for I dined with the printer,
and he tells me they have sold off half the third.
Mrs. Percival and her daughter have been in town
these three weeks, which I never heard till to-day ;
and Mrs. Wesley is come to town too, to consult Dr.
Radcliffe. The Whigs are resolved to bring that
pamphlet into the house of lords to have it con-
demned, so I hear. But the printer will stand to it,
and not own the author; he must say he had it
from the penny-post. Some people talk as if the
house of lords would do some peevish thing; for
the Whigs are now a great majority in it; our mi-
nisters are too negligent of such things: I have
never slipped giving them warning: some of them
are sensible of it; but lord-treasurer stands to much
upon his own legs. I fancy his good fortune will
bear him out in everything; but in reason I should
think this ministry to stand very unsteady; if they
can carry a peace, they may hold; I believe not
else.
4. Mr. Secretary sent to me to-day to dine with
him alone; but we had two more with us, which
hindered me doing some business. I was this morn-
ing with young Harcourt, secretary to our society,
to take a room for our weekly meetings; and the
fellow asked us five guineas a-week only to have
leave to dine once a-week; was not that pretty? so
we broke off with him, and are to dine next Thurs-
day at Harcourt's (he is lord-keeper's son). They
JOURNAL TO STELLA
227
have sold off above half the third edition, and an-
swers are coming out: the Dutch envoy refused
dining with Dr. Davenant, because he was suspected
to write it I have made some alterations in every
edition, and it has cost me more trouble for the time
since the printing than before. 'Tis sent over to
Ireland, and I suppose you will have it reprinted.
5. They are now printing the fourth edition, which
is reckoned very extraordinary, considering 'tis a dear
twelvepenny book, and not bought up in numbers;
by the party to give away, as the Whigs do, but
purely upon its own strength. I have got an under
spur-leather to write an Examiner again, and the
secretary and I will now and then send hints; but
we would have it a little upon the Grub-street, to be
a match for their writers. I dined with lord-trea-
surer to-day at five: he dined by himself after his
family, and drinks no claret yet, for fear of his rheu-
matism, of which he is almost well. He was very
pleasant, as he is always: yet I fancied he was a
little touched with the present posture of affairs.
The elector of Hanover's minister here has given in
a violent memorial against the peace, and caused it
to be printed. The Whig lords are doing their
utmost for
a majority against Friday, and design, if
they can, to address the queen against the peace.
Lord Nottingham, a famous Tory and speechmaker,
is gone over to the Whig side: they toast him daily,
and lord Wharton says,
"It is Dismal (so they call
him from his looks) will save England at last."
Lord-treasurer was hinting as if he wished a ballad
was made on him, and I will get up one against to-
morrow. He gave me a scurrilous printed paper of
bad verses on himself, under the name of the Eng-
lish Catiline, and made me read them to the com-
pany. It was his birthday, which he would not tell
us, but lord Harley whispered it to me.
6. I was this morning making the ballad, two
degrees above Grub-street; at noon I paid a visit to
Mrs. Masham, and then went to dine with our
society. Poor lord-keeper dined below stairs, I
suppose, on a bit of mutton. We chose two mem-
bers; we were eleven met, the greatest meeting we
ever had: I am next week to introduce lord Orrery.
The printer came before we parted, and brought the
ballad, which made them laugh very heartily a dozen
times. He is going to print the pamphlet in small,
a fifth edition, to be taken off by friends, and sent
into the country. A sixpenny answer is come out,
good for nothing, but guessing me, among others,
for the author. To-morrow is the fatal day for the
parliament meeting, and we are full of hopes and
fears. We reckon we have a majority of ten on our
side in the house of lords; yet I observed Mrs.
Masham a little uneasy; she assures me the queen
is stout. The duke of Marlborough has not seen
the queen for some days past; Mrs. Masham is glad
of it, because she says he tells a hundred lies to his
friends of what she says to him: he is one day hum-
ble, and the next day on the high ropes. The duke
of Ormond, they say, will be in town to-night by
twelve.
7. This being the day the parliament was to meet,
and the great question to be determined, I went
with Dr. Freind to dine in the city, on purpose to
be out of the way, and we sent our printer to see
what was our fate; but he gave us a most melan-
choly account of things. The earl of Nottingham
The earl of Nottingham
began, and spoke against a peace, and desired that
in their address they might put in a clause to advise
the queen not to make a peace without Spain;
which was debated, and carried by the Whigs by
about six voices: and this has happened entirely by
my lord-treasurer's neglect, who did not take timely
|
|
care to make up all his strength, although every one
of us gave him caution enough. Nottingham has
certainly been bribed. The question is yet only
carried in the committee of the whole house, and
we hope when it is reported to the house to-morrow
we shall have a majority, by some Scotch lords com-
ing to town. However, it is a mighty blow and
loss of reputation to lord-treasurer, and may end in
his ruin. I hear the thing only as the printer
brought it, who was at the debate; but how the
ministry take it, or what their hopes and fears are, I
cannot tell until I see them. I shall be early with
the secretary to-morrow, and then I will tell you
more, and shall write a full account to the bishop of
Clogher to-morrow, and to the archbishop of Dublin,
if I have time. I am horribly down at present.
long to know how lord-treasurer bears this, and
what remedy he has.
The duke of Ormond came
this day to town, and was there.
8. I was early this morning with the secretary,
and talked over this matter. He hoped that, when
:
I
it was reported this day in the house of lords, they
would disagree with their committee, and so the
matter would go off, only with a little loss of reputa-
I dined with Dr. Cock-
tion to the lord-treasurer.
burn, and after, a Scotch member came in, and told
us that the clause was carried against the court in
I went im-
the house of lords almost two to one.
mediately to Mrs. Masham, and meeting Dr. Ar-
buthnot (the queen's favourite physician), we went
together. She was just come from waiting at the
queen's dinner, and going to her own. She had
heard nothing of the thing being gone against us.
It seems lord-treasurer had been so negligent, that
he was with the queen while the question was put
in the house: I immediately told Mrs. Masham that
either she and lord-treasurer had joined with the
queen to betray us, or that they two were betrayed
by the queen she protested solemnly it was not the
former, and I believed her; but she gave me some
lights to suspect the queen is changed. For, yester-
day when the queen was going from the house,
where she sat to hear the debate, the duke of Shrews-
bury, lord-chamberlain, asked her "whether he or
the great chamberlain Lindsay ought to lead her
out;" she answered short, "neither of you;" and
gave her hand to the duke of Somerset, who was
louder than any in the house for the clause against
peace. She gave me one or two more instances of
this sort, which convince me that the queen is false,
or at least very much wavering. Mr. Masham
begged us to stay, because lord-treasurer would call,
and we were resolved to fall on him about his negli-
gence in securing a majority. He came, and ap-
peared in good humour as usual, but I thought his
countenance was much cast down. I rallied him,
and desired him to give me his staff, which he did
I told him if he would secure it me a week, I would
set all right he asked, how? I said, I would imme-
diately turn lord Marlborough, his two daughters,
the duke and duchess of Somerset, and lord Cholmon-
deley, out of all their employments; and I believe
he had not a friend but was of my opinion. Arbuth-
not asked how he came not to secure a majority he
could answer nothing, but that he could not help it
if people would lie and forswear. A poor answer
for a great minister. There fell from him a scrip-
ture expression, that "The hearts of kings are un-
searchable." I told him it was what I feared, and
was from him the worst news he could tell me. }
begged him to know what he had to trust to: he
stuck a little; but at last bid me not fear, for all
would be well yet. We would fain have had him
eat a bit where he was, but he would go home, it
Q ?
228
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
;
has not the soul of a chicken nor the heart of a mite."
Then he went in to Mrs. Masham, and as he came
back desired her leave to let me go home with him
to dinner. He asked whether I was not afraid to be
seen with him? I said, I never valued my lord-
treasurer in my life, and therefore should have al-
ways the same esteem for Mr. Harley and lord Ox-
ford. He seemed to talk confidently, as if he
reckoned that all this would turn to advantage. I
could not forbear hinting that he was not sure of the
queen; and that those scoundrel, starving lords
would never have dared to vote against the court, if
Somerset had not assured them that it would please
the queen.
He said that was true, and Somerset
did so.
I stayed till six; then De Buys, the Dutch
envoy, came to him, and I left him. Prior was with
us a while after dinner. I see him and all of them
cast down; though they make the best of it.
was past six he made me go home with him.. | pany witn me than with such a fellow as Lewis, who
There we found his brother and Mr. Secretary. He
made his son take a list of all the house of commons
who had places, and yet voted against the court, in
such a manner as if they should lose their places: I
doubt he is not able to compass it. Lord-keeper
came in an hour, and they were going upon busi-
ness. So I left him, and returned to Mrs. Masham
but she had company with her, and I would not
stay. This is a long journal, and of a day that may
produce great alterations, and hazard the ruin of
England. The Whigs are all in triumph; they fore-
told how all this would be, but we thought it boast-
ing. Nay, they said the parliament should be dis-
solved before Christmas, and perhaps it may: this is
all your d-d duchess of Somerset's doings. I warn-
ed them of it nine months ago, and a hundred times
since the secretary always dreaded it. I told lord-
treasurer I should have the advantage of him; for he
would lose his head, and I should only be hanged,
and so carry my body entire to the grave.
9. I was this morning with Mr. Secretary; we are
both of opinion that the queen is false. I told him
what I heard, and he confirmed it by other circum-
stances. I then went to my friend Lewis, who had
sent to me. He talks of nothing but retiring to his
estate in Wales. He gave me reasons to believe the
whole matter is settled between the queen and the
Whigs; he hears that lord Somers is to be treasurer,
and believes that, sooner than turn out the duchess
of Somerset, she will dissolve the parliament, and
get a Whiggish one, which may be done by managing
elections. Things are now in the crisis, and a day
or two will determine. I have desired him to en-
gage lord-treasurer, that as soon as he finds the
change is resolved on, he will send me abroad as
queen's secretary somewhere or other, where I may
remain till the new ministers recall me; and then I
will be sick for five or six months till the storm has
spent itself. I hope he will grant me this; for I
should hardly trust myself to the mercy of my enemies
while their anger is fresh. I dined to-day with the
secretary, who affects mirth, and seems to hope all
will yet be well. I took him aside after dinner, told
him how I had served them, and had asked no re-
ward, but thought I might ask security; and then
desired the same thing of him, to send me abroad
before a change. He embraced me, and swore he
would take the same care of me as himself, &c.; but
bid me have courage, for that in two days my lord-
treasurer's wisdom would appear greater than ever;
that he suffered all that had happened on purpose,
and had taken measures to turn it to advantage. I
said, God send it; but I do not believe a syllable;
and, as far as 1 can judge, the game is lost.
know more soon, and my letters will at least be a
good history to show you the steps of this change.
4
I shall
10. I was this morning with Lewis, who thinks
they will let the parliament sit till they have given
the money, and then dissolve them in spring, and
break the ministry. He spoke to lord-treasurer
about what I desired him. My lord desired him
with great earnestness to assure me that all would
be well, and that I should fear nothing. I dined in
the city with a friend. This day the commons went
to the queen with their address, and all the lords
who were for the peace went with them to show
their zeal. I have now some further conviction that
the queen is false, and it begins to be known.
11. I went between two and three to see Mrs.
Masham; while I was there she went to her bed-
chamber to try a petticoat. Lord-treasurer came in
to see her, and, seeing me in the outer room, fell a
rallying me; says he, "You had better keep com-
me.
12. Ford is come to town; I saw him last night;
he is in no fear, but sanguine, although I have told
him the state of things. This change so resembles
the last that I wonder they do not observe it. The
secretary sent for me yesterday to dine with him,
but I was abroad; I hope he had something to say to
This is morning, and I write in bed. I am
going to the duke of Ormond, whom I have not yet
seen. Morrow, sirrahs. At night.-I was to see
the duke of Ormond this morning: he asked me two
or three questions after his civil way, and they re-
lated to Ireland: at last I told him that from the
time I had seen him I never once thought of Irish
affairs. He whispered me that he hoped I had
done some good things here: I said, if every body else
had done half as much, we should not be as we are:
then we went aside and talked over affairs. I told
him how all things stood, and advised him what was
to be done. I then went and sat an hour with the
duchess; then as long with lady Oglethorp, who is
so cunning a devil, that I believe she could yet find
a remedy, if they would take her advice. I dined
with a friend at court.
13. I was this morning with the secretary; he
will needs pretend to talk as if things would be
well; Will you believe it, said he, if you see these
people turned out? I said, Yes, if I saw the duke and
duchess of Somerset out: he swore, if they were not
he would give up his place. Our society dined to-
day at sir William Wyndham's; we were thirteen
present. Lord Orrery and two other members were
introduced; I left them at seven. I forgot to tell
you that the printer told me yesterday that Mor-
phew, the publisher, was sent for by that lord chief-
justice [lord chief-justice Parker] who was a
manager against Sacheverel; he showed him two or
three papers and pamplets; among the rest mine of
"The Conduct of the Allies;" threatened him, asked
who was the author, and has bound him over to ap-
pear next term. He would not have the impu-
dence to do this if he did not foresee what was
coming at court.
He
14. Lord Shelburne was with me this morning to
be informed of the state of affairs, and desired I
would answer all his objections against a peace,
which was soon done, for he would not give me
room to put in a word. He is a man of good sense
enough, but argues so violently, that he will some
day or other put himself into a consumption.
desires that he may not be denied when he comes to
see me, which I promised, but will not perform.
Leigh and Sterne set out for Ireland on Monday
se'nnight: I suppose they will be with you long be-
fore this. I was to-night drinking very good wine
in scurvy company, at least some of them; I was
}
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
229
drawn in, but will be more cautious for the future;
'tis late, &c.
15. Morning. They say the Occasional Bill is
brought to-day into the house of lords; but I know
not. I will now put an end to my letter, and give it
into the post-house myself. This will be a memo-
rable letter, and I shall sigh to see it some years
hence. Here are the first steps toward the ruin of
an excellent ministry; for I look upon them as cer-
tainly ruined; and God knows what may be the
consequences. I now bid my dearest MD farewell;
for company is coming, and I must be at lord Dart-
mouth's office by noon. Farewell, dearest MD; I
wish you a merry Christmas; I believe you will
have this about that time. Love Presto, who loves
MD above all things a thousand times. Farewell
again, dearest MD, &c.
LETTER THE THIRTY-SEVENTH.
London, Dec. 15, 1711.
I PUT in my letter this evening myself. I was to-
day inquiring at the secretary's office of Mr. Lewis
how things went: I there met Prior, who told me he
gave all for gone, &c., and was of opinion the whole
ministry would give up their places next week:
Lewis thinks they will not till spring, when the ses-
sion is over; both of them entirely despair. I went
to see Mrs. Masham, who invited me to dinner; but
I was engaged to Lewis. At four I went to Masham's.
He came and whispered me that he had it from a
very good hand that all would be well, and I found
them both very cheerful. The company was going
to the opera, but desired I would come and sup with
them. I did so at ten, and lord-treasurer was there,
and sat with us till past twelve, and was more cheer-
ful than I have seen him these ten days. Mrs. Ma-
sham told me he was mightily cast down some days
ago, and he could not indeed hide it from me.
Arbuthnot is in good hopes that the queen has not
betrayed us, but only has been frightened and flat-
tered, &c. But I cannot yet be of his opinion, whe-
ther my reasons are better or that my fears are
greater. I do resolve, if they give up or are turned
out soon, to retire for some months, and I have
pitched upon the place already: but I will take
methods for hearing from MD and writing to them.
But I would be out of the way upon the first of the
ferment; for they lay all things on me, even some I
have never read.
I
16. I took courage to-day, and went to court with
a very cheerful countenance. It was mightily
crowded; both parties coming to observe each other's
faces. I have avoided lord Halifax's bow till he
forced it on me; but we did not talk together.
could not make less than fourscore bows, of which
about twenty might be to Whigs. The duke of
Somerset is gone to Petworth, and I hear the
duchess too, of which I shall be very glad. Prince
Eugene, who was expected here some days ago, we
are now told will not come at all. The Whigs de-
signed to have met him with forty thousand horse.
Lord-treasurer told me some days ago of his dis-
course with the emperor's resident, that puppy
Hoffman, about prince Eugene's coming; by which
I found my lord would hinder it if he could; and we
shall be all glad if he does not come, and think it a
good point gained. Sir Andrew Fountaine, Ford,
and I, dined to-day with Mrs. Van by invitation.
17. I have mistaken the day of the month, and
been forced to mend it thrice. I dined to-day with
Mr. Masham and his lady by invitation. Lord-
treasurer was to be there, but came not. It was to
entertain Buys, the Dutch envoy, who speaks Eng-
lish well enough: he was plaguily politic, telling a
thousand lies, of which none passed upon any of us
We are still in the condition of suspense, and 1
The duchess of Somer-
think have little hopes.
set is not gone to Petworth; only the duke, and
that is a poor sacrifice. I believe the queen cer-
tainly designs to change the ministry, but perhaps
may put it off till the session is over: and I think
they had better give up now, if she will not deal
openly; and then they need not answer for the con-
sequences of a peace, when it is in other hands, and
may yet be broken. They say my lord privy-seal
sets out for Holland this week; so the peace goes on.
18. It has rained hard from morning till night,
We have
and cost me three shillings in coach-hire.
had abundance of wet weather. 1 dined in the city,
and was with the printer, who has now a fifth edition
of the "Conduct," &c.: it is in small, and sold for
sixpence they have printed as many as three edi-
tions, because they are to be sent in numbers into
the country by great men, &c., who subscribe for
hundreds. It has been sent a fortnight ago to Ire-
The Tory
land: I suppose you will print it there.
lords and commons in parliament argue all from it;
and all agree that never anything of that kind was
of so great consequence, or made so many converts.
By the time I have sent this letter I expect to hear
from little MD; it will be a month, two days hence,
since I had your last, and I will allow ten days for
accidents. I cannot get rid of the leavings of a
cold I got a month ago, or else it is a new one. I
have been writing letters all this evening till I am
weary, and I am sending out another little thing,
which I hope to finish this week, and design to send
to the printer in an unknown hand. There was
printed a Grub-street speech of lord Nottingham;
and he was such an owl to complain of it in the
house of lords, who have taken up the printer for it.
I heard at court that Walpole (a great Whig mem-
ber) said that I and my whimsical club writ it at
one of our meetings, and that I should pay for it.
He will find he lies: and I shall let him know by a
third hand my thoughts of him. He is to be secre-
tary of state if the ministry changes; but he has
lately had a bribe proved against him in parliament,
while he was secretary-at-war. He is one of the
Whigs' chief speakers.
19. Sad, dismal weather. I went to the secre-
tary's office, and Lewis made me dine with him. I
intended to have dined with lord-treasurer. I have
I
not seen the secretary this week. Things do not
mend at all. Lord Dartmouth despairs, and is for
giving up; Lewis is of the same mind; but lord-
treasurer only says, "Poh, poh, all will be well."
I am come home early to finish something I am
doing; but I find I want heart and humour; and
would read any idle book that came in my way.
have just sent away a peuny paper to make a little
mischief. Patrick is gone to the burial of an Irish
footman, who was Dr. King's servant; he died of a
consumption, a fit death for a poor starving wit's
footman. The Irish servants always club to bury a
countryman.
20. I was with the secretary this morning, and,
for aught I can see, we shall have a languishing
death I can know nothing, nor themselves neither.
I dined, you know, with our society, and that odious
secretary would make me president next week; so I
must entertain them this day se'ennight at the
Thatched House Tavern, where we dined to-day;
it will cost me five or six pounds; yet the secretary
says he will give me wine. I found a letter when I
came home from the bishop of Clogher.
21. This is the first time I ever got a new cold
230
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
before the old one was going: it came yesterday,,
and appeared in all due forms, eyes and nose run-
ning, &c., and is now very bad; and I cannot tell
how I got it. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I were
invited to dine with Mrs. Van. I was this morning
with the duke of Ormond; and neither he nor I can
think of anything to comfort us in present affairs.
We must certainly fall, if the duchess of Somerset
be not turned out; and nobody believes the queen
will ever part with her. The duke and I were set-
tling when Mr. Secretary and I should dine with
him, and he fixed upon Tuesday; and when I came
away I remembered it was Christmas-day. I was to
see lady who is just up after lying-in; and the
ugliest sight I have seen, pale, dead, old, and yellow,
for want of her paint. She has turned my stomach.
But she will soon be painted, and a beauty again.
22. I find myself disordered with a pain all round
the small of my back, which I imputed to cham-
pagne I had drunk; but find it to have been only
my new cold. It was a fine frosty day, and I re-
solved to walk into the city. I called at lord-trea-
surer's at eleven, and stayed some time with him.—
He showed me a letter from a great presbyterian
parson [Mr. Shower] to him, complaining how their
friends had betrayed them by passing this Conformity
Bill; and he showed me the answer he had written,
which his friends would not let him send; but was
a very good one. He is very cheerful; but gives
one no hopes, nor has any to give. I went into the
city, and there I dined.
23. Morning. As I was dressing to go to church,
a friend that was to see me advised me not to stir
out; so I shall keep at home to-day, and only eat
some broth, if I can get it. It is a terrible cold
frost, and snow fell yesterday, which still remains;
look there, you may see it from the penthouses.
The lords made yesterday two or three votes about
peace, and Hanover, of a very angry kind, to vex
the ministry, and they will meet sooner by a fort-
night than the commons; and, they say, are prepar-
ing some knocking addresses. Morrow, sirrahs. I'll
sit at home, and when I go to bed I will tell you
how I am. I have sat at home all day, and eaten
only a mess of broth and a roll. I have written a
Prophecy," which I design to print; I did it to-
day, and some other verses.
"6
24. I went into the city to-day in a coach, and
dined there. My cold is going. It is now bitter
hard frost, and has been so these three or four days.
My Prophecy [The Windsor Prophecy] is printed,
and will be published after Christmas-day; I like it
mightily; I don't know how it will pass. You will
never understand it at your distance without help.
I believe everybody will guess it to be mine, because
it is somewhat in the same manner with that of
Merlin," in the Miscellanies. My lord privy-seal
set out this day for Holland: he'll have a cold jour-
ney.
I gave Patrick half-a-crown for his Christmas-
box, on condition he would be good, and he came
home drunk at midnight. I have taken a memo-
randum of it, because I never design to give him a
groat more. 'Tis cruel cold.
25. I wish MD a merry Christmas, and many a
one; but mine is melancholy: I durst not go to
church to-day, finding myself a little out of order,
and it snowing prodigiously, and freezing. At noon
I went to Mrs. Van, who had this week engaged me
to dine there to-day: and there I received the news
that poor Mrs. Long died at Lynn in Norfolk on
Saturday last, at four in the morning; she was sick
but four hours. We suppose it was the asthma,
which she was subject to as well as the dropsy, as
she sent me word in her last letter, written about
|
five weeks ago; but then said she was recovered. I
never was more afflicted at any death. The poor
creature had retired to Lynn two years ago, to live
cheap and pay her debts. In her last letter she told
me she hoped to be easy by Christmas; and she
kept her word, although she meant it otherwise.
She had all sorts of amiable qualities, and no ill
ones, but the indiscretion of too much neglecting her
own affairs. She had two thousand pounds left her
by an old grandmother, with which she intended to
pay her debts, and live on an annuity she had of one
hundred pounds a-year, and Newburg-house, which
would be about sixty pounds more. That odious
grandmother living so long forced her to retire; for
the two thousand pounds was settled on her after the
old woman's death, yet her brute of a brother, sir
James Long, would not advance it for her; else she
might have paid her debts, and continued here, and
lived still: I believe melancholy helped her on to
her grave. I have ordered a paragraph to be put in
the Post-Boy, giving an account of her death, and
making honourable mention of her; which is all I
can do to serve her memory: but one reason was
spite; for her brother would fain have her death a
secret, to save the charge of bringing ber up here to
bury her, or going into mourning. Pardon all this,
for the sake of a poor creature I had so much friend-
ship for.
26. I went to Mr. Secretary this morning, and he
would have me dine with him. I called at noon at
Mrs. Masum's, who desired me not to let the
LC
Prophecy" be published, for fear of angering the
queen about the duchess of Somerset; so l writ to
the printer to stop them. They have been printed
and given about, but not sold. I saw lord-treasurer
there, who had been two hours with the queen:
and Mrs. Masham is in hopes things will do well
again. I went at night again, and supped at Mr.
Masham's, and lord-treasurer sat with us till one
o'clock. So 'tis late, &c.
27. I entertained our society at the Thatched
Hodse tavern to-day at dinner; but brother Bathurst
sent for wine, the house affording none. The printer
had not received my letter, and so he brought up
dozens a-piece of the Prophecy; but I ordered him
to part with no more. 'Tis an admirable good one,
and people are mad for it. The frost still continues
violently cold.
violently cold. Mrs. Masham invited me to come to-
night and play at cards; but our society did not part
till nine. But I supped with Mrs. Hill, her sister, and
there was Mrs. Masham and lord-treasurer, and we
stayed till twelve. He is endeavouring to get a majority
against next Wednesday, when the house of lords is
to meet, and the Whigs intend to make some violent
addresses against a peace, if not prevented. God
knows what will become of us. It is still prodigiously
cold; but so I told you already; we have eggs on
the spit, I wish they may not be addle. When I
came home to-night I found, forsooth, a letter from
MD, No. 24, 24, 24, 24; there, do you know the
numbers know? and at the same time one from Joe,
full of thanks: let him know I have received it, and
am glad of his success, but won't put him to the
charge of a letter. I had a letter some time ago from
Mr. Warburton [the doctor's curate at Laracor], and
I beg one of you will copy out what I shall tell you,
and send it by some opportunity to Warburton. 'Tis
as follows: "The doctor has received Mr. Warbur-
ton's letter, and desires he will let the doctor know
where that accident he mentions is like soon to hap-
pen, and he will do what he can in it."-And pray,
madam, let them know, that I do this to save my-
self the trouble, and them the expense of a letter.
And I think this is enough for one that comes home
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
231
at twelve from a lord-treasurer and Mrs. Masham.
O), I could tell you ten thousand things of our mad
politics, upon what small circumstances great affairs
have turned. But I will go rest my busy head,
28. I was this morning with brother Bathurst to see
the duke of Ormond. We have given his grace some
hopes to be one of our society. The secretary and I
and Bathurst are to dine with him on Sunday next.
The duke is not in much hopes, but has been very
busy in endeavouring to bring over some lords against
next Wednesday. The duchess caught me as I was
going out; she is sadly in fear about things, and
blames me for not mending them by my credit with
lord-treasurer; and I blame her. She met me in
the street at noon, and engaged me to dine with her,
which I did; and we talked an hour after dinner in
her closet. If we miscarry on Wednesday, I believe
believe
it will be by some strange sort of neglect. They
talk of making eight new lords, by calling up some
peers' eldest sons; but they delay strangely. I saw
judge Coote to-day at the duke of Ormond's he
desires to come and see me, to justify his principles.
;
think she must have made both herself and kingdom
It is still
very unhappy if she had done otherwise.
a mighty secret that Masham is to be one of the new
lords; they say he does not yet know it himself; but
the queen is to surprise him with it. Mr. Secretary
will be a lord at the end of the session: but they
want him still in parliament. After all, it is a strange
unhappy necessity of making so many peers together;
but the queen has drawn it upon herself by her con-
founded trimming and moderation. Three, as I told
you, are of our society.
I was
30. I writ the dean and you a lie yesterday; for
the duke of Somerset is not yet turned out.
to-day at court, and resolved to be very civil to the
Whigs, but saw few there. When I was in the bed-
chamber talking to lord Rochester, he went up to
lady Burlington, who asked him who I was; and
lady Sunderland and she whispered about me: I
desired lord Rochester to tell lady Sunderland I
doubted she was not as much in love with me as I
was with her; but he would not deliver my message.
The duchess of Shrewsbury came running up to me,
and clapped her fan up to hide us from the company,
and we gave one another joy of this change but
sighed when we reflected on the Somerset family not
being out. The secretary and I, and brother Bath-
urst, and lord Windsor, dined with the duke of Or-
mond. Bathurst and Windsor are to be two of the
29. Morning. This goes to-day. I will not answer
yours, your 24th, till next, which shall begin to-night,
as usual. Lord Shelburne has sent to invite me to
dinner, but I am engaged with Lewis at Ned South-
well's. Lord Northampton and lord Aylesbury's
sons are both made peers; but we shall want more.
I write this post to your dean. I owe the archbishop new lords. I desired my lord Radnor's brother, at
a letter this long time. All people that come from court to-day, to let my lord know I would call on him
Ireland complain of him, and scold me for protecting at six, which I did, and was arguing with him three
hin. Pray, madam Dingley, let me know what hours to bring him over to us, and I spoke so closely
Presto has received for this year, or whether anything that I believe he will be tractable; but he is a
is due to him for last: I cannot look over your for-scoundrel, and though I said I only talked for my
mer letters now. As for Dingley's own account of
her exchequer money, I will give it on t'other side.
Farewell, my own dearest MD, and love Presto ;
and God ever bless dearest MD, &c. &c. I wish
you many happy Christmases and new years.
I have owned to the dean a letter I just had from
you; but that I had not one this great while before.
DINGLEY'S AccouNr.
Received of Mr. Tooke
Deducted for entering the letter of attorney
For the three half-crowns it used to cost you, I don't
know why nor wherelore
For exchange to Ireland
For coacb-hire
£ s. d.
6 17
0
0 7
0 10
6
6
6
0 2 6
In all, just 800
So there's your money, and we are both even: for
I'll pay you no more than that eight pounds Irish,
and pray be satisfied.
Churchwarden's accounts, boys.
Saturday night. I have broke open my letter, and
tore it into the bargain, to let you know that we are
all safe; the queen has made no less than twelve
lords to have a majority; nine new ones, the other
three peers' sons; and has turned out the duke of
Somerset. She is awaked at last, and so is lord-
treasurer: I want nothing now but to see the duchess
out. But we shall do without her. We are all ex-
tremely happy. Give me joy, sirrahs. This is written
in a coffee-house. Three of the new lords are of
our society.
LETTER THE THIRTY-EIGHTH.
London, Dec. 29, 1711.
I rut my letter in this evening, after coming from
dinner at Ned Southwell's, where I drank very good
Irish wine, and we are in great joy at this happy
turn of affairs. The queen has been at last per-
suaded to her own interest and security, and I freely
love to him, I told a lie, for I did not care if he were
hanged: but every one gained over is of consequence.
The duke of Marlborough was at court to-day, and
nobody hardly took notice of him. Masham's being
a lord begins to take wind: nothing at court can be
kept a secret. Wednesday will be a great day: you
shall know more.
31. Our frost is broken since yesterday, and it is
very slabbery; yet I walked to the city and dined,
and ordered some things with the printer. I have
settled Dr. King in the Gazette; it will be worth two
hundred pounds a-year to him. Our new lords'
patents are passed: I don't like the expedient, if we
could have found any other. I see I have said this
before. I hear the duke of Marlborough is turned
out of all his employments: I shall know to-morrow,
when I am to carry Dr. King to dine with the secre-
tary. These are strong remedies; pray God the
patient is able to bear them. The last ministry pec-
ple are utterly desperate.
January 1. Now I wish my dearest little MD many
happy new years; yes, both Dingley and Stella, ay,
and Presto too, many happy new years. I dined
with the secretary, and it is true that the duke of
Marlborough is turned out of all. The duke of Or
mond has got his regiment of foot-guards, I know not
who has the rest. If the ministry be not sure of a
peace, I shall wonder at this step, and do not approve
it at best. The queen and lord-treasurer mortally
hate the duke of Marlborough, and to that he owes
his fall, more than to his other faults: unless he has
been tampering too far with his party, of which I
have not heard any particulars; however it be, the
world abroad will blame us. I confess my belief that
he has not one good quality in the world beside that
of a general, and even that I have heard denied by
several great soldiers. But we have had constant
success in arms while he commanded. Opinion is a
mighty matter in war, and I doubt the French think
it impossible to conquer an army that he leads, and
232
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
our soldiers think the same; and how far even this
step may encourage the French to play tricks with
us, no man knows. I do not love to see personal
resentment mix with public affairs.
2. This being the day the lords meet, and the new
peers to be introduced, I went to Westminster to
see the sight; but the crowd was too great in the
house. So I only went into the robing-room, to give
my four brothers joy, and sir Thomas Mansel, and
lord Windsor; the other six I am not acquainted
with. It was apprehended the Whigs would have
raised some difficulties, but nothing happened. I
went to see lady Masham at noon, and wish her joy
of her new honour, and a happy new year. I found
her very well pleased: for a peerage will be some
sort of protection to her upon any turn of affairs.
She engaged me to come at night, and sup with her
and lord-treasurer. I went at nine, and she was not
at home, so I would not stay.-No, no, I won't an-
swer your letter yet, young women. I dined with a
friend in the neighbourhood. I see nothing here
like Christmas, excepting brawn or mince-pies in
places where I dine, and giving away my half-crowns
like farthings to great men's porters and butlers.
Yesterday I paid seven good guineas to the fellow at
the tavern, where I treated the society. I have a
great mind to send you the bill. I think I told you
some articles. I have not heard whether anything
was done in the house of lords after introducing
the new ones. Ford has been sitting with me till
peeast tweelve a clock.
3. This was our society day; lord Dupplin was
president; we choose every week; the last pre-
sident treats and chooses his successor. I believe
our dinner cost fifteen pounds beside wine. The
secretary grew brisk, and would not let me go, nor
lord Lansdown, who would fain have gone home to
his lady, being newly married to lady Mary Thynne.
It was near one when we parted, so you must think
I can't write much to-night. The adjourning of the
house of lords yesterday, as the queen desired, was
just carried by the twelve new lords, and one more.
Lord Radnor was not there; I hope I have cured
him. Did I tell you that I have brought Dr. King in
to be Gazetteer? It will be worth about two hundred
pounds a-year to him: I believe I told you so before,
but I am forgetful. Go, get you gone to ombre, and
claret, and toasted oranges. I'll go sleep.
♦ I cannot get rid of the leavings of my cold. I
was in the city to-day, and dined with my printer,
and gave him a ballad made by several hands, I
know not whom. I believe lord-treasurer had a
finger in it; I added three stanzas; I suppose Dr.
Arbuthnot had the greatest share. I have been over-
seeing some other little prints, and a pamphlet made
by one of my understrappers. Somerset is not out
jet. I doubt not but you will have the "Prophecy"
in Ireland, although it is not published here, only
printed copies given to friends. Tell me, do you
understand it? No, faith, not without help. Tell me
what you stick at, and I'll explain. We turned out
a member of our society yesterday for gross neglect
and non-attendance. I writ to him by order to give
him notice of it. It is Tom Harley, secretary to the
treasurer, and cousin-german to lord-treasurer. He
is going to Hanover from the queen. I am to give
the duke of Ormond notice of his election as soon as
I can see him.
5. I went this morning with a parishioner of mine,
one Nuttal, who came over here for a legacy of one
hundred pounds, and a roguish lawyer had refused to
pay him, and would not believe he was the man.
writ to the lawyer a sharp letter, that I had taken
Nuttal into my protection, and was, resolved to stand
I
by him, and the next news was, that the lawyer
desired I would meet him, and attest he was the man,
which I did, and his money was paid upon the spot.
I then visited lord-treasurer, who is now right again,
and all well, only that the Somerset family is not out
yet. I hate that; I don't like it, as the man said, by,
&c. Then I went and visited poor Will Congreve,
who had a French fellow tampering with one of his
eyes; he is almost blind of both. I dined with
some merchants in the city, but could not see Strat-
ford, with whom I had business. Presto, leave off
your impertinence, and answer our letter, saith
MD.
MD. Yes, yes, one of these days, when I have
nothing else to do. O, faith, this letter is a week
written, and not one side done yet.-These ugly
spots are not tobacco, but this is the last gilt sheet I
have of large paper, therefore hold your tongue.
Nuttal was surprised when they gave him bits of
paper instead of money, but
money, but I made Ben Tooke put
him in his geers; he could not reckon ten pounds,
but was puzzled with the Irish way. Ben Tooke and
my printer have desired me to make them stationers
to the ordnance, of which lord Rivers is master, in-
stead of the duke of Marlborough. It will be a
hundred pounds a-year a-piece to them, if I can get
it. I will try to-morrow.
6. I went this morning to earl Rivers, gave him
joy of his new employment, and desired him to
prefer my printer and bookseller to be stationers to
his office. He immediately granted it me; but, like
an old courtier, told me it was wholly on my account,
but that he heard I had intended to engage Mr.
Secretary to speak to him, and desired I would
engage him to do so, but that, however, he did it
only for my sake. This is a court trick, to oblige
as many as you can at once. I read prayers to poor
Mrs. Wesley, who is very much out of order, in-
stead of going to church; and then I went to court,
which I found very full, in expectation of seeing
prince Eugene, who landed last night, and lies at
Leicester-house: he was not to see the queen, till six
this evening. I hope and believe he comes too late
to do the Whigs any good. I refused dining with
the secretary, and was like to lose my dinner, which
was at a private acquaintance's. I went at six to see
the prince at court, but he was gone in to the queen ;
and when he came out Mr. Secretary, who intro-
duced him, walked so near him, that he quite screened
me from him with his great periwig. I'll tell you a
good passage: as prince Eugene was going with Mr.
Secretary to court, he told the secretary "that Hoff-
man, the emperor's resident, said to his highness
that it was not proper to go to court without a long
wig, and his was a tied-up one: now, says the prince,
I knew not what to do, for I never had a long peri-
wig in my life; and I have sent to all my valets and
footmen, to see whether any of them have one, that
I might borrow it, but none of them has any.".
Was not this spoken very greatly with some sort of
contempt? But the secretary said it was a thing of
no consequence, and only observed by gentlemen-
ushers. I supped with lord Masham, where lord-
treasurer and Mr. Secretary supped with us: the
first left us at twelve, but the rest did not part till two,
yet I have written all this, because it is fresh; and
now I'll go sleep if I can; that is, I believe I shall
because I have drank a little.
7. I was this morning to give the duke of Ormond
notice of the honour done him to make him one of our
society, and to invite him on Thursday next to the
Thatched-house: he has accepted it with the grati-
tude and humility such a preferment deserves, but
cannot come till the next meeting, because prince
Eugene is to dine with him that day, which I allowed
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
233
!
for a good excuse, and will report accordingly. I
dined with lord Masham, and sat there till eight this
evening, and came home because I was not very well,
but ittle griped; but now I am well again, I will
not go, at least but very seldom, to lord Masham's
suppers. Lord-treasurer is generally there, and that
tempts me; but late sitting up does not agree with
me: there's the short and the long, and I won't do it;
so take your answer, dear little young women; and I
have no more to say to you to-night, because of the
archbishop, for I am going to write a long letter to
him, but not so politicly as formerly: I won't trust
him.
I
8. Well then, come, let us see this letter; if I
must answer it, I must. What's here, now? yes,
faith, I lamented my birthday two days after, that's all :
and you rhyme, madam Stella: were those verses
made upon my birthday? faith, when I read them,
I had them running in my head all the day, and said
them over a thousand times: they drank your health
in all their glasses, and wished, &c. I could not get
them out of my head. What! no, I believe it was
not; what do I say upon the eighth of December?
Compare, and see whether I say so. I am glad of
Mrs. Stoyte's recovery, heartily glad; your Dolly
Manley's and bishop of Cloyne's child I have no
concern about: I am sorry in a civil way, that's all.
Yes, yes, sir George St. George dead.-Go, cry,
madam Dingley; I have written to the dean. Ray-
mond will be rich, for he has the building itch.
wish all he has got may put him out of debt. Poh,
I have fires like lightning; they cost me twelve-
pence a-week, beside small coal. I have got four new
caps, madam, very fine and convenient, with striped
cambric instead of muslin; so Patrick need not
mend them, but take the old ones. Stella snatched
Dingley's word out of her pen; Presto a cold; why,
all the world here is dead with them: I never had
anything like it in my life; 'tis not gone in five
weeks. I hope Leigh is with you before this, and
has brought your box. How do you like the ivory
rasp? Stella is angry; but I'll have a finer thing for
her. Is not the apron as good? I am sure I shall
never be paid it so all's well again.-What, the
quarrel with sir John Walters? Why, we had not
one word of quarrel; only he railed at me when I
was gone, and lord-keeper and treasurer teased me
for a week. It was nuts to them; a serious thing
with a vengeance.-The Whigs may sell their estates
then, or hang themselves, as they are disposed; for
a peace there will be. Lord-treasurer told me that
Conolly was going to Hanover. Your provost is a
coxcomb. Stella is a good girl for not being angry
when I tell her of spelling; I see none wrong in
this. God Almighty be praised that your disorders
lessen; it increases my hopes mightily that they
will go off. And have you been plagued with the
fear of the plague? never mind those reports; I have
heard them five hundred times. Replevi?
Replevi? Replevin,
simpleton; 'tis Dingley I mean; but it is a hard
word, and so I'll excuse it. I stated Dingley's ac-
counts in my last. I forgot Catherine's sevenpenny
dinner. I hope it was the beef-steaks; I'll call and
eat them in spring; but Goody Stoyte must give me
coffee, or green tea, for I drink no bohea. Well, ay,
the pamphlet; but there are some additions to the
fourth edition; the fifth edition was of four thousand,
in a smaller print, sold for sixpence. Yes, I had the
twenty-pound bill from Parvisol: and what then?
Pray now eat the Laracor apples; 1 beg you not to
keep them, but tell me what they are. You have
* Dr. Swift, upon his birthday, used always to read the third
chapter of Job.
had Tooke's bill in my last. And so, there now, your
whole letter is answered. I tell you what I do; I lay
your letter before me, and take it in order, and an-
swer what is necessary; and so and so. Well; when
I expected we were all undone, I designed to retire
for six months, and then steal over to Laracor; and
I had in my mouth a thousand times two lines of
Shakspeare, where cardinal Wolsey says,
A weak old man, batter'd with storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among you.
I beg your pardon; I have cheated you all this margin.
I did not perceive it; and I went on wider and wider
like Stella; awkward sluts, she writes so so, there:
that's as like as two eggs a penny.-4 weak old man:
now I am saying it, and shall till to-morrow. The duke
of Marlborough says there is nothing he now desires
so much as to contrive some way how to soften Dr.
Swift. He is mistaken; for those things that have
been hardest against him were not written by me.
Mr. Secretary told me this from a friend of the duke's;
and I'm sure, now he is down, I shall not trample on
him; although I love him not, I dislike his being
out.-Bernage was to see me this morning, and gave
some very indifferent excuses for not calling here so
long. I care not twopence. Prince Eugene did not
dine with the duke of Marlborough on Sunday, but
was last night at lady Betty Germain's assemblée,
and a vast number of ladies to see him. Mr. Lewis
and I dined with a private friend. I was this morn-
ing to see the duke of Ormond, who appointed me
to meet him at the cockpit at one, but never came. I
sat too some time with the duchess. We don't like
things very well yet. I am come home early, and
I'll
going to be busy. I'll go write.
9. I could not go sleep last night till past two, and
was waked before three by a noise of people endea-
vouring to break open my window. For a while I
would not stir, thinking it might be my imagination;
but hearing the noise continued, I rose and went to
the window, and then it ceased. I went to bed again
and heard it repeated more violently; then I rose
and called up the house, and got a candle: the
rogues had lifted up the sash a yard; there are great
sheds before my windows, although my lodgings be
a story high; and if they get upon the sheds they
are almost even with my window. We observed
their track, and panes of glass fresh broken. The
watchmen told us to-day they saw them, but could
not catch them. They attacked others in the neigh-
bourhood about the same time, and actually robbed
a house in Suffolk-street, which is the next street but
one to us. It is said they are seamen discharged from
service. I went up to call my man, and found his
bed empty; it seems he often lies abroad. I chal-
lenged him this morning as one of the robbers. He
is a sad dog; and the minute I come to Ireland I will
discard him. I have this day got double iron bars to
every window in my dining-room and bed-chamber;
and I hide my purse in my thread stocking between
the bed's head and the wainscoat. Lewis and I dined
with an old Scotch friend, who brought the duke of
Douglas, and three or four more Scots upon us.
10. This was our society day you know; but the
duke of Ormond could not be with us, because he
dined with prince Eugene. It cost me a guinea con-
tribution to a poet who had made a copy of verses
upon monkeys, applying the story to the duke of
Marlborough; the rest gave two guineas, except the
two physicians, who followed my example. I don't
like this custom: the next time I will give nothing.
I sat this evening at lord Masham's with lord-tree-
These words in the manuscript imit te Stella's writing, and
are sloped the wrong way.
234
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
surer: I don't like his countenance; nor I don't
like the posture of things well.
We cannot be stout till Somerset's out:
as the old saying is.
11. Mr. Lewis and I dined with the chancellor of
the exchequer, who eats the most elegantly of any
man I know in town. I walked lustily in the park
by moonshine till eight, to shake off my dinner and
wine; and then went to sup at Mr. Domville's with
Ford, and stayed till twelve. It is told me to-day
as a great secret that the duke of Somerset will be
out soon; that the thing is fixed; but what shall we
do with the duchess! They say the duke will make
her leave the queen out of spite, if he be out. It has
stuck upon that fear a good while already. Well,
but Lewis gave me a letter from MD, No. 25. O
Lord, I did not expect one this fortnight, faith. You
are mighty good, that's certain: but I wont answer
it, because this goes to-morrow, only what you say
of the printer being taken up; I value it not; all's
safe there; nor do I fear anything, unless the minis-
try be changed; I hope that danger is over. How-
ever, I shall be in Ireland before such a change;
which could not be I think till the end of the ses-
sion, if the Whigs' designs had gone on.-Have not
you an apron by Leigh, madam Stella? have you all
I mentioned in a former letter?
I think
12. Morning. This goes to-day as usual.
of going into the city; but of that at night. 'Tis
fine moderate weather these two or three days last.
Farewell, &c. &c.
LETTER THE THIRTY-NINTH.
London, Jan. 12, 1711-12.
WHEN I scaled up my letter this morning I looked
upon myself to be not worth a groat in the world.
Last night, after Mr. Ford and I left Domville, Ford
desired me to go with him for a minute upon earnest
business, and then told me that both he and I were
ruined; for he had trusted Stratford with five hun-
dred pounds for tickets for the lottery, and he had
been with Stratford, who confessed he had lost fif-
teen thousand pounds by sir Stephen Evans, who
broke last week; that he concluded Stratford must
break too; that he could not get his tickets, but
Stratford made him several excuses, which seemed
very blind ones, &c. And Stratford had near four
hundred pounds of mine to buy me five hundred
pounds in the South Sea Company. I came home
reflecting a little; nothing concerned me but MD.
I called all my philosophy and religion up; and
I thank God it did not keep me awake beyond my
usual time above a quarter of an hour. This morn-
ing I sent for Tooke, whom I had employed to buy
the stock of Stratford, and settle things with him.
He told me I was secure; for Stratford had trans-
ferred it to me in form in the South Sea House, and
he had accepted it for me, and all was done on
stamped parchment. However, he would be further
informed; and at night sent me a note to confirm
me. However, I am not yet secure; and, besides,
am in pain for Ford, whom I first brought acquainted
with Stratford. I dined in the city.
13. Domville and I dine with Ford to-day by
appointment; the lord Masel told me at court to-
day that I was engaged to him; but Stratford had
promised Ford to meet him and me to-night at
Ford's lodgings. He did so; said he had hopes to
save himself in his affair with Evans. Ford asked
him for his tickets: he said he would send them to-
morrow; but, looking in his pocket-book, said he
believed he had some of thein about him, and gave
|
him as many as came to two hundred pounds, which
rejoiced us much; besides, he talked so frankly.
that we might think there is no danger. I asked
/ him,
"Was there any more to be settled between us
in my affair?" He said, "No;" and answering my
questions just as Tooke had got them from others
so I hope I am safe. This has been a scurvy affair.
I believe Stella would have laughed at me to see a
suspicious fellow like me overreached. I saw prince
Eugene to-day at court: I don't think him an ugly-
faced fellow, but well enough, and a good shape.
14. The parliament was to sit to-day; and met;
but were adjourned by the queen's directions till
Thursday. She designs to make some important
speech then. She pretended illness; but I believe
they were not ready, and they expect some opposi-
tion: and the Scotch lords are angry, and must be
pacified. I was this morning to invite the duke of
Ormond to our society on Thursday, where he is
then to be introduced. He has appointed me at
twelve to-morrow about some business: I would
fain have his help to impeach a certain lord: but I
doubt we shall make nothing of it. I intended to
have dined with lord-treasurer, but I was told he
would be busy: so I dined with Mrs. Van; and at
Lord-trea-
night I sat with lord Masham till one.
surer was there, and chid me for not dining with
him; he was in very good humour: I brought home
two flasks of burgundy in my chair: I wish MD
had them. You see it is very late; so I'll go to bed
and bid MD good night.
15. This morning I presented my printer and
bookseller to lord Rivers, to be stationers to the
ordnance: stationers, that's the word, I did not
write it plain at first. I believe it will be worth
three hundred pounds a-year between them. This
is the third employment I have got for them. Rivers
told them the doctor commanded him, and he durst
not refuse it. I would have diued with lord-trea-
surer to-day again, but lord Mansel would not let
me, and forced me home with him. I was very deep
with the duke of Ormond to-day at the cockpit,
where we met to be private; but I doubt I cannot
do the mischief I intended. My friend Penn came
there. Will Penn the Quaker, at the head of his
brethren, to thank the duke for his kindness to their
people in Ireland. To see a dozen scoundrels with
their hats on, and the duke complimenting them
with his off, was a good sight enough. I sat this
evening with sir William Robinson, who has mighty
often invited me to a bottle of wine: and it is past
twelve.
16. This being fast-day, Dr. Freind and I went
into the city to dine late, like good fasters. My
printer and bookseller want me to hook in another
employment for them in the Tower, because it was
enjoyed before by a stationer, although it be to serve
the ordnance with oil, tallow, &c., and is worth four
hundred pounds per annum more: I will try what I
can do. They are resolved to ask several other
employments of the same nature to other offices;
and I will then grease fat sows, and see whether it
be possible to satisfy them. Why am not I a sta-
tioner? The parliament sits to-morrow, and Walpole,
late secretary-at-war, is to be swinged for bribery,
and the queen is to communicate something of great
importance to the two houses, at least they say so.
But I must think of answering your letter in a day
or two.
1
17. I went this morning to the duke of Ormond
about some business, and he told me he could not
dine with us to-day, being to dine with prince
Eugene, Those of our society of the house of
},
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
235
commons could not be with us, the house sitting
late on Walpole. I left them at nine, and they were
not come. We kept some dinner for them. I hope
Walpole will be sent to the Tower, and expelled the
house; but this afternoon the members I spoke with
in the court of requests talked dubiously of it. It
will be a leading card to maul the duke of Marl-
borough for the same crime, or at least to censure
him.
The queen's message was only to give them
notice of the peace she is treating, and to desire they
will make some law to prevent libels against the
government; so farewell to Grub-strect.
18. I heard to-day that the commoners of our
society did not leave the parliament till eleven at
night, then went to those I left and stayed till three
in the morning. Walpole is expelled and sent to
the Tower. I was this morning again with lord
Rivers, and have made him give the other employ-
ment to my printer and bookseller; 'tis worth a
great deal. I dined with
I dined with my friend Lewis privately
to talk over affairs. We want to have this duke of
We want to have this duke of
Somerset out, and he apprehends it will not be, but
I hope better. They are going now at last to change
the commissioners of the customs: my friend sir
Matthew Dudley will be out, and three more, and
Prior will be in. I have made Ford copy out a
small pamphlet and send it to the press, that I might
not be known for author; 'tis "A Letter to the
October Club," if ever you heard of such a thing.
Methinks this letter goes on but slowly for almost a
week; I want some little conversation with MD,
and to know what they are doing just now.
sick of politics. I have not dined with lord-treasurer
these three weeks: he chides me, but I don't care:
I don't.
I am
I
19. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer; this is
his day of choice company, where they sometimes
admit me, but pretend to grumble. And to-day they
met on some extraordinary business: the keeper,
steward, both secretaries, lord Rivers, and lord
Anglesey: I left them at seven and came away,
and
have been writing to the bishop of Clogher.
forgot to know where to direct to him since sir
George St. George's death, but I have directed to
the same house: you must tell me better, for the
letter is sent by the bellman. Don't write to me
again till this is gone, I charge you, for I won't
answer two letters together. The duke of Somerset
is out, and was with his yellow liveries at parliament
to-day. You know he had the same with the queen
when he was master of the horse: we hope the
duchess will follow, or that he will take her away
spite. Lord-treasurer I hope has now saved his
head. Has the dean received my letter? ask him
at cards to-night.
in
20. There was a world of people to-day at court
to see prince Eugene, but all bit, for he did not
come. I saw the duchess of Somerset talking with
the duke of Buckingham; she looked a little down,
but was extremely courteous, The queen has the
gout, but is not in much pain. Must I fill this line
too?a well then, so let it be. The duke of Beaufort
has a mighty mind to come into our society; shall
we let him? I spoke to the duke of Ormond about
ut, and he doubts a little whether to let him in or no.
They say the duke of Somerset is advised by his
friends to let his wife stay with the queen; I am
sorry for it. I dined with the secretary to-day with
mixed company; I don't love it. Our society does
not meet till Friday, because Thursday will be a
busy day in the house of commons, for then the
duke of Marlborough's bribery is to be examined
It is the last of the page, and written close to the edge of
the paper.
into about the pension paid him by those that
furnished bread to the army.
21. I have been five times with the duke of Ormond
about a perfect trifle, and he forgets it: I used him
like a dog this morning for it. I was asked to-day
by several in the court of requests whether it was
true that the author of the Examiner was taken
up in an action of twenty thousand pounds by the
duke of Marlborough? I dined in the city, where
my printer showed me a pamphlet, called Advice
to the October Club,' which he said was sent him
by an unknown hand: I commended it mightily;
he never suspected me; 'tis a twopenny pamphlet.
I came home and got timely to bed; but about
eleven one of the secretary's servants came to me to
let me know that lord-treasurer would immediately
speak to me at lord Masham's upon earnest business;
and that, if I was a-bed, I should rise and come.
did so; lord-treasurer was above with the queen;
and when he came down he laughed, and said it was
not he that sent for me: the business was of no great
importance, only to give me a paper, which might
have been done to-morrow. I stayed with them till
past one, and then got to bed again. Pize take their
frolics. I thought to have answered your letter.
I
22. Dr. Gastrel was to see me this morning; he
is an eminent divine, one of the canons of Christ
Church, and one I love very well: he said he was
glad to find I was not with James Broad. I asked
what he meant: Why," says he, "have you not
seen the Grub-street paper that says Dr. Swift was
taken up as author of the 'Examiner,' on an action
of twenty thousand pounds, and was now at James
Broad's?" who, I suppose, is some bailiff. I knew
of this; but at the court of requests twenty people
told me they heard I had been taken up. Lord
Lansdown observed to the secretary and me that the
Whigs spread three lies yesterday; that about me;
and another, that Macartney, who was turned out
last summer, is again restored to his places in the
army and the third, that Jack Hill's commission
for lieutenant of the Tower is stopped, and that
Cadogan is to continue. Lansdown thinks they
have some design by these reports; I cannot guess
Did I tell you that Sacheverel has desired
mightily to come and see me? but I have put it off:
he has heard that I have spoken to the secretary in
behalf of a brother whom he maintains, and who de-
sires an employment. Tother day at the court of
requests, Dr. Yalden saluted me by name: Sache-
verel, who was just by, came up to me, and made
me many acknowledgments and compliments. Last
night I desired lord-treasurer to do something for
that brother of Sacheverel's: he said he never knew
he had a brother, but thanked me for telling him,
and immediately put his name in his table-book. I
will let Sacheverel know this, that he may take his
measures accordingly; but he shall be none of my
acquaintance. I dined to-day privately with the
secretary, left him at six, paid a visit or two, and
came home.
it.
23. I dined again to-day with the secretary, but
could not despatch some business I had with him,
he has so much besides upon his hands at this junc-
ture, and preparing against the great business to-
morrow, which we are top-full of. The ministers'
design is, that the duke of Marlborough shall be
censured as gently as possible, provided his friends
will not make head to defend him, but if they do it
may end in some severer votes. A gentleman who
was just now with him tells me he is much cast
down and fallen away; but he is positive, if he has
but ten friends in the house, that they shall defend
him to the utmost, and endeavour to prevent the
236
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
least censure upon him, which I think cannot be,
since the bribery is manifest. Sir Solomon Medina
paid him six thousand pounds a-year to have the
employment of providing bread for the army, and
the duke owns it in his letter to the commissioners
of accounts. I was to-night at lord Masham's;
lord Dupplin took out my new little pamphlet, and
the secretary read a great deal of it to lord-treasurer :
they all commended it to the skies, and so did I ; and
they began a health to the author. But I doubt
lord-treasurer suspected, for he said, "This is Dr.
Davenant's style," which is his cant when he sus-
pects me. But I carried the matter very well.
Lord-treasurer put the pamphlet in his pocket to
read at home. I'll answer your letter to-morrow.
I
24. The secretary made me promise to dine with
him to-day after the parliament was up; I said I
would come; but I dined at my usual time, know-
ing the house would sit late on this great affair.
dined at a tavern with Mr. Domville and another
gentleman; I have not done so before these many
mcnths. At ten this evening I went to the secretary,
but he was not come home. I sat with his lady till
twelve, then came away; and he just came as I was
gone, and he sent to my lodgings, but I would not
go back; and so I know not how things have passed,
but hope all is well; and I will tell you to-morrow
day. It is late, &c.
The
Is
split my journals in half; I will write but once a
fortnight: but you may do as you will; which is,
read only half at once, and t'other half next week.
So now your letter is answered. (Pox on these
blote!) What must I say more? I will set out in
March, if there be a fit of fine weather; unless the
ministry desire me to stay till the end of the session,
which may be a month longer: but I believe they
will not; for I suppose the peace will be made, and
they will have no further service for me. I must
make my canal fine this summer-as fine as I can.
I am afraid I shall see great neglects among my
quicksets. I hope the cherry-trees on the river-
walk are fine things now. But no more of this.
25. The secretary sent to me this morning to
morning to
know whether we should dine together; I went to
him, and there I learned that the question went
against the duke of Marlborough by a majority of a
hundred; so the ministry is mighty well satisfied,
and the duke will now be able to do no hurt.
secretary and I, and lord Masham, &c., dined with
lieutenant-general Withers, who is just going to look
after the army in Flanders: the secretary and I left
them a little after seven, and I am come home, and
will now answer your letter, because this goes to-
morrow let me see- The box at Chester; O,
O,
burn that box, and hang that Sterne; I have desired
one to inquire for it who went toward Ireland last
Monday, but I am in utter despair of it. No, I was
not splenetic; you see what plunges the court has
been at to set all right again. And that duchess is
not out yet, and may one day cause more mischief.
Somerset shows all about a letter from the queen,
desiring him to let his wife continue with her.
not that rare! I find Dingley smelled a rat; because
the Whigs are upish; but if ever I hear that word
again I'll uppish you. I am glad you got your rasp
safe and sound; does Stella like her apron? Your
critics about guarantees of succession are puppies;
that's an answer to the objection. The answerers
here made the same objection, but it is wholly wrong.
I am of your opinion, that lord Marlborough is used
too hardly: I have often scratched out passages from
papers and pamphlets sent me before they were
printed, because I thought them too severe. But
he is certainly a vile man, and has no sort of merit
beside the military. The Examiners are good for
little; I would fain have hindered the severity of
the two or three last, but could not. I will either
bring your papers over or leave them with Tooke, |
for whose honesty I will engage. And I think it is
best not to venture them with me at sea. Stella is
a prophet, by foretelling so very positively that all
would be well. Duke of Ormond speak against
peace? No, simpleton, he is one of the stanchest we
have for the ministry. Neither trouble yourself
Neither trouble yourself
about the printer: he appeared the first day of term,
and is to appear when summoned again; but no-
thing else will come of it. Lord chief-justice is
cooled since this new settlement. No; I will not
26. I forgot to finish this letter this morning, and
am come home so late I must give it to the bellman
but I would have it go to-night, lest you should
think there is anything in the story of my being ar-
rested in an action of twenty-thousand pounds by
lord Marlborough, which I hear is in Dyer's letter,
and consequently, I suppose, gone to Ireland. Fare-
well, dearest MD, &c. &c.
LETTER THE FORTIETH.
London, Jan. 26, 1711-12.
I HAVE no gilt paper left of this size, so you must be
content with plain. Our society dined together to-
day, for it was put off, as I told you, upon lord
Marlborough's business on Thursday. The duke of
Ormond dined with us to-day, the first time; we
were thirteen at table; and lord Lansdown came in
after dinner, so that we wanted but three. The
secretary proposed the duke of Beaufort, who de-
sires to be one of our society; but I stopped it,
because the duke of Ormond doubts a little about it,
and he was gone before it was proposed. I left
them at seven, and sat this evening with poor Mrs.
Wesley, who has been mightily ill to-day with a
fainting fit; she has often convulsions too; she
takes a mixture with assafoetida, which I have now
in my nose; and everything smells of it. I never
smelt it before; 'tis abominable. We have eight
packets, they say, due from Ireland.
27. I could not see prince Eugene at court to-day,
the crowd was so great. The Whigs contrive to
have a crowd always about him, and employ the
rabble to give the word when he sets out from any
place. When the duchess of Hamilton came from
the queen after church, she whispered me that she
was going to pay me a visit: I went to lady Ogle-
thorp's, the place appointed; for ladies always visit
me in third places, and she kept me till near four :
she talks too much, is a plaguy detractor, and I be-
lieve I shall not much like her. I was engaged to
dine with lord Mashanı; they stayed as long as they
could, yet had almost dined, and were going in anger
to pull down the brass peg for my hat, but lady
Masham saved it. At eight I went again to lord
Masham's; lord-treasurer is generally there at
night: we sat up till almost two. Lord-treasurer
has engaged me to contrive some way to keep the
archbishop of York from being seduced by lord Not-
tingham. I will do what I can in it to-morrow. 'Tis
very late, so I must go sleep.
28. Poor Mrs. Manley, the author, is very ill of a
dropsy and sore leg; the printer tells me he is afraid
she cannot live long. I am heartily sorry for her;
she has very generous principles for one of her sort,
and a great deal of good sense and invention: she is
about forty, very homely, and very fat. Mrs. Van
made me dine with her to-day. I was this morning
with the duke of Ormond, and the prolocutor, about
what lord-treasurer spoke to me "esterday: I know
#
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
237
[
not what will be the issue. There is but a slender
majority in the house of lords; and we want more.
We are sadly mortified at the news of the French
taking the town in Brazil from the Portuguese. The
sixth edition of three thousand of "The Conduct of
the Allies' is sold, and the printer talks of a seventh:
eleven thousand of them have been sold, which is a
prodigious run. The little twopenny
Letter of
Advice to the October Club" does not sell; I know
not the reason; for it is finely written I assure you;
and, like a true author, I grow fond of it because it
does not sell you know that is usual to writers to
condemn the judgment of the world. If I had hint-place. Lord-treasurer sent to him about it.
though the Scotch lords went out, and would vote
neither way, in discontent about duke Hamilton's
patent, if you know anything of it. A poem is come
out to-day, inscribed to me, by way of a flirt; for it
is a whiggish poem, and good for nothing. They
plagued me with it in the court of requests. I dined
with lord-treasurer at five alone, only with one
Dutchman. Prior is now a commissioner of the
When
I told you so before, I suppose.
customs.
ed it to be mine everybody would have bought it;
but it is a great secret.
29. I borrowed one or two idle books of "Contes
des Fées" (Tales of the Fairies), and have been read-
ing them these two days, although I have much busi-
I loitered till one at home;
ness upon my hands.
then went to Mr. Lewis at his office; and the vice-
chamberlain told me that lady Ryalton had yesterday
resigned her employment of lady of the bedchamber,
and that lady Jane Hyde, lord Rochester's daughter,
a mighty pretty girl, is to succeed. He said, too,
that lady Sunderland would resign in a day or two.
I dined with Lewis, and then went to see Mrs.
Wesley, who is better to-day. But you must know
that Mr. Lewis gave me two letters, one from the
bishop of Cloyne, with an enclosed from lord Inche-
quin to lord-treasurer, which he desires I would
deliver and recommend I am told that lord was
much in with lord Wharton, and I remember he was
to have been one of the lords-justices by his recom-
mendation; yet the bishop recommends him as a
great friend to the church, &c. I'll do what I think
T'other letter was from little saucy MD,
No. 26. O Lord, never saw the like, under a cover
100, and by way of journal; we shall never have
done. Sirrahs; how durst you write
write so soon,
sirrahs? I won't answer it yet.
proper.
30. I was this morning with the secretary, who
was sick and out of humour; he would needs drink
champagne some days ago, on purpose to spite me,
because I advised him against it, and now he pays
for it; Stella used to do such tricks formerly; he
put me in mind of her. Lady Sunderland has re-
signed her place too. It is lady Catherine Hyde
that succeeds lady Ryalton, and not lady Jane. Lady
Catherine is the late earl of Rochester's daughter.
I dined with the secretary, then visited his lady;
and sat this evening with lady Masham; the secre-
tary came to us, but lord-treasurer did not: he
dined with the master of the rolls, and stayed late
with him. Our society does not meet till to-morrow
se'nnight, because we think the parliament will be
very busy to-morrow upon the state of the war; and
the secretary, who is to treat as president, must be
in the house. I fancy my talking of persons and
things here must be very tedious to you, because
you know nothing of them, and I talk as if
you
did.
You know Kevin's-street, and Werburgh-street, and
(what do you call the street where Mrs. Walls lives?)
and Ingoldsby, and Higgins, and lord Santry; but
what care you for lady Catherine Hyde? Why do
you say nothing of your health, sirrah? I hope it is
well.
31. Trimnel, bishop of Norwich, who was with
this lord Sunderland at Moor-park in their travels,
preached yesterday before the house of lords; and
to-day the question was put to thank him, and print,
his sermon; but passed against him, for it was a
terrible Whig sermon. The bill to repeal the act
for naturalising Protestant foreigners passed the
house of lords to-day by a majority of twenty,
I came home to-night I found a letter from Dr.
Sacheverel, thanking me for recommending his
brother to lord-treasurer and Mr. Secretary for
So
good a solicitor was I, although I once hardly thought
I should be a solicitor for Sacheverel.
February 1. Has not your dean of St. Patrick re-
ceived my letter? you say nothing of it, although I
writ above a month ago. My printer has got the
gout, and I was forced to go to him to-day, and there
I dined. It was a most delicious day: why don't
you observe whether the same days be fine with
you? To-night, at six, Dr. Atterbury, and Prior, and
I, and Dr. Freind, met at Dr. Robert Freind's house at
Westminster, who is master of the school: there we
sat till one, and were good enough company. I here
take leave to tell politic Dingley that the passage in
the "Conduct of the Allies" is so far from being
blamable, that the secretary designs to insist upon
it in the house of commons, when the treaty of
Barrier is debated there, as it now shortly will, for
they have ordered it to be laid before them. The
pamphlet of "Advice to the October Club" begins
now to sell; but I believe its fame will hardly
reach Ireland: 'tis finely written, I assure you. I
long to answer your letter, but won't yet; you know
'tis late, &c.
2. This ends Christmas, and what care I? I have
neither seen, nor felt, nor heard any Christmas this
year. I passed a lazy dull day. I was this morning
with lord-treasurer, to get some papers from him,
which he will remember as much as a cat, although
it be his own business. It threatened rain, but did
not much; and Prior and I walked an hour in the
Park, which quite put me out of my measures.
I
dined with a friend hard by; and in the evening
sat with lord Masham till twelve. Lord-treasurer
did not come; this is an idle dining day usually
with him. We want to hear from Holland how our
peace goes on, for we are afraid of those scoundrels
the Dutch, lest they should play us tricks. Lord
Marr, a Scotch earl, was with us at lord Masham's:
I was arguing with him about the stubbornness and
folly of his country men; they are so angry about the
affair of duke Hamilton, whom the queen has made
a duke of England, and the house of lords will not
admit him. He swears he would vote for us, but
dare not, because all Scotland would detest him if
he did he should never be chosen again, nor be
able to live there.
3. I was at court to-day to look for a dinner, but
did not like any that were offered me; and I dined
with lord Mountjoy. The queen has the gout in
her knee, and was not at chapel. I hear we have a
Dutch mail, but I know not what news, although I
was with the secretary this morning. He showed
me a letter from the Hanover envoy, Mr. Bothmar,
complaining that the Barrier treaty is laid before the
house of commons; and desiring that no infringe-
ment may be made in the guarantee of the succes-
sion; but the secretary has written him a peppering
answer. I fancy you understand all this, and are
able states girls, since you have read the "Conduct
of the Allies.' We are all preparing against the
birthday; I think it is Wednesday next. If the
238
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
queen's gout increases it will spoil sport. Prince
Eugene has two fine suits made against it; and the
queen is to give him a sword worth four thousand
pounds, the diamonds set transparent.
4. I was this morning soliciting at the house of
commons' door for Mr. Vesey, a son of the arch-
bishop of Tuam, who has petitioned for a bill to re-
lieve him in some difficulty about his estate ; I
secured him above fifty members. I dined with
lady Masham. We have no packet from Holland,
as I was told yesterday: and this wind will hinder
many people from appearing at the birthday who
expected clothes from Holland. I appointed to
meet a gentleman at the secretary's to-night, and
they both failed. The house of commons have this
day made many severe votes about our being abused
by our allies. Those who spoke drew all their ar-
guments from my book, and their votes confirm all
I writ; the court had a majority of a hundred and
fifty: all agree that it was my book that spirited
them to these resolutions; I long to see them in
print. My head has not been as well as I could wish
it for some days past, but I have not had any giddy
fit, and I hope it will go over.
posed the duke of Beaufort; but I believe he will
be chosen in spite of me: I don't much care; I
shall not be with them above two months
for 1
resolve to set out for Ireland the beginning of
April next (before I treat them again), and see my
willows.
8. I dined to-day in the city: this morning a
scoundrel dog, one of the queen's music, a German,
whom I had never seen, got access to me in my
chamber by Patrick's folly, and gravely desired me
to get an employment in the customs for a friend of
his, who would be very grateful; and likewise to
forward a project of his own for raising ten thousand
pounds a-year upon operas. I used him civiler
than he deserved, but it vexed me to the pluck. He
was told I had a mighty interest with lord-treasurer,
and one word of mine, &c.-Well, I got home early
on purpose to answer MD's letter, No. 26, for this
goes to-morrow.-Well, I never saw such a letter in
my life; so saucy, so journalish, so sanguine, so
pretending, so everything. I satisfied all your fears
in my last; all is gone well, as you say, yet you
are an impudent slut to be so positive; you will
swagger so upon your sagacity, that we shall never
have done. Pray don't mislay your reply; I
would certainly print it if I had it here: how long
is it? I suppose half a sheet: was the answer
written in Ireland? Yes, yes, you shall have a
letter when you come from Baligall. I need not
tell you again who's out and who's in: we can
never get out the duchess of Somerset.-So, they.
say Presto writ the Conduct [of the Allies], &c.
Do they like it? I don't care whether they do or
5. The secretary turned me out of his room this
morning, and showed me fifty guineas rolled up,
which he was going to give some French spy. I
dined with four Irishmen at a tavern to-day; I
thought I had resolved against it before, but I broke
it. I played at cards this evening at lady Masham's,
but I only played for her while she was waiting;
and I won her a pool, and supped there. Lord-
treasurer was with us, but went away before twelve.
The ladies and lords have all their clothes ready,no; but the resolutions printed t'other day in the
against to-morrow: I saw several mighty fine, and
I hope there will be a great appearance, in spite of
that spiteful French fashion of the whiggish ladies
not to come, which they have all resolved to a woman;
and I hope it will more spirit the queen against them
for ever.
6. I went to dine at lord Masham's at three, and
met all the company just coming out of court; a
mighty crowd: they stayed long for their coaches:
I had an opportunity of seeing several lords and
ladies of my acquaintance in their fineries. Lady
Ashburnham looked the best in my eyes. They
say the court was never fuller nor finer. Lord-trea-
surer, his lady, and two daughters, and Mrs. Hill,
dined with lord and lady Masham; the five ladies
were monstrous fine. The queen gave prince Eugene
the diamond sword to-day; but nobody was by when
she gave it except my lord-chamberlain. There was
an entertainment of opera-songs at night, and the
queen was at all the entertainment, and is very well
after it. I saw lady Wharton, as ugly as the devil,
coming out in the crowd all in an undress; she has
been with the Marlborough daughters and lady
Bridgewater in St. James's, looking out of the
window all undressed to see the sight. I do not
hear that one Whig lady was there, except those of
the bedchamber. Nothing has made so great a
noise as one Kelson's chariot, that cost nine hun-
dred and thirty pounds, the finest was ever seen.
The rabble huzzaed him as much as they did prince
Eugene. This is birthday chat.
7. Our society met to-day; the duke of Ormond
was not with us; we have lessened our dinners,
which were grown so extravagant that lord-treasurer
and everybody else cried shame. I left them at
seven, visited for an hour, and then came home,
like a good boy. The queen is much better after
yesterday's exercise: her friends wish she would
use a little more. I opposed lord Jersey's election
into our society, and he is refused: I likewise op
I
It
`votes are almost quotations from it, and would never
have passed if that book had not been written.
will not meddle with the Spectator, let him fair-sex
it to the world's end. My disorder is over, but
blood was not from the piles.-Well, madam Dingley,
the frost; why, we had a great frost, but I forget
how long ago; it lasted above a week or ten days:
I believe about six weeks ago; but it did not break
so soon with us I think as December 29; yet I think
it was about that time on second thoughts. MD can
have no letter from Presto, says you; and yet four
days before you own you had my 37th, unreasonable
sluts! The bishop of Gloucester is not dead, and
I am as likely to succeed the duke of Marlborough
as him if he were: there's enough for that now.
is not unlikely that the duke of Shrewsbury will be
your governor; at least I believe the duke of Ormond
will not return.-Well, Stella again: why, really
three editions of the Conduct, &c., is very much for
Ireland; it is a sign you have some honest among
you. Well; I will do Mr. Manley all the service I
can; but he will ruin himself. What business had
he to engage at all about the city? can't he wish his
cause well, and be quict, when be finds that stirring
will do it no good, and himself a great deal of hurt;
I cannot imagine who should open my letter: it
must be done at your side.-If I hear of any thoughts
of turning out Mr. Manley, I will endeavour to pre-
vent it. I have already had all the gentlemen of Ire-
land here upon my back often for defending him. So
now I have answered your saucy letter. My humble
service to Goody Stoyte and Catherine; I will come
soon for my dinner.
9. Morning. My cold goes off at last; but I
think I have got a small new one. I have no news
since last. They say we hear by the way of Calais
that peace is very near concluding. I hope it may
be true. I'll go and seal up my letter, and give it
myself to-night into the post-office; and so I bid
my dearest MD farewell till to-night. I heartily
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
239
wish myself with them, as hope saved. My willows,
and quicksets, and trees, will be finely improved, I
hope, this year. It has been fine hard frosty weather
yesterday and to-day. Farewell, &c. &c. &c.
LETTER THE FORTY-FIRST.
London, Feb. 9, 1711-12.
and will speak to Ned Southwell about what he
desires me. You say nothing of your dean's re-
ceiving my letter.
I find Clements, whom I recommended to lord
Angleseya last year, at Wall's desire, or rather the
bishop of Clogher's, is mightily in lord Anglesey's
favour. You
I
You may tell the bishop and Walls so.
said to lord Anglesey that I was glad I had the good
luck to recommend him, &c.
WHEN my letter is gone, and I have none of yours
to answer, my conscience is so clear, and my shoul- I dined in the city with my printer, to consult
ders so light, and I go on with such courage to prate with him about some papers lord-treasurer gave me
upon nothing to dear charming MD, you would last night, as he always does, too late. However, I
wonder. I dined to-day with sir Matthew Dudley, will do something with them. My third cold is a
who is newly turned out of commission of the cus- little better; I never had anything like it before;
toms. He affects a good heart, and talks in the ex- three colds successively; I hope I shall have the
tremity of Whiggery, which was always his prin- fourth.
always his prin- fourth. Three messengers come from Holland to-
ciple, though he was gentle a little while he kept in day, and they brought over the six packets that
employment. We can get no packets from Holland. were due. I know not the particulars yet; for
I have not been with any of the ministry these two when I was with the secretary at noon they were
or three days. I keep out of their way on purpose, just opening. But one thing I find, the Dutch are
for a certain reason, for some time, though I must playing us tricks and tampering with the French;
dine with the secretary to-morrow, the choosing of they are dogs: I shall know more.
the company being left to me. I have engaged ford
Anglesey and lord Carteret, and have promised to
get three more; but I have a mind that none else
should be admitted. However, if I like anybody at
court to-morrow, I may perhaps invite them. I
have got another cold, but not very bad.
10. I saw prince Eugene at court to-day very
plain. He is plaguy yellow, and literally ugly be-
sides. The court was very full, and people had
their birthday clothes. I was to have invited five;
but I only invited two, lord Anglesey and lord
Carteret. Pshaw! I told you this but yesterday.
We have no packets from Holland yet. Here are a
parcel of drunken Whiggish lords, like your lord
Santry, who come into chocolate-houses, and rail
aloud at the Tories, and have challenges sent them,
and the next morning come and beg pardon. Ge-
neral Ross was like to swinge the marquis of Win-
chester for this trick the other day; and we have
nothing else now to talk of till the parliament has
had another bout with "the state of the war," as
they intend in a few days. They have ordered the
Barrier treaty to be laid before them; and it was
talked some time ago, as if there was a design to
impeach lord Townshend, who made it.
I have no
more politics now. Night, dear MD.
II. I dined with lord Anglesey to-day, who had
seven Irishmen to be my companions, of which two
only were coxcombs. One I did not know, and the
other was young Bligh, who is a puppy of figure
here, with a fine chariot. He asked me one day at
court, when I had just been talking with some lords
who stood near me, "Doctor, when shall we see
you in the county of Meath?" I whispered him
"to take care what he said, for the people would
think he was some barbarian." He never would
speak to me since till we met to-day. I went to
lady Masham's to-night, and sat with lord-treasurer
and the secretary there till past two o'clock; and
when I came home found some letters from Ireland,
which I read, but can say nothing of them till to-
morrow, it is so very late; but I must always be,
late or early, MD's, &c.
b
12. One letter was from the bishop of Clogher
last night, and the other from Walls, about Mrs.
South's salary, and his own pension of eighteen
pounds for his tithes of the park. I will do nothing
in either. The first I cannot serve in, and the other
is a trifle; only you may tell him I had his letter,
↑ Archdeacon Walls, rector of Castleknock,
Widow of Mr. South, a commissioner of the revenue in
Ireland, and one of the rangers of the Phoenix-park.
|
13. I dined to-day privately with my friend Lewis,
at his lodgings, to consult about some observations
on the Barrier Treaty. Our news from Holland is
not good The French raise difficulties, and make
such offers to the allies as cannot be accepted; and
the Dutch are uneasy that we are likely to get any-
thing for ourselves; and the Whigs are glad at all
this. I came home early, and have been very busy
three or four hours. I had a letter from Dr. Pratt
to-day by a private hand, recommending the bearer
to me for something I shall not trouble myself about.
Wesley writ to recommend the same fellow to me.
His expression is, that, hearing I am acquainted
with my lord-treasurer, he desires I would do so
and so
A matter of nothing. What puppies are
mankind! I hope I shall be wiser when I have
once done with courts. I think you have not
troubled me much with your recommendations. I
would do you all the service I could. Pray, have
you got your apron, Mrs. Ppt? I paid for it but
yesterday that puts me in mind of it. I writ an
inventory of what things I sent by Leigh in one of
my letters.
Did you compare it with what you
got? I hear nothing of your cards now: do
never play? Yes, at Baligacoll. Go to bed. Night,
dearest MD.
;
you
14. Our society dined to-day at Mr. Secretary's
house. I went there at four; but hearing the house
of commons would sit late upon the Barrier Treaty,
I went for an hour to Kensington to
see lord
Masham's children. My young nephew, his son, of
six months old, has got a swelling in his neck. I
fear it is the evil. We did not go to dinner till eight
at night, and I left them at ten. The commons
have been very severe on the Barrier Treaty, as you
will find by their votes. A Whig member took out
the "Conduct of the Allies," and read the passage
about the succession with great resentment; but none
seconded him. The church party carried every vote
by a great
by a great majority. The archbishop of Dublin is
so railed at by all who come from Ireland, that I
can defend him no longer. Lord Anglesey assured
me that the story of applying Piso out of Tacitus to
lord-treasurer being wounded is true. I believe the
duke of Beaufort will be admitted to our society
next meeting. To-day I published the "Fable of
Midas," a poem, printed in a loose half-sheet of
paper. I know not how it will take, but it passed
wonderfully at our society to-night; and Mr. Secre-
a Secretary of state for Ireland.
Lord Masham was one of the sixteen brothers; which ac
counts for Swift's calling his son nephew.
?
240
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
tary read it before me the other night to lord-trea-
surer at lord Masham's, where they equally ap-
proved of it. Tell me how it passes with you. I
think this paper is larger than ordinary; for here
is a six days' journal, and no nearer the bottom.
I fear these journals are very dull. Note my dullest
lines.
15. Mr. Lewis and I dined by invitation with a
Scotch acquaintance, after I had been very busy in
my chamber till two in the afternoon. My third
cold is now very troublesome on my breast, espe-
cially in the morning. This is a great revolution in
my health; colds never used to return so soon with
me or last so long. It is very surprising this news.
to-day of the dauphin and dauphiness both dying
within six days. They say the old king is almost
heartbroke he has had prodigious mortifications in
his family. The dauphin has left two little sons of four
and two years old; the eldest is sick. There is a fool-
ish story got about the town, that lord Strafford, one
of our plenipotentiaries, is in the interest of France :
and it has been a good while said that lord privy-
seala and he do not agree very well; they are both
long practised in business, but neither of them of
much parts. Strafford has some life and spirit, but
is infinitely proud and wholly illiterate. Night,
MD.
16. I dined to-day in the city with my printer, to
finish something I am doing about the Barrier
Treaty; but it is not quite done.b I went this even-
ing to lord Masham's, where lord-treasurer sat with
us till past twelve. The lords have voted an address
to the queen, to tell her they are not satisfied with
the king of France's offers. The Whigs brought it
in of a sudden; and the court could not prevent it,
and therefore did not oppose it. The house of lords
is too strong in Whigs, notwithstanding the new
creations; for they are very diligent, and the Tories.
as lazy the side that is down has always most in-
dustry. The Whigs intended to have made a vote
that would reflect on lord-treasurer, but their pro-
ject was not ripe. I hit my face such a rap by call-
ing the coach to stop to-night, that it is plaguy sore,
the bone beneath the eye. Night, dearest MD.
He designs to have it in length in the clothes he
wore when he did the action; and a penknife in his
hand; and Kneller is to copy it from this that I have.
I intended to dine with lord-treasurer to day, but he
has put me off till-morrow; so I dined with Lord
Dupplin. You know lord Dupplin very well; he is
a brother of the society. Well, but I have received
a letter from the bishop of Clogher, to solicit an
affair for him with lord-treasurer and with the par.
liament, which I will do as soon as fly. I am not
near so keen about other people's affairs as Ppt used
to reproach me about. It was a judgment on me.
Hearkee, idle dearees both, methinks I begin to
want a letter from MD: faith, and so I do. I
doubt you have been in pain about the report of my
being arrested. The pamphleteers have let me alone
this month, which is a great wonder: only the "Third
Part of the Answer to the Conduct," which is lately.
come out. (Did I tell you of it already?) The house
of commons goes on in mauling the late ministry
and their proceedings.
19. I dined with lord-treasurer to-day, and sat
with him till ten in spite of my teeth, though my
printer waited for me to correct a sheet. I told him
of four lines I writ extempore with my pencil on a
bit of paper in his house while he lay wounded.
Some of the servants I suppose made waste paper of
them, and he never heard of them. They were in-
scribed to Mr. Harley's physician thus:-
On Britain Europe's safety lies;
Britain is lost if ilarley dies.
Harley depends upon your skill :
Think what you save, or what you kill.
I proposed that some company should dine with
him on the eighth of March, which was the day he
was wounded; but he says he designs that the lords
of the cabinet who then sate with him should dine
that day with him: however, he has invited me to
dine. I am not yet rid of my cold; it plagues me in
the morning chiefly. Night, MD.
20. After waiting to catch the secretary coming
out from sir Thomas Hanmer for two hours in vain,
about some business, I went into the city to my
printer to correct some sheets of the Barrier Treaty
and Remarks, which must be finished to-morrow.
I have been terribly busy for some days past with
this and some other things; and I wanted some very
necessary papers which the secretary was to give me,
and the pamphlet must not be published without
them; but they are all busy too. Sir Thomas Han-
mer is chairman of the committee for drawing up a
representation of the state of the nation to the
queen, where all the wrong steps of the allies and
late ministry about the war will be mentioned.
The secretary, I suppose, was helping him about it
to-day; I believe it will be a pepperer. Night,
dear MD.
17. The court was mighty full to-day, and has
been these many Sundays; but the queen was not at
chapel. She has got a little fit of the gout in her
foot. The good of going to court is, that one sees all
one's acquaintance, whom otherwise I should hardly
meet twice a-year. Prince Eugene dines with the
secretary to-day, with about seven or eight general
officers or foreign ministers. They will be all drunk
I am sure. I never was in company with this
prince. I have proposed to some lords that we
should have a sober meal with him, but I cannot
compass it.
It is come over in the Dutch new prints
that I was arrested on an action of 20,000l. by the
21. I have been six hours to-day morning writing
duke of Marlborough. I did not like my court in-
vitations to day; so sir Andrew Fountaine and I nineteen pages of a letter to lord-treasurer, about
went and dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh. I came forming a society or academy to correct and fix the
home at six, and have been very busy till this minute,English language. (Is English a speech or a lan-
and it is past twelve, so I got into bed to write to guage!) It will not be above five or six more.
MD. We reckon the dauphin's death will set for-will send it him to-morrow, and will print it if
ward the peace a good deal. Pray is Dr. Griffith he desires me. I dined, you know, with our society
reconciled to me yet? Have I done enough to soften to-day; Thursday is our day. We had a new mem-
ber admitted; it was the duke of Beaufort.
were thirteen met; brother Ormond was not there, but
scut his excuse that prince Eugene dined with him.
I left them at seven, being engaged to go to sir Thomas
Hanmer, who desired I would see him at that hour.
His business was, that I would hoenlbp ihainm itaos
dsroanws ubpl tohne srocqporacnsiepnotlastoiqobn‚ª
Thus deciphered: "help him to draw up the representa
him?
18. Lewis had Guiscard's picture; he bought it
and offered it to lord treasurer, who promised to
send for it, but never did; so I made Lewis give it
me, and I have it in my room; and now lord-
treasurer says he will take it from me. Is that fair?
* Dr. John Robinson, bishop of Bristol.
It was published under the title of "Remarks on the Rar-
ric Treaty.
tion."
I
We
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
241
which I consented to do; but I do not know whether
I shall succeed, because it is a little out of my way:
however, I have taken my share. Night, MĎ.
22. I finished the rest of my letter to lord-treasurer
to-day, and sent it to him about one o'clock; and
then dined privately with my friend Mr. Lewis, to
talk over some affairs of moment. I have gotten the
13th volume of Rymer's Collection of the Records of
the Tower, for the university of Dublin. I have
two volumes now. I will write to the provost to
know how I shall send them to him; no, I wont, for
I will bring them myself among my own books. I
was with Hanmer this morning, and there was the
secretary and chancellor of the exchequer very busy
with him, laying their heads together about the re-
presentation. I went to lord Masham's to-night,
and lady Masham made me read her a pretty two-
penny pamphlet, called "the St. Alban's Ghost." I
thought I had writ it myself; so did they; but I did
not.
Lord-treasurer came down to us from the
queen, and we staid till two o'clock. That is the
best night place I have. The usual company are
lord and lady Masham, lord-treasurer, Dr. Arbuth-
not and I; sometimes the secretary and sometimes
Mrs. Hill of the bedchamber, lady Masham's sister.
I assure you it is very late now; but this goes to-
morrow and I must have time to converse with our
little MD. Night, dear MD.
23. I have no news to tell you this last day, nor
do I know where I shall dine. I hear the secretary
is a little cut of order. Perhaps I may dine there,
perhaps not. I sent Hanmer what he wanted from
me. I know not how he will approve of it. I was
to do more of the same sort. I am going out,
and must carry this in my pocket to give it at some
general post-house. I will talk further with you at
night. I suppose in my next I shall answer a letter
from MD that will be sent me. On Tuesday it will
be four weeks since I had your last, No. 26.
day se'ennight I expect one, for that will be some-
thing more than a full month. Farewell, MD.
LETTER THE FORTY-SECOND.
This
London, Feb. 23, 1711-12.
AFTER having disposed my last letter in the post-
office, I am now to begin this with telling MD that
I dined with the secretary to-day, who is much out of
order with a cold, and feverish; yet he went to the
cabinet council to-night at six against my will. The
secretary is much the greatest commoner in England,
and turns the whole parliament, who can do nothing
without him; and if he lives and has his health, will,
I believe, be one day at the head of affairs. I have
told him sometimes that, if I were a dozen years
younger, I would cultivate his favour and trust my
fortune with his. But what care you for all this?
I am sorry, when I came first acquainted with this
ministry, that I did not send you their names and
characters, and then you would have relished what
I would have writ, especially if I had let you into the
particulars of affairs: but enough of this. Night,
dearest rogues.
24. I went early this morning to the secretary, who
is not yet well. Sir Thomas Hanmer and the chan-
cellor of the exchequer came while I was there, and
he would not let me stir; so I did not go to church,
but was busy with them till noon about the affair I
told you in
in my last.
last. The other two went away; and
I dined with the secretary, and found my head very
much out of order, but no absolute fit; and I have
not been well all this day. It has shook me a little.
I sometimes sit up very late at lord Masham's, and
have writ much for several days past: but I will
VOL. I.
amend both; for I have now very little business, and
hope I shall have no more. I am resolved to be a
great rider this summer in Ireland. I was to see
Mrs. Westley this evening, who has been somewhat
better for this month past, and talks of returning to
the Bath in a few weeks. Our peace goes on but
slowly; the Dutch are playing tricks, and we do not
push it as strongly as we ought. The fault of our
court is delay, of which the queen has a great deal ;
and lord-treasurer is not without his share. But
pray let us know a little of your life and conversation.
Do you play at ombre, or visit the dean, and Goody
Walls and Stoytes and Manleys, as usual? I must
have a letter from you to fill the other side of this
sheet. Let me know what you do. Is my aunt
alive yet? O, pray, now I think of it, be so kind as
to step to my aunt, and take notice of my great-
grandfather's picture; you know he has a ring on
his finger, with a seal of an anchor and dolphin about
it; but I think there is besides, at the bottom of the
picture, the same coat of arms quartered with another,
which I suppose was my great-grandmother's. If
this be so, i .
stronger argument than the seal.
And pray see whether you think that coat of arms
was drawn at the same time with the picture, or
whether it be of a later hand; and ask my aunt
what she knows about it. But perhaps there is no
such coat of arms on the picture, and I only dreamed
it. My reason is, because I would ask some herald
here whether I should choose that coat, or one in
Guillim's large folio of heraldry, where my uncle
Godwin is named with another coat-of-arms of three
stags. This is sad stuff to write; so night, MD.
25. I was this morning again with the secretary
and we were two hours busy; and then went toge-
ther to the Park, Hyde Park, I mean; and be
walked to cure his cold, and we were looking at two
Arabian horses sent some time ago to lord-treasurer.
The duke of Marlborough's coach overtook us, with
his grace and lord Godolphin in it; but they did not
see us, to our great satisfaction; for neither of us
desired that either of those two lords should see us
together. There was half a dozen ladies riding
like cavaliers to take the air. My head is better to-
day. I dined with the secretary; but we did no
business after dinner, and at six I walked into the
fields; the days are grown pure and long; then I
went to visit Percival and his family, whom I had
scen but once since they came to town. They are
going to Bath next month. Countess Doll of Meath
is such an owl, that, wherever I visit, people are
asking me whether I know such an Irish lady, and
her figure and her foppery? I came home early, and
have been amusing myself with looking into one of
the volumes of Rymer's Records of the Tower, and
am mighty easy to think I have no urgent business
upon my hands. My third cold is not yet off; I
sometimes cough, and am not right with it in the
morning. Did I tell you that I believe it is lady
Masham's hot-rooms that give it me? I never knew
such a stove; and in my conscience, I believe both
my lord and she, my lord-treasurer, Mr. Secretary,
and myself, have all suffered by it. We have all
had colds together, but I walk home on foot. Night,
dear MD.
26. I was again busy with the secretary. We
read over some papers, and did a good deal of busi-
ness. I dined with him, and we were to do more
business after dinner; but after dinner is after
dinner-an old saying and a true, "much drink- j
ing, little thinking.'
ing, little thinking." We had company with us,
and nothing could be done, and I am to go there
again to-morrow. I have now nothing to do;
and the parliament, by the queen's recommendation,
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242
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
is to take some method for preventing libels, &c.,
which will include pamphlets, I suppose. I do not
know what method they will take, but it comes out
in a day or two. To-day in the morning I visited
upward; first I saw the duke of Ormond below stairs,
and gave him joy of his being declared general in
Flanders; then I went up one pair of stairs, and sate
with the duchess; then I went up another pair of
stairs, and paid a visit to lady Betty; and desired
her woman to go up to the garret, that I might pass
half an hour with her, but she was young and hand-
some, and would not. The duke is our president
this week, and I have bespoke a small dinner on
purpose, for good example. Night, my dear little
rogues.
27. I was again with the secretary this morning;
but we only read over some papers with sir Thomas
Hanmer; then I called at lord-treasurer's; it was his
levee-day, but I went up to his bedchamber, and said
what I had to say. I came down and peeped in at
the chamber, where a hundred fools were waiting,
and two streets were full of coaches. I dined in the
city with my printer, and came back at six to
lord-treasurer, who had invited me to dinner, but
I refused him. I sate there an hour or two, and
then went to lord Masham's. They were all abroad :
so truly I came, and read whatever stuff was next
me. I can sit and be idle now, which I have
not been above a year past. However, I will stay
out the session to see if they have any further com-
mands for me, and that I suppose will end in April.
But I may go somewhat before, for I hope all will be
ended by then, and we shall have either a certain
peace or certain war. The ministry is contriving
new funds for money by lotteries, and we go on as
if the war were to continue, but I believe it will not.
It is pretty late now, young women; so I bid you
night, own dear, dear little rogues.
28. I have been packing up some books in a great
box I have bought, and must buy another for clothes
and luggage. This is a beginning toward a removal.
I have sent to Holland for a dozen shirts, and design
to buy another new gown and hat. I will come over
like a Zinkerman [probably gentleman], and lay out
nothing in clothes in Ireland this good while. I have
writ this night to the provost. Our society met to-
day as usual, and we were fourteen, beside the earl
of Arran, whom his brother, the duke of Ormond,
brought among us against all order.
We were
mightily shocked; but after some whispers, it ended
in choosing lord Arran one of our society, which I
opposed to his face, but it was carried by all the rest
against me.
29. This is leap-year, and this is leap-day. Prince
George was born on this day. People are mistaken;
and some here think it is St. David's day; but they
do not understand the virtue of leap-year. I have
nothing to do now, boys, and have been reading all
this day like Gumdragon; and yet I was dictating
some trifles this morning to a printer. I dined with
a friend hard by, and the weather was so discouraging
I could not walk. I came home early, and have read
two hundred pages of Arrian.
of Arrian. Alexander the Great
is just dead; I do not think he was poisoned; be-
tween you and me, all those are but idle stories; it
is certain that neither Ptolemy nor Aristobulus
thought so, and they were both with him when he
died. It is a pity we have not their histories. The
bill for limiting members of parliament to have but
so many places passed the house of Commons, and
will pass the house of lords, in spite of the ministry,
which you know is a great lessening of the queen's
power. Four of the new lords voted against the
court in this point. It is certainly a good bill in the
|
reign of an ill prince, but I think things are not
settled enough for it at present. And the court may
want a majority at a pinch. Night, dear little rogues.
Love Pdfr.
March 1. I went into the city to inquire after poor
Stratford, who has put himself a prisoner into the
Queen's Bench, for which his friends blame him very
much, because his creditors designed to be very easy
with him. He grasped at too many things together,
and that was his ruin. There is one circumstance
relative to lieutenant-general Meredith, that is very
melancholy: Meredith was turned out of all his em-
ployments last year, and had about 10,0007. left to
live on.
Stratford, upon friendship, desired he might
have the management of it for Meredith, to put it
into the stocks and funds for the best advantage, and
now he has lost it all.-You have heard me oʻten
talk of Stratford; we were class-fellows at school and
university. I dined with some merchants, his friends,
to-day, and they said they expected his breaking this
good while.
good while. I gave him notice of a treaty of peace
while it was a secret, of which he might have made
good use, but that helped to ruin him for he
gave
money, reckoning there would be actually a peace
for this time, and consequently stocks rise high.
Ford narrowly escaped losing 5007. by him, and so
did I too. Night, my two dearest lives MD.
2. Morning. I was wakened at three this morning,
my man and the people of the house telling me of a
great fire in the Haymarket. I slept again, and two
hours after my man came in again, and told me it
was my poor brother [brother of the society] sir
William Wyndham's house burnt, and that two
maids, leaping out of an upper room to avoid the
fire, both fell on their heads, one of them upon
the iron spikes before the door, and both lay dead in
the streets. It is supposed to have been some care-
lessness of one or both those maids. The duke of
Ormond was there helping to put out the fire.
Brother Wyndham gave 6,0007. but a few months
ago for that house, as he told me, and it was very
richly furnished. I shall know more particulars at
night. He married lady Catherine Seymour, the
duke of Somerset's daughter; you know her, I be-
lieve. At night.-Wyndham's young child escaped
very narrowly; lady Catherine escaped barefoot;
they all went to Northumberland House.
Bridge's house, next door, is damaged much, and
was likely to be burnt. Wyndham has lost above
10,000Z. by this accident-his lady above a thousand
pounds worth of clothes. It was a terrible accident.
He was not at court to-day. I dined with lord
Masham. The queen was not at church. Night,
MD.
Mr.
3. Pray tell Walls that I spoke to the duke of
Ormond and Mr. Southwell about his friend's affair,
who, I find, needed not me for a solicitor, for they
both told me the thing would be done. I likewise
mentioned his own affair to Mr. Southwell, and I
hope that will be done too, for Southwell seems to
think it reasonable, and I will mind him of it again.
Tell him this nakedly. You need not know the
particulars. They are secrets; one of them is about
Mrs. South having a pension; the other about his
salary from the government for the tithes of the park,
that lie in his parish, to be put upon the establish-
ment. I dined in the city with my printer, with
whom I had some small affair. I have no large work
on my hands now. I was with lord-treasurer this
morning, and what care you for that? You dined
with the dean to-day. Monday is parson's holiday.
And you lost your money at cards and dice; the
giver's device. So I'll go to bed. Night, my two
dearest little rogues.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
243
4. I sat to-day with poor Mrs. Wesley, who made
me dine with her. She is much better than she was.
I heartily pray for her health, out of the entire love
I bear to her worthy husband. This day has passed
very insignificantly. But it is a great comfort to me
now that I can come home and read, and have no-
thing upon my hands to write. I was at lord
Masham's to-night, and stayed there till one. Lord-
treasurer was there; but I thought he looked melan-
choly, just as he did at the beginning of the session,
and he was not so merry as usual. In short, the
wajority in the house of lords is a very weak one:
and he has much ado to keep it up; and he is not
able to make those removes he would, and oblige his
friends; and I doubt he does not take care enough
about it, or rather cannot do all himself, and will not
employ others: which is his great fault, as I have
often told you It is late. Night, MD.
5. I wish you a merry Lent. I hate Lent; I hate
different diets, and furmity and butter, and herb
porridge; and sour devout faces of people who only
put on religion for seven weeks. I was at the
secretary's office this morning; and there a gentle-
man brought me two letters, dated last October;
one from the bishop of Clogher, the other from
Walls. The gentleman is called colonel Newburgh.
I think
you mentioned him to me some time ago;
he has business in the house of lords. I will do him
what service I can. The "Representation of the
House of Commons" is printed; I have not seen it
yet it is plaguy severe, they say. I dined with
Dr. Arbuthnot, and had a true lenten dinner, not in
point of victuals, but spleen; for his wife and a child
or two were sick in the house, and that was full as
mortifying as fish. We have had mighty fine cold
frosty weather for some days past. I hope you take
the advantage of it, and walk now and then. You
never answer that part of my letters where I desire
you to walk. I must keep my breath to cool my
lenten porridge. Tell Jemmy Leigh that his boy
that robbed him now appears about the town: Pa-
trick has seen him once or twice. I knew nothing
of his being robbed till Patrick told me he had seen
the boy. I wish it had been Sterne that had been
robbed, to be revenged for the box that he lost, and
be poxed to him! Night, MD.
I
|
6. I hear Mr. Prior has suffered by Stratford's
breaking. I was yesterday to see Prior, who is not
well, and I thought he looked melancholy. He can
ill afford to lose money. I walked before dinner in
I walked before dinner in
the Mall a good while with lord Arran and lord
Dupplin, two of my brothers, and then we went to
dinner, where the duke of Beaufort was our presi- |
dent. We were but eleven to-day. We are now in
all nine lords and ten commoners. The duke of
Beaufort had the confidence to propose his brother-
in-law, the earl of Danby, to be a member: but I
opposed it so warmly that it was waved. Danby is
not above twenty, and we will have no more boys,
and we want but two to make up our number.
stayed till eight, and then we all went away soberly.
The duke of Ormond's treat last week cost 201., |
though it was only four dishes and four without a
dessert; and I bespoke it in order to be cheap. Yet
I could not prevail to change the house. Lord-trea- |
surer is in a rage with us for being so extravagant;
and the wine was not reckoned neither: for that is
always brought by him that is president. Lord
Orrery is to be president next week; and I will see
whether it cannot be cheaper; or else we will leave
the house. Lord Masham made me go home with
him to-night to eat boiled oysters. Take oysters,
wash them clean; that is, wash their shells clean;
then put your oysters into an earthen pot, with their
|
hollow sides down, then put this pot covered into a
great kettle with water, and so let them boil. Your
oysters are boiled in their own liquor, and not
mix water. Lord-treasurer was not with us; he
was very ill to-day with a swimming in the head, and
is gone home to be cupped, and sent to desire lady
Masham to excuse him to the queen. Night, dear
MD.
7. I was to-day at the house of Lords about a
friend's bill. Then I crossed the water at West-
minster stairs to Southwark,went through St. George's
fields to the Mint, which is the dominion of the
King's Bench prison, where Stratford lodges in a
blind alley, and writ to me to come to him; but he
was gone to the Change. I thought he had some-
thing to say to me about his own affairs. I found
him at his usual coffee-house, and went to his own
lodgings, and dined with him and his wife, and other
company. His business was only to desire I would
intercede with the ministry about his brother-in-law,
Ben Burton of Dublin, the banker, who is likely to
come into trouble, as we hear, about spreading false
Whiggish news. I hate Burton, and told Stratford
so; and I will advise the duke of Ormond to make
use of it, to keep the rogue in awe. Mrs. Stratford
tells me her husband's creditors have consented to
give him liberty to get up his debts abroad; and she
hopes he will pay them all. He was cheerfuller than
I have seen him this great while. I have walked
much to-day. Night, dearest rogues.
I
8. This day twelvemonth Mr. Harley was stabbed,
but he is ill, and takes physic to-day, I hear ('tis
now morning); and cannot have the cabinet council
with him, as he intended, nor me to say grace.
am going to see him. Pray read the "Representa-
tion;" it is the finest that ever was writ.—Some of
it is Pdfr's style; but not very much. This is the
day of the queen's accession to the crown, so it is a
great day. I am going to court, and will dine with
lord Masham; but I must go this moment to see the
secretary about some business; so I will seal
up this,
and put it in the post. Farewell, dearest hearts and
souls, MD, MD, MD.
LETTER THE FORTY-THIRD.
London, March 8, 1711-12.
I CARRIED my 42nd letter in my pocket till evening.
and then put it in the general post. I went in the
morning to see lord-treasurer, who had taken phy-
sic, and was drinking his broth. I had been with
the secretary before, to recommend a friend, one Dr.
Freind, to be physician-general; and the secretary
promised to mention it to the queen. I can serve
everybody but myself. Then I went to court, and
carried lord-keeper and the secretary to dine with
lord Masham, when we drank the queen and lord-
treasurer with every health, because this was the
day of his stabbing. Then I went and played pools
at picquet with lady Masham and Mrs. Hill; won
ten shillings, gave a crown to the box, and came
home. I met at my lodgings a letter from Jo, with
a bit annexed from Ppt. What Jo asks is entirely
out of my way; and I take it for a foolish whim in
him.
him. Besides, I know not who is to give a patent;
if the duke of Ormond, I would speak to him; but
good security is all; and to think that I would
speak to lord-treasurer for any such matter at ran-
dom is a jest. Did I tell you of a race of rakes,
called the Mohocks, that play the devil about this
town every night, slit people's noses, and bid them,
&c.? Night, sirrahs, and love Pdfr. Night, MD.
9. I was at court to-day, and nobody invited me
to dinner, except one or two, whom I did not care
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244
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
to dine with; so I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.
Young Davenant was telling us at court how he was
set upon by the Mohocks, and how they ran his
chair through with a sword. It is not safe being in
the streets at night for them. The bishop of Salis-
bury's son is said to be of the gang. They are all
Whigs; and a great lady sent to me to speak to her
father and to lord-treasurer, to have a care of them,
and to be careful likewise of myself; for she heard
they had malicious intentions against the ministers
and their friends. I know not whether there be
anything in this, though others are of the same opi-
nion. The weather still continues very fine and
frosty. I walked in the park this evening, and came
home early to avoid the Mohocks. Lord-treasurer
is better. Night, my own two dearest MD.
10. I went this morning again to lord-treasurer,
who is quite recovered; and I stayed till he went out.
I dined with a friend in the city, about a little business
of printing; but not my own. You must buy a small
two-penny pamphlet, called "Law is a Bottomless
Pit; or, The History of John Bull."
It is very
prettily written, and there will be a second part.
The commons are very slow in bringing in their
bill to limit the press, and the pamphleteers make
good use of their time; for there come out three or
four every day. Well, but is not it time, methinks,
to have a letter from MD? it is now six weeks since
I had your No. 26. I can assure you I expect one
before this goes; and I will make shorter days' jour-
nals than usual, 'cause I hope to fill up a good deal
of this side with my answer. Our fine weather lasts
yet, but grows a little windy. We shall have rain
soon, I suppose. Go to cards, sirrahs, and I to
sleep. Night, MD.
11. Lord-treasurer has lent the long letter I writ
him to Prior; and I can't get Prior to return it. I
want to have it printed, and to make up this acade-
my for the improvement of our language. Faith, we
never shall improve it so much as FW has done;
shall we? No, faith, our richer Gengridge. I dined
privately with my friend Lewis, and then went to
see Ned Southwell, and talked with him about
Wall's business, and Mrs. South's. The latter will
be done; but his own not. Southwell tells me, that
it must be laid before lord-treasurer, and the nature
of it explained, and a great deal of clutter, which is
not worth the while; and, may be, lord-treasurer
won't do it at last; and it is, as Walls says himself,
not above forty shillings a year difference. You
must tell Walls this, unless he would have the busi-
ness a secret from you; in that case only say I did
all I could with Ned Southwell, and it cannot be
done; for it must be laid before lord-treasurer, &c.,
who will not do it; and besides, it is not worth
troubling his lordship. So night, my two dear little
MD.
12. Here is the devil and all to do with these Mo-
hocks. Grub-street papers about them fly like
lightning, and a list printed of near eighty put into
several prisons, and all a lie; and I begin almost to
think there is no truth, or very little in the whole
story. He that abused Davenant was a drunken
gentleman; none of that gang. My man tells me
that one of the lodgers heard in a coffechouse, pub-
licly, that one design of the Mohocks was upon me,
if they could catch me; and though I believe no-
thing of it, I forbear walking late, and they have.
put me to the charge of some shillings already. I
dined to-day with lord-treasurer and two gentle-
• A set of debauchees, who, under the varions names of
nickers, scowrers, &c., insulted passengers, attacked the
watchmen, and committed great absurdities in night brawls.
The "Spectator" goes fully into the description of their mad
tricks.
|
men of the Highlands of Scotland, yet very polite
men. I sat there till nine, and then went to lord
Masham's, where lord-treasurer followed me, and
we sat till twelve; and I came home in a chair for
fear of the Mohocks, and I have given him warning
of it too. Little Harrison, whom I sent to Holland,
is now actually made queen's secretary at the Hague.
It will be in the Gazette to-morrow. It is worth
twelve hundred pounds a-year.
Here is a young fellow has writ some "Sea
Eclogues," Poems of Mermen, resembling pastorals
and shepherds, and they are very pretty, and the
thought is new. Mermen are he-mermaids; Tri-
tons, natives of the sea. Do you understand me?
I think to recommend him to our society to-mor-
row. His name is Diaper. P on him! I must do
something for him, and get him out of the way. I
hate to have any new wits rise, but when they do
rise I would encourage them; but they tread on our
heels and thrust us off the stage. Night, dearest
MD.
13. You would laugh to see our printer constantly
attending our society after dinner, and bringing us
whatever new thing he has printed, which he seldom
fails to do; yet he had nothing to-day. Lord Lans-
down, one of our society, was offended at a passage
in this day's Examiner,' which he thinks reflects
on him, as I believe it does, though in a mighty
civil way. It is only that his underlings cheat; but
that he is a very fine gentleman every way, &c.
Lord Orrery was president to-day, but both our
dukes were absent. Brother Wyndham recom-
mended Diaper to the society. I believe we shall
make a contribution among ourselves, which I don't
like. Lord-treasurer has yet done nothing for us,
but we shall try him soon. The company parted
early, but Freind, and Prior, and I, sat a while
longer and reformed the state, and found fault with
the ministry. Prior hates his commission of the
customs, because it spoils his wit.
his wit. He says he
dreams of nothing but cockets, and dockets, and
drawbacks, and other jargon, words of the custom-
house. Our good weather went away yesterday,
and the nights are now dark, and I came home be-
fore ten. Night, my dearest sirrahs.
14. I have been plagued this morning with soli-
citors, and with nobody more than my brother Dr.
Freind, who must needs have me to get old Dr.
Lawrence, the physician- general, turned out and
himself in. He has argued with me so long upon
the reasonableness of it, and I am fully convinced
it is very unreasonable; and so I would tell the
secretary, if I had not already made him speak to
the queen.-Besides, I know not but my friend Dr
Arbuthnot would be content to have it himself, and
I love him ten times better than Freind. What's
all this to you? but I must talk of things as they
happen in the day, whether you know anything of
them or not. I dined in the city, and, coming back,
one parson Richardson, of Ireland, overtook me.
He was here last summer upon a project of convert-
ing the Irish and printing bibles, &c., in that lan-
guage, and is now returned to pursue it on.
tells me Dr. Coghill came last night to town. I will
send to see how he does to-morrow.
He gave me
He
a letter from Walls about his old business. Night,
dearest MD.
15. I had intended to be early with the secretary
this morning, when my men admitted up stairs one
Mr. Newcomb, an officer, who brought me a letter
from the bishop of Clogher, with four lines added by
Mr. Ashe, all about that. Newcomb. I think, in-
John Richardsou, rector of Annult, alias Belturbet, and
chaplain to the duke of Ormond.
JOURNAL ουί
245
TO STELLA.
3
!
deed, his case is hard, but God knows whether I shall
be able to do him any service. People will not un-
derstand: I am a very good second, but I care not
to begin a recommendation, unless it be for an inti-
mate friend. However, I will do what I can. I
missed the secretary, and then walked to Chelsea to
dine with the dean of Christchurch (Dr. Atterbury),
who was engaged to lord Orrery, with some other
Christchurch-men. He made me go with him whe-
ther I would or not, for they have this long time ad-
mitted me a Christchurch-man. Lord Orrery gene-
rally every winter gives his old acquaintance of that
college a dinner. There were nine clergymen at
table and four laymen. The dean and I soon left
them, and after a visit or two I went to lord Ma-
sham's and lord-treasurer Arbuthnot and I sat till
twelve. And now I am come home and got to bed.
I came afoot, but had my man with me. Lord-
treasurer advised me not to go in a chair, because
the Mohocks insult chairs more than they do those
on foot. They think there is some mischievous de-
sign in those villains. Several of them, lord-trea-
surer told me, are actually taken up. I heard, at
dinner, that one of them was killed last night. We
shall know more in a little time. I do not like them
as to men.
16. This morning, at the secretary's, I met gene-
ral Ross, and recommended Newcomb's case to him,
who promises to join with me in working up the
duke of Ormond to do something for him. Lord
Winchelsea told me to-day at court that two of the
Mohocks caught a maid of old lady Winchelsea's at
the door of their house in the park, with a candle,
and had just lighted out somebody. They cut all
her face and beat her, without any provocation. I
hear my
friend Lewis has got a Mohock in one of
the messenger's hands. The queen was at chureh
to-day, but was carried in an open chair. She has
got an ugly cough, Arbuthnot, her physician, says.
I dined with Crowe, late governor of Barbados, an
acquaintance of Stearn's. After dinner I asked him
whether he had heard of Stearn? "Here he is,"
said he, "at the door in a coach," and in came
Stearn. He has been here this week. He is buy-
ing a captainship in his cousin Stearn's regiment.
He told me he left Jemmy Leigh playing at cards
with you.
He is to give 800 guineas for his com-
mission. I suppose you know all this better than I.
How shall I have room to answer your letter when
get it, I have gone so far already? Night, dearest
rogues.
17. Dr. Sacheverel came this morning to give me
thanks for getting his brother an employment. It
was but six or seven weeks since I spoke to lord-
treasurer for him. Sacheverel brought Trap along
with him. We dined together at my printer's, and
I sate with them till seven. I little thought, and I
believe so did he, that ever I should be his solicitor
to the present ministry, when I left Ireland.
This
is the seventh I have now provided for since I came,
and can do nothing for myself. I don't care; I shall
have ministries and other people obliged to me.
Trap is a coxcomb, and the other is not very deep;
and their judgment in things of wit and sense is
miraculous. The second part of " Law is a Bottom-
less Pit" is just now printed, and better, I think, than
the first. Night, my two dear saucy little rogues.
I
18. There is a proclamation out against the Mo-
hocks. One of those that are taken is a baronet.
dined with poor Mrs. Wesley, who is returning to
the Bath. Mrs. Percival's youngest daughter has
got the small-pox, but will do well. I walked this
evening in the park, and met Prior, who made me
go home with him, where I stayed till past twelve, and
|
could not get a coach, and was alone, and was afraid
enough of the Mohocks. I will do so no more,
though I got home safe. Prior and I were talking
discontentedly of some managements, that no more
people are turned out, which gets lord-treasurer
many enemies: but whether the fault be in him, or
the queen, I know not; I doubt, in both. Young
women, it is now seven weeks since I received your
last; but I expect one next packet, to fill the rest of
this paper; but if it don't come I'll do without it :
so I wish you good luck at ombre with the dean.
Night, ****
19. Newcomb came to me this morning, and I
went to the duke of Ormond to speak for him; but
the duke was just going out to take the oaths for
general. The duke of Shrewsbury is to be lord-
lieutenant of Ireland. I walked with Domville and
Ford to Kensington, where we dined, and it cost me
above a crown. I don't like it, as my man said.
It was very windy walking. I saw there lord Ma-
sham's children. The youngest, my nephew, I fear,
has got the king's evil; the other two are daughters
of three and four years old. The gardens there are
mighty fine. I passed the evening at lord Masham's
with lord-treasurer and Arbuthnot, as usual, and we
stayed till past one; but I had my man to come with
me, and at home I found three letters; one from one
Fetherston, a parson, with a postscript of Tisdall's to
recommend him. And Fetherston, whom I never
saw, has been so kind as to give me a letter of attor-
ney to recover a debt for him: another from lord
Abercorn, to get him the dukedom of Châtelleraut
from the king of France; in which I will do what
I can, for his pretensions are very just: the third, I
warrant you, from our MD. It is a great stir this,
of getting a dukedom from the king of France: but
it is only to speak to the secretary, and get the duke
of Ormond to engage in it, and mention the case to
lord-treasurer, &c., and this I shall do. Night, dear-
est little MD.
:
20. I was with the duke of Ormond this morning,
about lord Abercorn, Dr. Freind, and Newcomb.
Some will do and some will not do that's wise,
mistresses. The duke of Shrewsbury is certainly to
be your governor. I will go in a day or two, and
give the duchess joy, and recommend the archbishop
of Dublin to her. I writ to the archbishop some
months ago that it would be so; and told him I would
speak a good word for him to the duchess; and he
says he has a great respect for her, &c. I made our
society change their house, and we met together at
the Star and Garter in the Pall-mall. Lord Arran
was president. The other dog was so extravagant
in his bills, that for four dishes and four, first and
second course, without wine or dessert, he charged
twenty-one pounds six shillings and eightpence to
the duke of Ormond. We design, when all have
been presidents this turn, to turn it into a reckoning
of so much a head; but we shall break up when the
session ends. Night, dearest.
21. Morning. Now I will answer MD's letter,
No. 27; you, that are adding to your numbers and
grumbling, had made it 26 and then altered it to 27.
I believe it is above a month since your last; yes, it
is above seven weeks since I had your last; but I
ought to consider that this was twelve days right
[writing], so that makes it pretty even. O, the
sorry jades, with their excuses of a fortnight at Bali-
gacol, seeing their friends and landlord running away.
O what a trouble and a bustle!-No-if you will
have it I am not dean of Wells, nor know anything
of being so; nor is there anything in the story; and
that's enough. It was not Roper sent that news:
Roper is my humble slave.-Yes, I heard of your
246
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
resolves, and that Burton was embroiled.
her over.
Stratford
spoke to me in his behalf; but I said I hated the
rascal. Poor Catherine gone to Wales? But she
will come back again, I hope. I would see her in
my journey, if she were near the road, and bring
Joe is a fool; that sort of business is not
at all in my way, pray put him off it. People laugh
when I mention it. Beg your pardon, mistress:
am glad you like the apron: no harm, I hope. And
so MD wonders she has not a letter all the day; she
will have it soon.
The deuce he is! married to that
vengeance! Men are not to be believed. I don't think
her a fool. Who would have her? Dilly will be
governed like an ass; and she will govern like a
lion. Is not that true, Ppt? Why, Sterne told me
he left you at ombre with Leigh; and yet you never
saw him. I know nothing of his wife being here: it
may cost her a
(I don't like to write that word
plain). He is a little in doubt about buying his
commission. Yes, I will bring you over all the
little papers I can think on. I thought I sent you,
by Leigh, all that were good at that time. The
author of the Sea Eclogues sent books to the society
yesterday, and we gave him guineas a-piece; and,
may be, will do further from him (for him, I mean).
So the bishop of Clogher and lady were your guests
for a night or two. Why, Ppt, you are grown a
great gamester and company-keeper. I did say to
myself, when I read those names, just what you
guess; and you clear up the matter wonderfully.
You may converse with those two nymphs if you
please, but take me if ever I do. Yes, faith, it
is delightful to hear that Ppt is every way Ppt now,
in health and looks and all. Pray God keep her
so, many, many, many years. The session, I doubt,
will not be over till the end of April; however, I
shall not wait for it, if the ministry will let me go
sooner. I wish I were just now in my little garden
at Laracor. I would set out for Dublin early on
Monday, and bring you an account of my young
trees, which you are better acquainted with than the
ministry, and so am I. O, now you have got No.
41; have you so? Why, perhaps, I forgot, and kept
it to next post in my pocket: I have done such tricks.
My cold is better, but not gone. I want air and
riding. Hold your tongue, you Ppt, about colds at
Moor Park! the case is quite different. I will do
what you desire me for Tisdall, when I next see
lord Anglesey. Pray give him my service. The
weather is warm these three or four days, and rainy.
I am to dine to-day with Lewis and Darteneuf at
Somers's, the clerk of the kitchen at court. Darte-
neuf loves good bits and good sups.
Good morrow,
little sirrahs. At night. I dined, as I said; and it
cost me a shilling for a chair. It has rained all day,
and is very warm. Lady Masham's young son, my
nephew, is very ill; and she is sick with grief. I
pity her mightily. I am got home carly, and going
to write to the bishop of Clogher, but have no poli-
tics to send him. Night, my own two dearest saucy
dear ones.
22. I am going into the city this morning with a
friend about some business; so I will immediately
scal up this, and keep it in my pocket till evening,
and then put it in the post. The weather continues
warm and gloomy. I have heard no news since I
went to bed, so can say no more. Pray send *****
*** **** that I may have time to write to *****
about it. I have here underneath given order [this
is cut off] for forty shillings to Mrs. Brent, which
you will send to Parvisol. Farewell, dearest dear
MD, and love Pdfr dearly. Farewell, MD, MD,
MD, &c. There, there, there, there, there, and there,
and there again.
|
LETTER THE FORTY-FOURTH.
London, March 22, 1711-12.
UGLY, nasty weather. I was in the city to-day with
Mrs. Wesley and Mrs. Percival, to get money from
a banker for Mrs. Wesley, who goes to Bath on
Thursday. I left them there, and dined with a
friend, and went to see lord -treasurer; but he had
people with him I did not know: so I went to lady
Masham's, and lost a crown with her at picquet, and
then sate with lord Masham and lord-treasurer, &c.,
till past one; but I had my man with me, to come
home. I gave in my 43rd, and one for the bishop of
Clogher, to the post-office, as I came from the city;
and so you know it is late now, and I have nothing
to say for this day. Our Mohocks are all vanished;
however, I shall take care of my person. Night,
my dearest MD.
23. I was this morning, before church, with the
secretary about lord Abercorn's business, and some
others. My soliciting season is come, and will last
as long as the session. I went late to court, and
the company was almost gone. The court serves
me for a coffeehouse; once a-week I meet an ac-
quaintance there that I should not otherwise see in
a quarter. There is a flying report that the French
have offered a cessation of arms, and to give us
Dunkirk, and the Dutch Namur, for security, till the
peace is made. The duke of Ormond, they say,
goes in a week. Abundance of his equipage is al-
ready gone. His friends are afraid the expense of
this employment will ruin him, since he must lose
the government of Ireland. I dined privately with
a friend, and refused all dinners offered me at court;
which, however, were but two, and I did not
like either. Did I tell you of a scoundrel about
the court, that sells employments to ignorant
people, and cheats them of their money? He lately
made a bargain for the vicc-chamberlain's place, for
seven thousand pounds, and had received some
guineas earnest; but the whole thing was discovered
the other day, and examination taken of it by lord
Dartmouth, and I hope he will be swinged. The
vice-chamberlain told me several particulars of it
last night at lord Masham's. Can DD play at ombre
yet, enough to hold the cards while Ppt steps into
the next room? Night, dearest sirrahs.
24. This morning I recommended Newcomb again
to the duke of Ormond, and left Dick Stewart to do
it farther. Then I went to visit the duchess of
Hamilton, who was not awake. So I went to the
duchess of Shrewsbury, and sat an hour at her toilet.
I talked to her about the duke's being lord-lieutenant.
She said she knew nothing of it; but I rallied her
out of that, and she resolves not to stay behind the
duke. I intend to recommend the bishop of Clogher
to her for an acquaintance. He will like her
very
well: she is, indeed, a most agreeable woman, and a
great favourite of mine. I know not whether the
ladies in Ireland will like her. I was at the court
of requests to get some lords to be at a committee
to-morrow about a friend's bill: and then the duke
of Beaufort gave me a poem, finely bound in folio,
printed at Stamford, and writ by a country squire.
Lord Exeter desired the duke to give it the queen,
because the author is his friend; but the duke de-
sired I would let him know whether it was good for
anything. I brought it home and will return it to-
morrow, as the dullest thing I ever read; and
advise the duke not to present it. I dined with
Domville at his lodgings, by invitation; for he goes
in a few days for Ireland. Night, dear MD.
25. There is a mighty feast at a Tory sheriff's to-
day in the city: twelve hundred dishes of meat.-
Above five lords and several hundred gentlemen will
*
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
247
lord-treasurer and three or four fellows I never saw
before. I left them at seven, and came home, and
have been writing to the archbishop of Dublin and
cousin Deane, in answer to one of his of four months
old, that I spied by chance, routing among my
papers. Domville is going to Ireland;
he came
be there, and give four or five guineas a-piece, | materials for a little mischief; and I dined with
according to custom. Doctor Coghill and I dined,
by invitation, at Mrs. Van's. It has rained or miz-
zled all day, as my pockets feel. There are two
new answers come out to the "Conduct of the
Allies." The last year's "Examiners," printed
together in a small volume, go off but slowly. The
printer over-printed himself by at least a thousand;
so soon out of fashion are party papers, however so
well writ. The "Medleys" are coming out in the
same volume, and perhaps may sell better. Our news
about a cessation of arms begins to flag, and I have
not these three days seen anybody in business to ask
them about it. We had a terrible fire last night in
Drury-lane, or thereabouts, and three or four people
destroyed. One of the maids of honour has the
small-pox but the best is, she can lose no beauty;
and we have one new handsome maid of honour.
Night, MD.
26. I forgot to tell you that on Sunday last, about
seven at night, it lightened above fifty times as I
walked the Mall, which I think is extraordinary at
this time of the year, and the weather was very hot.
Had you anything of this in Dublin? I intended to
dine with lord-treasurer to-day; but lord Mansel
and Mr. Lewis made me dine with them at Kit
Musgrave's. Now you don't know who Kit
Musgrave is. I sate the evening with Mrs. Wesley,
who goes to-morrow morning to the Bath, She is
much better than she was. The news of the French
desiring a cessation of arms, &c., was but town talk.
We shall know in a few days, as I am told, whether
there will be a peace or not. The duke of Ormond
will go in a week for Flanders they say. Our Mo-
hocks go on still and cut people's faces every night,
but they shan't cut mine. I like it better as it is.
The dogs will cost me at least a crown a-week in
chairs. I believe the souls of your houghers of
cattle have got into them, and now they don't dis-
tinguish between a cow and a christian. I forgot to
wish you yesterday a happy new year. You know
the twenty-fifth of March is the first day of the year,
and now you must leave off cards and put out your
fire. I'll put out mine the first of April, cold or not
cold. I believe I shall lose credit with you by not
coming over at the beginning of April; but I hoped
the session would be ended, and I must stay till
then; yet I would fain be at the beginning of my
willows growing. Percival tells me that the quicksets
upon the flat in the garden do not grow so well as
those famous ones on the ditch. They want digging
about them. The cherry trees by the river side my
heart is set upon.
We
27. Society day, you know that, I suppose. Dr.
Arbuthnot was president. His dinner was dressed
in the queen's kitchen, and was mighty fine.
eat it at Ozinda's chocolate-house, just by St.
James's. We were never merrier nor better com-
pany, and did not part till after eleven. I did not
summon lord Lansdown: he and I are fallen out.
There was something in an Examiner a fortnight
ago that he thought reflected on the abuses in his
office (he is secretary at war), and he writ to the
secretary that he heard I had inserted that paragraph.
This I resented highly, that he should complain of
me before he spoke to me. I sent him a peppering
letter, and would not summon him by note, as I did
the rest; nor ever will have anything to say to him
till he begs my pardon. I met lord-treasurer to-day
at lady Masham's. He would fain have carried me
home to dinner, but I begged his pardon. What!
upon a society day! No, no. It is late, sirrahs. I
am not drunk.-Night, MD.
|
here this morning to take leave of me, but I shall
dine with him to-morrow. Does the bishop of
Clogher talk of coming for England this summer?
I think lord Molesworth told me so about two
months ago.
The weather is bad again; rainy and
very cold this evening. Do you know what the
longitude is? A projector has been applying himself
to me to recommend him to the ministry, because
he pretends to have found out the longitude. I
believe he has no more found it out than he has
found out mine However, I will gravely hear
what he says, and discover him a knave or fool.
Night, MD.
29. I am plagued with these pains in my shoulder;
I believe it is rheumatic; I will do something for it
to-night. Mr. Lewis and I dined with Mr. Dom-
ville, to take our leave of him. I drank three or
four glasses of champaign by perfect teazing, though
it is bad for my pain; but if it continue, I will not
drink any wine without water till I am well. The
weather is abominably cold and wet. I am got into
bed, and have put some old flannel, for want of new,
to my shoulder; and rubbed it with Hungary water.
It is plaguy hard. I never would drink any wine if
it were not for my head, and drinking has given me
this pain. I will try abstemiousness for a while.
How does MD do now; how does DD and Ppt?
You must know I hate pain, as the old woman said.
But I'll try to go to sleep. My flesh sucks up Hun-
gary water rarely. My man is an awkward rascal,
and makes me peevish. Do you know that the other
day he was forced to beg my pardon, that he could
not shave my head, his hand shook so?
drunk every day, and I design to turn him off as
soon as ever I get to Ireland. I'll write no more
now, but go to sleep, and see whether flannel and
sleep will cure my shoulder. Night, dearest MD.
He is
30. I was not able to go to church or court to-
day.
day. The pain has left my shoulder, and crept to
my neck and collar-bone. It makes me think of
poor Ppt's blade-bone. Urge, urge, urge; dogs
gnawing. I went in a chair at two, and dined with
Mrs. Van, where I could be easy, and came back at
seven. My Hungary water is gone; and to-night I
use spirits of wine, which my landlady tells me is
very good. It has rained terribly hard all day long,
and is extremely cold. I am very uneasy, and such
cruel twinges every moment! Night, dearest MD.
'
'
31. April 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. All these days I
have been extremely ill; though I twice crawled
out a week ago; but am now recovering, though
very weak.
The violence of my pain abated the
night before last: I will just tell you how I was, and
then send this letter, which ought to have gone
Saturday last. The pain increased with mighty vio-
lence in my left shoulder and collar-bone, and that
side my neck. On Thursday morning appeared
great red spots in all those places where my pain
was, and the violence of the pain was confined to my
neck, behind, or a little on the left side; which was
so violent that I had not a minute's ease, nor hardly
a minute's sleep in three days and nights. The spots
increased every day, and red little pimples, which
are now grown white and full of corruption, though
small. The red still continues too, and most pro-
digious hot and inflamed. The discase is the shingles.
28. I was with my friend Lewis to-day, getting I eat nothing but water-gruel; am very weak; but
248
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
·
out of all violent pain. The doctors say it would
have ended in some violent disease, if it had not
come out thus. I shall now recover fast. I have
been in no danger of life, but miserable torture. So
adieu, dearest MD, FW, &c. There, I can say there
yet, you see. Faith, I don't conceal a bit, as hope
saved.
P.S. I must purge and clyster after this; and my
next letter will not be in the old order of journal till
I have done with physic. Are you not surprised to
see a letter want half a side?
LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH.
London, April 24, 1712.
I HAD yours two or three days ago. I can hardly
answer it now. Since my last I have been extremely
ill. 'Tis this day just a month since I felt the pain
on the tip of my left shoulder, which grew worse,
and spread for six days; then broke all out by my
collar and left side of my neck in monstrous red
spots inflamed, and these grew to small pimples.
For four days I had no rest nor nights for a pain in
my neck; then I grew a little better; afterward,
where my pains were, a cruel itching seized me,
beyond whatever I could imagine, and kept me
awake several nights. I rubbed it vehemently, but
did not scratch it: then it grew into three or four
great sores like blisters, and run; at last I advised
the doctor to use it like a blister, so I did with
melilot plasters, which still run; and am now in
pain enough, but am daily mending. I kept my
chamber a fortnight, then went out a day or two,
but confined myself two days ago. I went to a
neighbour to dine, but yesterday again kept at home.
To-day I will venture abroad, and hope to be well
in a week or ten days. I never suffered so much in
my life. I have taken my breeches in above two
inches, so I am leaner, which answers one question
in your letter. The weather is mighty fine. I write
in the morning, because I am better then. I will
go try to walk a little. I will give DD's certificate
to Tooke to-morrow. Farewell, MD, MD, &c.
LETTER THE FORTY-SIXTH.
London, May 10, 1712.
A
I
I HAVE not yet ease or humour enough to go on in
my journal method, though I have left my chamber
these ten days. My pain continues still in my
shoulder and collar; I keep flannel on it and rub it
with brandy, and take a nasty diet drink. I still
itch terribly, and have some few pimples: I am
weak, and sweat; and then the flannel makes me
mad with itching; but I think my pain lessens.
journal, while I was sick, would have been a noble
thing, made up of pain and physic, visits, and
messages; the two last were almost as troublesome
as the two first. One good circumstance is, that
I am grown much leaner. I believe I told you
that I have taken in my breeches two inches.
had your No. 29 last night. In answer to your
good opinion of my disease, the doctors said they
never saw anything so odd of the kind; they were
not properly shingles, but herpes miliaris, and twenty
other hard names. I can never be sick like other
people, but always something out of the common
way; and as for your notion of its coming without
pain, it neither came nor stayed, nor went without
pain, and the most pain I ever bore in my life.
demeris is retired in the country, with the beast her
husband long ago. I thank the bishop of Clogher
for his proxy; I will write to him soon. Here is
Dilly's wife in town; but I have not seen her yet.
Me-
I
No, simpleton: it is not a sign of health, but a sign
that if it had not come out some terrible fit of sick-
ness would have followed. I was at our society last
Thursday, to receive a new member, the chancellor
of the exchequer; but I drink nothing above wine
and water. We shall have a peace, I hope soon, or
at least entirely broke; but I believe the first. My
letter to lord-treasurer, about the English tongue, is
now printing; and I suffer my name to be put at
the end of it, which I never did before in my life.
The " Appendix to the Third Part of John Bull"
was published yesterday; it is equal to the rest.
I hope you read "John Bull." It was a Scotch
gentleman, a friend of mine, that writ it; but they
put it upon me. The parliament will hardly be up
till June. We were like to be undone some days
ago with a tack;ª but we carried it bravely, and the
Whigs came in to help us. Poor lady Masham, I
am fraid will lose her only son, about a twelvemonth
old, with the king's evil. I never would let Mrs.
Fenton see me during my illness, though she often
came; but she has been once since I recovered. Ber-
nage has been twice to see me of late. His regi-
ment will be broke, and he only upon half-pay; so
perhaps he thinks he will want me again. I am
told here the bishop of Clogher and family are coming
over; but he says nothing of it himself. I have
been returning the visits of those that sent how-
dees in my sickness; particularly the duchess of
Hamilton, who came and sat with me two hours. I
make bargains with all people that I dine with, to
let me scrub my back against a chair; and the duchess
of Ormond was forced to bear it the other day.
Many of my friends are gone to Kensington, where
the queen has been removed for some time. This is a
long letter for a sick body. I will begin the next in
the journal way, though my journals will be sorry
ones. My left hand is very weak and trembles; but
my right side has not been touched.
This is a pitiful letter, for want of a better;
But plagued with a tetter, my fancy does fetter.
Ah; my poor willows and quicksets! Well, but you
must read "John Bull." Do you understand it all?
Did I tell you that young parson Grey is going to
be married, and asked my advice when it was too
late to break off? He tells me Elwick has purchased
forty pounds a-year in land adjoining to his living.
Ppt does not say one word of her own little health.
I am vexed almost; but I won't, because she is a
good girl in other things. Yes, and so is DD too.
God bless MD, and FW, and Me, and Pdfr too.
Farewell, MD, MD, MD, Lele. I can say lele yet,
young women; yes I can, well as you.
LETTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH.
London, May 31, 1712.
I CANNOT yet arrive to my journal letters, my pains
continuing still, though with less violence; but I
don't love to write journals while I am in pain; and
above all not journals to MD. But, however, I am
so much mended, that I intend my next shall be in
the old way; and yet I shall perhaps break my reso-
lution when I feel pain I believe I have lost credit
with you in relation to my coming over; but I pro-
test it is impossible for one who has anything to do
with this ministry to be certain when he fixes any
time. There is a business, which, till it takes some
turn or other, I cannot leave this place in prudence or
honour. And I never wished so much as now that I
a A tack is a bill tacked to a money bill, that as both must
be passed or rejected together, the tacked bill may pass becauso
the money bill must.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
249
had stayed in Ireland; but the die is cast and is now
a spinning, and till it settles I cannot tell whether
it be an ace or a sise. The moment I am used ill I
will leave them; but know not how to do it while
things are in suspense.-The session will soon be over
(I believe in a fortnight), and the peace, we hope,
will be made in a short time; and there will be no
farther occasion for me; nor have I anything to trust
to but court gratitude; so that I expect to see my
willows a month after the parliament is up: but I will
take MD in my way, and not go to Laracor like an
unmannerly spreenckish fellow. Have you seen my
"Letter to Lord-treasurer?" There are two answers
come out to it already; though it is no politics, but
a harmless proposal about the improvement of the
English tongue. I believe if I writ an essay upon
a straw some fool would answer it. About ten days
hence I expect a letter from MD, No. 30.-You are
now writing it, near the end, as I guess.-I have
not received DD's money; but I will give you a
note for it on Parvisol, and beg your pardon I have
not done it before. I am just now thinking to go
lodge at Kensington for the air. Lady Masham has
teased me to do it, but business has hindered me ;
but now lord-treasurer has removed thither. Fifteen
of our society dined together under a canopy in an
arbour at Parson's-green last Thursday; I never saw
anything so tine and romantic. We got a great
victory last Wednesday in the house of lords by a
majority, I think, of twenty-eight; and the Whigs
had desired their friends to bespeak places to see
lord-treasurer carried to the Tower. I met your
Higgins here yesterday; he roars at the insolence of
the Whigs in Ireland, talks much of his own suffer-
ings and expenses in asserting the cause of the
church; and I find he would fain plead merit enough
to desire that his fortune should be mended. I be-
lieve he designs to make as much noise as he can in
order to preferment. Pray let the provost, when he
sees you, give you ten Euglish shillings, and I will
give as much here to the man who delivered me Ry-
mer's books: he knows the meaning. Tell him I
will not trust him, but that you can order it to be
paid me here; and I will trust you till I see you.
Have I told you that the rogue Patrick has left me
these two months to my great satisfaction? I have
got another, who seems to be much better, if he con-
tinues it. I am printing a threepenny pamphlet,ª and
shall print another in a fortnight, and then I have
done, unless some new occasion starts. Is my curate
Warburton married to Mrs. Melthrop in my parish?
so I hear. Or is it a lie? Has Raymond got to his
new house? Do you see Joe now and then? What
luck have you at ombre? How stands it with the
dean? My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine, if
she be come from Wales. I have not yet seen Dilly
Ashe's wife. I called once, but she was not at home:
I think she is under the doctor's hand. I believe
the news of the duke af Ormond producing letters
in the council of war, with orders not to fight, will
surprise you in Ireland. Lord-treasurer said in the
house of lords that in a few days the treaty of peace
should be laid before them; and our court thought
it wrong to hazard a battle, and sacrifice many lives
in such a juncture. If the peace holds all will do
well, otherwise I know not how we shall weather it.
And it was reckoned as a wrong step in politics for
'ord-treasurer to open himself so much. The secre-
rary would not go so far to satisfy the Whigs in the
house of commons; but there all went swimmingly.
I'll
a
say no more to you to-night, sirrahs, because I
. "Some Reasons to prove that no person is obliged by his
Principles as a Whug, to oppose her Majesty or the present
Ministry
must send away the letter, not by the bell, but early:
and besides, I have not much more to say at this pre-
sent writing. Does MD never read at all now, pray!
But you walk prodigiously, I suppose.-You make
nothing of walking to, to, to, ay, to Donybrook. I
walk as much as I can, because sweating is good;
but I'll walk more if I go to Kensington. I sup-
pose I shall have no apples this year neither. So
I dined the other day with lord Rivers, who is sick
at his country house, and he showed me all his cher-
ries blasted. Night, dearest sirrahs; farewell, dear-
est lives, love poor Pdfr. Farewell, dearest little MD.
LETTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH.
Kensington, June 17, 1712.
I HAVE been so tosticated about since my last, that
I could not go on in my journal manner, though my
shoulder is a great deal better; however, I feel violent
pain in it, but I think it diminishes, and I have cut
off some slices from my flannel. I have lodged here
near a fortnight, partly for the air and exercise,
partly to be near the court, where dinners are to be
found. I generally get a lift in a coach to town, and
in the evening I walk back. On Saturday I dined
with the duchess of Ormond at her lodge near Sheen,
and thought to get a boat as usual. I walked by the
bank to Kew, but no boat, then to Mortlake, but no
boat, and it was nine o'clock. At last a little sculler
called, full of nasty people. I made him set me down
at Hammersmith, so walked two miles to this place,
and got here by eleven. Last night I had another
such difficulty. I was in the city till past ten at
night; it rained hard, but no coach to be had. It
gave over a little, and I walked all the way here,
and got home by twelve. I love these shabby diffi-
culties when they are over; but I hate them, because
they arise from not having a thousand pounds a-year.
I had your No. 30 about three days ago, which I will
now answer. And first I did not relapse, but I came
out before I ought; and so, and so, as I have told you
in some of my last. The first coming abroad made
people think I was quite recovered, and I had no
more messages afterward. Well, but
but "John Bull"
is not wrote by the person you imagine. It is too
good for another to own. Had it been Grub-street,
I would have let people think as they please; and I
think that's right: is not it now? so flap your hand,
and make wry mouths yourself, saucy doxy. Now
comes DD. Why, sirrahs, I did write in a fortnight
my 47th; and if it did not come in due time, can I help
wind and weather? am I a Laplander? am I witch?
can I work miracles? can I make easterly winds?
Now I am against Dr. Smith. I drink little water
with my wine, yet I believe he is right. Yet Dr.
Cockburn told me a little wine would not hurt me;
but it is so hot and dry, and water is so dangerous. The
worst thing here is my evenings at lord Masham's,
where lord-treasurer comes, and we sit till after
twelve. But it is convenient I should be among
them for a while as much as possible. I need not
tell you why. But I hope that will be at an end
in a month or two one way or other, and I am re-
solved it shall; but I can't go to Tunbridge, or any-
where else out of the way, in this juncture. So Ppt
designs for Templeoag (what a name is that!).
Whereabouts is that place? I hope not very far from
Higgins is here roaring that all is wrong in
Ireland, and would have me get him an audience of
lord-treasurer to tell him so; but I will have nothing
to do in it, no, not I, faith. We have had ne
dead for want of rain; but there fell a great deal:
thunder till last night, and till then we were
no field looked green. I reckon the queen will go
250
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
to Windsor in three or four weeks; and if the secre-
tary takes a house there, I shall be sometimes with
him. But how affectedly Ppt talks of my being
here all the summer; which I do not intend, nor to
stay one minute longer in England than becomes
the circumstances I am in. I wish you would go soon
into the country, and take a good deal of it; and
where better than Trim? Joe will be your humble
servant, Parvisol your slave, and Raymond at your
command, for he piques himself on good manners.
I have seen Dilly's wife-and I have seen once or
twice old Bradley here. He is very well, very old,
He is very well, very old,
and very wise: I believe I must go see his wife when
I have leisure. I should be glad to see Goody Stoyte
and her husband; pray give them my humble service,
and to Catherine, and to Mrs. Walls-I cannot be
the least bit in love with Mrs. Walls-I suppose the
cares of the husband increase with the fruitfulness of
the wife. I am glad at heart to hear of Ppt's good
health; please to let her finish it by drinking waters.
I hope DD had her bill, and has her money. Re-
member to write a due time before the money is
wanted, and be good girls, good dallars, I mean, and
no crying dallars. I heard somebody coming up
stairs, and forgot I was in the country; and I was
afraid of a visitor; that is one advantage of being
here, that I am not teased with solicitors. Molt,
the chemist, is my acquaintance. My service to Dr.
Smith. I sent the question to him about sir Walter
Raleigh's cordial, and the answer he returned is in
these words: "It is directly after Mr. Boyle's re-
ceipt." That commission is performed; if he wants
any of it, Molt shall use him fairly. I suppose Smith is
your physicians. So now your letter is fully
and impartially answered: not as rascals answer me :
I believe, if I writ an essay upon a straw, I should
have a shoal of answers: but no matter for that:
you see I can answer without making any reflections,
as becomes men of learning. Well, but now for the
peace why, we expect it daily; but the French
have the staff in their own hands, and we trust to
their honesty. I wish it were otherwise. Things
are now in the way of being soon in the extremes of
well or ill.-I hope and believe the first. Lord
Lord
Wharton is gone out of town in a rage, and curses
himself and friends for ruining themselves in defend-
ing lord Marlborough and Godolphin, and taking
He swears he will
Nottingham into their favour.
meddle no more during this reign; a pretty speech
at sixty-six, and the queen is near twenty years
younger, and now in very good health; for you
must know her health is fixed by a certain reason,
that she has done with braces (I must use the ex-
pression), and nothing ill has happened to her since;
so she has a new lease of her life. Read the "Letter
to a Whig lord." Do you ever read? Why don't
you say so? I mean does DD read to Ppt? Do
you walk? I think Ppt should walk to DD, as DD
reads to Ppt, for Ppt you must know is a good
walker; but not so good as Pdfr. I intend to dine
to-day with Mr. Lewis: but it threatens rain; and
I shall be too late to get a lift; and I must write
to the bishop of Clogher. It is now ten in the
morning; and this is all writ at a heat. Farewell,
dearest MD.
one of
LETTER THE FORTY-NINTH.
Kensington, July 1, 1712.
I NEVER was in a worse station for writing letters
than this; for I go to town early; and when I come
home at night I generally go to lord Masham's,
where lord-treasurer comes, and we stay till past
twelve; but I am now resolved to write journals
|
|
again, though my shoulder is not yet well; for 1
have still a few itching pimples, and a little pain
now and then. It is now high cherry time with us;
take notice, is it so soon with you? And we have
early apricots; and gooseberries are ripe. On Sun-
day archdeacon Parnell came here to see me. It
seems he has been ill for grief of his wife's death,
and has been two months at Bath. He has a mind
to go to Dunkirk with Jack Hill, and I persuade
him to it, and have spoke to Hill to receive him;
but I doubt he won't have spirit to go. I have made
Ford gazetteer, and got two hundred pounds a-year
settled on the employment by the secretaries of state,
beside the perquisites. It is the prettiest employ-
ment in England of its bigness; yet the puppy does
not seem satisfied with it. I think people keep
some follies to themselves, till they have occasion to
produce them. He thinks it not genteel enough,
and makes twenty difficulties. It is impossible to
make any man easy. His salary is paid him every
week, if he pleases, without taxes or abatements.
He has little to do for it. He has a pretty office,
with coals, candles, papers, &c.; can frank what
letters he will; and his perquisites, if he takes care,
may be worth one hundred pounds more. I hear
the bishop of Clogher is landing, or landed, in Eng-
land; and I hope to see him in a few days. I was
to see Mrs. Bradley on Sunday night. Her young-
est son is to marry somebody worth nothing, and
her daughter was forced to leave lady Giffard, be-
cause she was striking up an intrigue with a foot-
man who played well on the flute. This is the
mother's account of it. Yesterday, the old bishop
of Worcester, who pretends to be a prophet, went
to the queen by appointment, to prove to her ma-
jesty, out of Daniel and the Revelation, that four
years hence there would be a war of religion; that
the king of France would be a protestant, and fight
on their side; that the popedom would be destroyed,
&c.; and declared that he would be content to give
up his bishopric if it were not true. Lord-treasurer,
who told it me, was by, and some others; and I am
told lord-treasurer confounded him sadly in his own
learning, which made the old fool very quarrelsome.
He is near ninety years old. Old Bradley is fat and
lusty, and has lost his palsy.
lusty, and has lost his palsy. Have you seen "To-
land's Invitation to Dismal ?" [the earl of Notting-
ham.] How do you like it? But it is an imitation
of Horace, and perhaps you do not understand Ho-
race. Here has been a great sweep of employments,
and we expect still more removals. The court seems
resolved to make thorough work. Mr. Hill intended
to set out to-morrow for Dunkirk, of which he is
appointed governor; but he tells me to-day that he
cannot go till Thursday or Friday. I wish it were
Mr. Secretary tells me he is in no fear at all
that France will play tricks with us. If we have
Dunkirk once, all is safe. We rail now all against
the Dutch,
the Dutch, who, indeed, have acted like knaves,
fools, and madmen. Mr. Secretary is soon to be
made a viscount. He desired I would draw the
preamble of his patent; but I excused myself from a
work that might lose me a great deal of reputation,
and get me very little. We would fain have the
court make him an earl, but it will not be and
therefore he will not take the title of Bolingbroke,
which is lately extinct in the elder branch of his
family. I have advised him to be called lord Pom-
fret; but he thinks that title is already in some other
family; and besides, he objects that it is in York-
shire, where he has no estate; but there is nothing
over.
;
Dr. William Lloyd, bishop of Worcester, a man of learning,
and author of a " History of the Government of the Church,
and other works.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
251
In that, and I love Pomfret. Don't you love Pom-
Don't you love Pom- and as heartily as Ppt. What had I to do here? I
fret? Why? 'Tis in all our histories; they are full have heard of the bishop's [of Meath] making me
of Pomfret-castle. But what's all this to you? You uneasy, but I did not think it was because I never
don't care for this? Is Goody Stoyte come to Lon-
wrote to him. A little would make me write to
don? I have not heard of her yet. The dean of St. him, but I don't know what to say. I find I am
Patrick's never had the manners to answer my letter. obliged to the provost for keeping the bishop from
I was the other day to see Stearn and his wife. She being impertinent. Yes, Mrs. DD, but you would
is not half so handsome as when I saw her with you not be content with letters from Pdfr of six lines, or
at Dublin. They design to pass the summer at a twelve either, faith. I hope Ppt will have done
house near lord Somers's, about a dozen miles off. with the waters soon, and find benefit by them. I
You never told me how my Letter to Lord-Trea- believe, if they were as far off as Wexford, they
surer" passes in Ireland. I suppose you are drink-
would do as much good; for I take the journey to
ing at this time Temple-something waters. Steele contribute as much as anything. I can assure you,
was arrested the other day for making a lottery di- the bishop of Clogher's being here does not in the
rectly against an act of parliament. He is now un- least affect my staying or going. I never talked to
der prosecution; but they think it will be dropped Higgins but once in my life in the street, and I be-
out of pity. I believe he will very soon lose his | lieve he and I shall hardly meet but by chance.
employment, for he has been mighty impertinent of What care I whether my "Letter to Lord-Treasurer'
late in his Spectators; and I will never offer a word be commended there or not? Why does not some-
in his behalf. Raymond writes me word that the body among you answer it, as three or four have
bishop of Meath [Dr. William Moreton] was going done here? (I am now sitting with nothing but my
to summon me, in order to suspension for absence, bedgown, for heat.) Ppt shall have a great Bible,
if the provost had not prevented him. I am prettily and DD shall be repaid her other book; but pa-
rewarded for getting them their first-fruits with a tience; all in good time: you are so hasty, a dog,
p. We have had very little hot weather during would, &c. So Ppt has neither won nor lost. Why,
the whole month of June; and for a week past we mun, I play sometimes too at picket; that is pic-
have had a great deal of rain, though not every day. quet, I mean; but very seldom.-Out late? why, it
I am just now told that the governor of Dunkirk is only at lady Masham's, and that is in our town;
has not orders yet to deliver up the town to Jack but I never come late here from London, except
Hill and his forces, but expects them daily. This once in rain, when I could not get a coach. We
must put off Hill's journey a while, and I don't like have had very little thunder here; none these two
these stoppings in such an affair. Go, get you gone,
months. Why, pray, madam philosopher, how did
and drink your waters, if this rain has not spoiled
if this rain has not spoiled the rain hinder the thunder from doing any harm?
them, saucy doxy. I have no more to say to you at I suppose it squenched it. So here comes Ppt again
present but love Pdfr, and MD, and Me. And with her little watery postscript. You bold drunken
Pdfr will love Pdfr, and MD, and Me.
I wish you
slut you! drink Pdfr's health ten times in a morn-
had taken an account when I sent money to Mrs. ing! you are a whetter, faith. I sup MD's fifteen
Brent. I believe I have not done it a great while. times every morning in milk porridge. There's for
Farewell, dearest MD.
you now-and there's for your letter, and every kind
of thing—and now I must say something else. You
hear secretary St. John is made viscount Boling-
broke. I could hardly persuade him to take that
title, because the eldest branch of his family had it
in an earldom, and it was last year extinct. If he
did not take it, I advised him to be lord Pomfret,
which I think is a noble title. You hear of it often
in the Chronicles, Pomfret-castle: but we believed
it was among the titles of some other lord. Jack
Hill sent his sister a pattern of a head-dress from
Dunkirk; it was like our fashion twenty years ago,
only not quite so high, and looks very ugly. I have
made Trap chaplain to lord Bolingbroke, and he is
mighty happy and thankful for it. Mr. Addison
returned me my visit this morning. He lives in our
town. I shall be mighty retired, and mighty busy
for a while at Windsor. Pray why don't MD go to
Trim, and see Laracor, and give me an account of
the garden, and the river, and the holly and the
cherry-trees on the river walk?
LETTER THE FIFTIETH.
I can
Kensington, July 17, 1712.
I AM weary of living in this place, and glad to leave
it soon.
The queen goes on Tuesday to Windsor,
and I shall follow in three or four days after.
do nothing here, going early to London, and coming
late from it, and supping at lady Masham's. I dined
to-day with the duke of Argyle at Kew, and would
not go to the court to-night, because of writing to
MD. The bishop of Clogher has been here this
fortnight: I see him as often as I can. Poor Master
Ashe has a bad redness in his face; it is St. An-
thony's fire; his face all swelled, and will break out
in his cheek, but no danger. Since Dunkirk has
been in our hands, Grub-street has been very frult-
ful. Pdfr has writ five or six Grub-street papers this
last week. Have you seen "Toland's Invitation to
Dismal," or " Hue and Cry after Dismal," or " Bal-
lad on Dunkirk," or Agreement that Dunkirk is
not in our hands?" Poh! you have seen nothing.
I am dead here with the hot weather; yet I walk
every night home, and believe it does me good: but
my shoulder is not yet right; itchings, and scratch-
ings, and small achings. Did I tell you that I have
måde Ford gazetteer, with two hundred pounds
a-year salary, besides perquisites? I had a letter
lately from Parvisol, who says my canal looks very
finely; I long to see it; but no apples; all blasted
again. He tells me there will be a triennial visita-
tion in August. I must send Raymond another
proxy. So now I will answer your letter, No. 30,
dated June 17. Ppt writes as well as ever, for all
her waters. I wish I had never come here, as often
|
19. I could not send this letter last post, being
called away before I could finish it. I dined yester-
day with lord-treasurer; sat with him till ten at
night; yet could not find a minute for some business
I had with him. He brought me to Kensington,
and lord Bolingbroke would not let me go away till
two; and I am now in bed, very lazy and sleepy at
nine. I must share head and face, and meet lord
Bolingbroke at eleven, and dine again with lord-
treasurer. To-day there will be another Grub, “ A
Letter from the Pretender to a Whig Lord." Grub-
street has but ten days to live; then an act of par-
liament takes place that ruins it, by taxing every
half-sheet at a half-penny. We have news just
come, but not the particulars, that the earl of Alde-
252
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
The
marle, at the head of eight thousand Dutch, is
beaten, lost the greatest part of his men, and himself
made a prisoner. This perhaps may cool their
courage, and make them think of a peace.
duke of Ormond has got abundance of credit by his
good conduct of affairs in Flanders. We had a good
deal of rain last night, very refreshing. It is late,
and I must rise. Don't play at ombre in your
waters, sirrah. Farewell, dearest MD.
LETTER THE FIFTY-FIRST.
London, Aug. 7, 1712.
I HAD your No. 32 at Windsor: I just read it, and
immediately sealed it up again, and shall read it no
more this twelvemonth at least. The reason of my
resentment is, because you talk as glibly of a thing
as if it were done, which, for aught I know, is far-
ther from being done than ever, since I hear not a
word of it, though the town is full of it, and the
court always giving me joy and vexation. You
might be sure I would have let you know as soon
as it was done; but I believe you fancied I would
not affect to tell it you, but let you learn it from
newspapers and reports. I remember only there was
something in your letter about Me's money; and
that shall be taken care of on the other side. I left
Windsor on Monday last, upon lord Bolingbroke's
being gone to France; and somebody's being here
that I ought often to consult with in an affair I am
upon but that person talks of returning to Windsor
again, and I believe I shall follow him. I am now
in a hedge lodging very busy, as I am every day till
noon so that this letter is like to be short, and you
are not to blame me these two months; for I pro-
test, if I study ever so hard, I cannot in that time
compass what I am upon. We have a fever both
'here and at Windsor, which hardly anybody misses;
but it lasts not above three or four days, and kills
nobody. The queen had forty servants down in it
at once. I dined yesterday with lord-treasurer, but
could do no business, though he sent for me I
thought on purpose; but he desires I will dine with
him again to-day. Windsor is a most delightful
place, and at this time abounds in dinners. My
lodgings look upon Eton and the Thames.
I wish
The
I were owner of them; they belong to a prebend.
God knows what was in your letter; and if it be not
answered, whose fault is it, saucy dallars?
dallars? Do
Do you
know that Grub-street is dead and gone last week?
No more ghosts or murders now for love or money.
I plied it pretty close the last fortnight, and pub-
lished at least seven penny papers of my own, be-
sides some of other people's: but now every single
half-sheet pays a half-penny to the queen.
"Observator" is fallen; the "Medleys" are jumbled
together with the "Flying Post;" the "Examiner"
is deadly sick; the "Spectator" keeps up, and
doubles its price; I know not how long it will hold.
Have you seen the red stamp the papers are marked
with? Methinks it is worth a half-penny the stamp-
ing. Lord Bolingbroke and Prior set out for France
last Saturday. My lord's business is to hasten the
peace before the Dutch are too much mauled, and to
hinder France from carrying the jest of beating
them too far. Have you seen the fourth part of
John Bull? It is equal to the rest, and extremely
good. The bishop of Clogher's son has been ill of
St. Anthony's fire, but is now quite well. I was
afraid his face would be spoiled, but it is not. Dilly
is just as he used to be, and puns as plentifully and
as bad. The two brothers see one another; and I
a His History of the Four last Years.
think not the two sisters. Raymond wrote to me
that he intended to invite you to Trim. Are you,
have you, will you be there? Won't you see poor
Laracor? Parvisol says I shall have no fruit. Blasts
have taken away all. Pray observe the cherry-trees
in the river walk; but you are too lazy to take such
a journey. If you have not your letters in due time
for two months hence, impute it to my being tosti-
cated between this and Windsor. Poor lord Win-
chelsea is dead, to my great grief. He was a worthy
honest gentleman, and particular friend of mine;
and, what is yet worse, my old acquaintance, Mrs.
Finch, is now countess of Winchelsea, the title being
fallen to her husband, but without much estate. I
have been poring my eyes all this morning, and it is
now past two afternoon, so I shall take a little walk
in the park. Do you play at ombre still? Or is
that off by Mr. Stoyte's absence and Mrs. Manley's
grief? Somebody was telling me of a strange sister
that Mrs. Manley has got in Ireland, who dis-
appointed you all about her being handsome. My
service to Mrs. Walls. Farewell, dearest MD, FW,
Me, Lele, rogues both; love poor Pdfr.
LETTER THE FIFTY-SECOND.
Windsor, Sept. 15, 1712.
I am
I NEVER was so long without writing to MD as now
since I left them, nor ever will again while I am
able to write. I have expected from one week to
another that something would be done in my own
affairs; but nothing at all is, nor I don't know
when anything will, or whether any at all, so slow
are people at doing favours. I have been much out
of order of late with the old giddiness in my head.
I took a vomit for it two days ago, and will take
another about a day or two hence. I have eat
mighty little fruit; yet I impute my disorder to that
little, and shall henceforth wholly forbear it.
engaged in a long work, and have done all I can of
it, and wait for some papers from the ministry for
materials for the rest; and they delay me, as if it
were a favour I asked of them; so that I have been
idle here this good while, and it happened in a right
time, when I was too much out of order to study.
One is kept constantly out of humour by a thousand
unaccountable things in public proceedings; and
when I reason with some friends, we cannot con-
ceive how affairs can last as they are. God only
knows, but it is a very melancholy subject for those
who have any near concern in it. 1 am again en-
deavouring, as I was last year, to keep people from
breaking to pieces upon a hundred misunderstand-
ings. One cannot withhold them from drawing
different ways, while the enemy is watching to de-
stroy both. See how my style is altered, by living
and thinking, and talking among these people, in-
stead of my canal and river, walk and willows.
lose all my money here among the ladies; so that I
never play when I can help it, being sure to lose. I
have lost five pounds the five weeks I have been
here. I hope Ppt is luckier at picquet with the
dean and Mrs. Walls. The dean never answered
my letter, and I have clearly forgot whether I sent a
bill for Me in any of my last letters. I think 1 did;
pray let me know, and always give me timely notice.
I wait here but to see what they will do for me
and whenever preferments are given from me, as ***
said, I will come over.
I
18. I have taken a vomit to-day, and hope I shall
be better. I have been very giddy since I wrote
what is before, yet not as I used to be: more fre-
quent, but not so violent. Yesterday we were
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
253
alarmed with the queen's being ill: she had an
aguish and feverish fit; and you never saw such
countenances as we all had, such dismal melancholy.
Her physicians from town were sent for; but to-
ward night she grew better; to-day she missed her
fit, and was up: we are not now in any fear; it will
be at worst but an ague, and we hope even that
will not return. Lord-treasurer would not come
here from London, because it would make a noise,
if he came before his usual time, which is Saturday,
and he goes away on Mondays. The Whigs have
lost a great support in the earl of Godolphin. It is
a good jest to hear the ministers talk of him with
humanity and pity, because he is dead, and can do
them no more hurt. Lady Orkney,ª the late king's
mistress, (who lives at a fine place, five miles from
hence, called Cliffden,) and I, are grown mighty
`acquaintance. She is the wisest woman I ever saw;
and lord-treasurer made great use of her advice in
the late change of affairs. I heard lord Marlborough
is growing ill of his diabetes; which, if it be true,
may soon carry him off; and then the ministry will
be something more at ease. MD has been a long
time without writing to Pdfr, though they have not
the same cause: it is seven weeks since your last
came to my hands, which was No. 32, that you may
not be mistaken. I hope Ppt has not wanted her
health. You were then drinking waters. The doc-
tor tells me I must go into a course of steel, though
I have not the spleen; for that they can never give
me, though I have as much provocation to it as any
man alive. Bernage's regiment is broke; but he is
upon half-pay. I have not seen him this long time;
but I suppose he is overrun with melancholy. My
lord Shrewsbury is certainly designed to be governor
of Ireland; and I believe the duchess will please
the people there mightily. The Irish Whig leaders
promise great things to themselves from this
govern-
ment but great care shall be taken, if possible, to
prevent them. Mrs. Fenton has writ to me that she
has been forced to leave lady Giffard, and come to
town, for a rheumatism: that lady does not love to
be troubled with sick people. Mrs. Fenton writes
to me as one dying, and desires I would think of
her son: I have not answered her letter. She is
retired to Mrs. Povey's. Is my aunt alive yet? and
do you ever see her? I suppose she has forgot the
loss of her son. Is Raymond's new house quite
finished? and does he squander as he used to do?
Has he yet spent all his wife's fortune? I hear
there are five or six people putting strongly in for
my livings; God help them! But if ever the court
should give me anything, I would recommend Ray-
mond to the Duke of Ormond; not for any particu-
lar friendship to him, but because it would be proper
for the minister of Trim to have Laracor. You may
keep the gold studded snuff-box now; for my
brother Hill, governor of Dunkirk, has sent me the
finest that ever you saw.
It is allowed at court that
none in England comes near it, though it did not
cost above twenty pounds. And the duchess of
Hamilton has made me a pocket for it, like a
woman's, with a belt and buckle (for, you know, I
wear no waistcoat in summer), and there are several
divisions, and one on purpose for my box, oh, ho!—
We have had most delightful weather this whole
week; but illness and vomiting have hindered me
from sharing in a great part of it. Lady Masham
made the queen send to Kensington for some of her
preserved ginger for me, which I take in the morn-
ing, and hope it will do me good. Mrs. Brent sent
me a letter by a young fellow, a printer, desiring I
Lady Elizabeth Villiers, on whom King William settled a
large estate in Ireland.
would recommend him here, which you may tell her
I have done but I cannot promise what will come
of it, for it is necessary they should be made free
here before they can be employed. I remember I
I hope Parvisol
put the boy apprentice to Brent.
has set my tithes well this year; he has writ nothing
to me about it; pray talk to him of it when you see
him, and let him give me an account how things are.
I
suppose the corn is now off the ground. I hope he
has sold that great ugly horse. Why don't
Why don't you talk
to him?
He keeps me at charges for horses that I
never ride: yours is large, and will never be good
for anything. The queen will stay here about a
month longer I suppose; but lady Masham will go
in ten days to lie in at Kensington. Poor creature!
she fell down in the court here the other day. She
would needs walk across it upon some displeasure
with her chairmen, and was likely to be spoiled so
near her time; but we hope all is over for a black
eye and a sore side: though I shall not be at ease
till she is brought to bed. I find I can fill up a
letter, some way or other, without a journal. If I
had not a spirit naturally cheerful,a I should be very
much discontented at a thousand things. Pray God
preserve MD's health, and Pdfr's, and that I may
live free from the envy and discontent that attends
those who are thought to have more favour at court
than they really possess. Love Pdfr, who loves MD
above all things. Farewell, dearest, ten thousand
times dearest, MD.
now.
LETTER THE FIFTY-THIRD.
London, Oct. 9, 1712.
I HAVE left Windsor these ten days, and am deep in
pills with asafoetida and a steel bitter drink;
find my head much better than it was.
and I
I was very
much discouraged; for I used to be ill for three
or four days together, ready to totter as I walked.
I take eight pills a-day, and have taken, I believe,
a hundred and fifty already. The queen, lord-
treasurer, lady Masham and I were all ill together,
but are now all better; only lady Masham expects
every day to lie in at Kensington. There never was
such a lump of lies spread about the town together as
I doubt not but you will have them in Dub-
lin before this comes to you, and all without the
least ground of truth. I have been mightily put
back in something I am writing by my illness, but
hope to fetch it up, so as to be ready when the par-
liament meets. Lord-treasurer has had an ugly fit
of the rheumatism, but it is now near quite well. I
was playing at one-and-thirty with him and his family
the other night. He gave us all twelvepence apiece to
begin with: it put me in mind of sir William Tem-
ple. I asked both him and lady Masham seriously
whether the queen were at all inclined to a dropsy?
And they positively assured me she was not: so did
her physician Arbuthnot, who always attends her.
Yet these devils have spread that she has holes in
her legs and runs at her navel, and I know not what.
Arbuthnot has sent me from Windsor a pretty Dis-
course upon Lying, and I have ordered the printer
to come for it. It is a proposal for publishing a
curious piece, called "The Art of Political Lying,
in two volumes," &c. And then there is an at-
stract of the first volume, just like those pamphlets
which they call "The Works of the Learned."
Pray get it when it comes out. The queen has a
little of the gout in one of her hands. I believe she
will stay a month still at Windsor. Lord-treasurer
a His life is a mournful and striking instance of the power of
disappointment totally to subvert natural cheerfulness, to take
away the value of every good, and aggravate real by imaginery
evil.
254
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
showed nie the kindest letter from her in the world,
by which I picked out one secret, that there will be
soon made some knights of the Garter. You know
another is fallen by lord Godolphin's death: he will
be buried in a day or two at Westminster Abbey.
I saw Tom Leigh in town once. The bishop of
Clogher has taken his lodging for the winter; they
are all well. I hear there are in town abundance of
people from Ireland; half-a-dozen bishops at least.
The poor old bishop of London, at past fourscore,
fell down backward going up stairs, and I think
broke or cracked his skull; yet is now recovering.
The town is as empty as at midsummer; and if I
had not occasion for physic, I would be at Windsor
* still. Did I tell you of lord Rivers' will? He has left
legacies to about twenty paltry old whores by name,
and not a farthing to any friend, dependent, or rela-
tion: he has left from his only child, lady Barrymore,b
her mother's estate, and given the whole to his heir-
male, a popish priest, a second cousin, who is now
earl Rivers, and whom he used in his life like a foot-
man.
Is
After him it goes to his chief wench and
bastard. Lord-treasurer and lord-chamberlain are
executors of this hopeful will. I loved the man, but
detest his memory. We hear nothing of peace yet:
I believe verily the Dutch are so wilful because they
are told the queen cannot live. I had poor MD's
letter, No. 32, at Windsor: but I could not answer
it then; Pdfr was very sick then: and, besides, it
was a very inconvenient place to write letters from.
You "thought to come home the same day, and
stayed a month" that was a sign the place was
agreeable. I should love such a sort of jaunt.
that lad Swenton a little more fixed than he used to
be? I think you like the girl very well. She has left
off her grave airs, I suppose. I am now told lord
Godolphin was buried last night.-O poor Ppt (Mrs.
Johnson). I believe I escaped the new fever, for the
same reason that Ppt did, because I am not well;
but why should DD escape it, pray? She is melthigal,
you know, and ought to have the fever; but I hope
it is now too late, and she wont have it at all.
Some physicians here talk very melancholy, and
think it foreruns the plague, which is actually at
Hamburgh. I hoped Ppt would have done with her
illness; but I think we both have the faculty never
to part with a disorder for ever; we are very constant.
I have had my giddiness twenty-three years by fits.
Will Mrs. Raymond never have done lying-in?
He intends to leave beggars enough; for I dare say
he has squandered away the best part of his fortune
already, and is not out of debt. I had a letter from
him lately.
October 11. Lord-treasurer sent for me yesterday
and the day before to sit with him, because he is not
yet quite well enough to go abroad; and I could not
finish my letter. How the deuce come I to be so
exact in your money? Just seventeen shillings and
eightpence more than due
; I believe you cheat me.
Ppt makes a petition with many apologies. John
Danvers, you know, is lady Giffard's friend. The
rest I never heard of. I tell you what, as things are
at present, I cannot possibly speak to lord-treasurer
for anybody. I need tell you no more. Something
or nothing will be done in my own affairs; if the
former, I will be a solicitor for your sister; if the
latter, I have done with courts for ever. Opportuni-
ties will often fall in my way if I am used well, and
I will then make it my business. It is my delight
to do good offices for people who want and deserve
a Dr. Henry Compton, translated to that see from the bishop-
ric of Oxford, in 1675.
Lady Elizabeth, married to James, the fourth Earl of Bar-
rymore.
it, and a tenfold delight to do it to a relation of Ppt,
whose affairs Pdfr has so at heart. I have taken
down his name and his case (not her case); and
whenever a proper time comes I will do all I can :
that is enough to say when I can do no more; and I
beg your pardon a thousand times that I cannot do
better; I hope the dean of St. Patrick's (Dr. Sterne)
is well of his fever: he has never wrote to me: I am
glad of it; pray don't desire him to write. I have
dated your bill late, because it must not commence,
young women, till the first of November next. 0,
faith, I must be ise; yes faith, must I; else we shall
cheat Pdfr. Are you good housewives and readers?
Are you walkers? I know you are gamesters. Are
you drinkers? Are you
hold, I must go no
further, for fear of abusing fine ladies. Parvisol has
not sent me one word how he set this year's tithes,
Pray, ask whether tithes set well or ill this year.
Bishop of Killaloe tells me wool bears a good rate in
Ireland: but how is corn? I dined yesterday with
lady Orkney, and we sat alone from two till eleven
at night. You have heard of her, I suppose. I
have twenty letters upon my hands, and am so lazy
and so busy, I cannot answer them, and they grow
upon me for several months. Have I any apples at
Laracor? It is strange every year should blast them,
when I took so much care for shelter. Lord Boling-
broke has been idle at his country house this fort-
night, which puts me backward in business I have.
I am got into an ordinary room two pair of stairs,
and see nobody if I can help it; yet some puppiez
have found me out, and my man is not such an
artist as Patrick at denying me. Patrick has been
soliciting to come to me again, but in vain. The
printer has been here with some of the new whims
printed, and has taken up my time. I am just going
out, and can only bid you farewell. Farewell,
dearest little MD, &c.
LETTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH.
London, Oct. 28, 1712.
I HAVE been in physic this month, and have been
better these three weeks. I stop my physic by the
doctor's orders, till he sends me farther directions.
DD grows politician, and longs to hear the peace is
proclaimed. I hope we shall have it soon, for the
Dutch are fully humbled; and Prior is just come
over from France for a few days-I suppose upon
some important affair. I saw him last night, but
had no private talk with him. Stocks rise
Stocks rise upon his
coming. As for my stay in England it cannot be
long now, so tell my friends. The parliament will
not meet till after Christmas, and by that time the
work I am doing will be over, and then nothing
shall keep me. I am very much discontented at
Parvisol, about neglecting to sell my horses, &c.
Lady Masham is not yet brought to-bed; but we
expect it daily. I dined with her to-day. Lord
Bolingbroke returned about two months ago, and
Prior about a week; and goes back (Prior I mean)
in a few days. Who told you of my snuff-box and
pocket? Did I? I had a letter to-day from Dr.
Coghill, desiring me to get Raphoe for dean Sterne,
and the deanery for myself. I shall indeed, I have
such obligations to Sterne. But however, if I am
asked who would make a good bishop, I shall name
him before anybody. Then comes another letter,
desiring I would recommend a provost, supposing
that Pratt (who has been here about a week) will
certainly be promoted; but I believe he will not.
Molyneux would have had me present him too; but
I presented Pratt to lord-treasurer, and truly young
I directly answered him I would not, unless he had
business with him. He is the son of one Mr. Moly-
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
255
neux of Ireland. His father wrote a book; I sup-
pose you know it. Here is the duke of Marlborough
going out of England (lord knows why), which
causes many speculations. Some say he is conscious
of guilt, and dare not stand it. Others think he has
a mind to fling an odium on the government, as who
should say that one who has done such great services
to his country cannot live quietly in it, by reason of
the malice of his enemies. I have helped to patch
up these people together once more. God knows
how long it may last. I was to-day at a trial be-
tween lord Lansdown and lord Carteret, two friends
of mine. It was in the queen's bench, for about six
thousand a-year (or nine I think). I sat under lord
chief justice Parker, and his pen falling down I
reached it up. He made me a low bow; and I
was going to whisper him that "I had done good for
evil; for he would have taken mine from me.' I
told it lord-treasurer and Bolingbroke. Parker would
not have known me, if several lords on the bench,
and in the court, bowing, had not turned everybody's
eyes and set them a whispering. I owe the dog a
spite, and will pay him in two months at farthest, if
I can. So much for that. But you must have chat,
and I must say every sorry thing that comes into my
head. They say the queen will stay a month longer
at Windsor. These devils of Grub-street rogues,
that write the " Flying Post" and Medley" in
one paper, will not be quiet. They are always maul-
ing lord-treasurer, lord Bolingbroke, and me.
have the dog under prosecution, but Bolingbroke is
not active enough; but I hope to swinge him.
He
is a Scotch rogue, one Ridpath. They get out upon
bail, and write on. We take them again, and get
fresh bail; so it goes round. They say some learned
Dutchman has wrote a book, proving by civil law
that we do them wrong by this peace; but I shall
show, by plain reason, that we have suffered the
wrong, and not they. I toil like a horse, and have
hundreds of letters still to read: and squeeze a line
out of each, or at least the seeds of a line. Strafford
goes back to Holland in a day or two, and I hope
our peace is very near. I have about thirty pages
more to write, (that is to be extracted), which will
be sixty in print. It is the most troublesome part
of all, and I cannot keep myself private, though I
stole into a room up two pair of stairs when I came
from Windsor; but my present man has not yet
learned his lesson of denying me discreetly.
We
30. The duchess of Ormond found me out to-day,
and made me dine with her. Lady Masham is still
expecting. She has had a cruel cold. I could not
finish my letter last post for the soul of me. Lord
Bolingbroke has had my papers these six weeks,
and done nothing to them. Is Tisdall yet in the
Is Tisdall yet in the
world? I propose writing controversies, to get a
name with posterity. The duke of Ormond will not
be over these three or four days. I design to make
him join with me in settling all right among our
people. I have ordered the duchess to let me have
an hour with the duke at his first coming, to give
him a true state of persons and things. I believe
the duke of Shrewsbury will hardly be declared
your governor yet; at least, I think so now; but
resolutions alter very often. Duke Hamilton gave
me a pound of snuff to-day, admirably good. I wish
DD had it, and Ppt too, if she likes it. It cost me a
quarter of an hour of his politics, which I was forced
to hear. Lady Orkney is making me a writing-
table of her own contrivance, and a bed nightgown.
She is perfectly kind, like a mother. I think the
devil was in it the other day that I should talk to
*
The Case of Ireland's being bound by Acts of Parliament
In England stated, 8vo. 1698.
her of an ugly squinting cousin of hers, and the
poor lady herself, you know, squints like a dragon.
The other day we had a long discourse with her
about love; and she told us a saying of her sister
Fitzharding, which I thought excellent, "that in
men, desire begets love, and in women, love begets
desire." We have abundance of our old criers still
hereabouts. I hear every morning your women
with the old satin and taffata, &c., the fellow with
old coats, suits, or cloaks. Our weather is abomin-
able of late. We have not two tolerable days in
twenty. I have lost money again at ombre with
lord Orkney and others; yet, after all, this year I
have lost but three-and-twenty shillings; so that,
considering card-money, I am no loser.
Our society hath not yet renewed their meetings.
I hope we shall continue to do some good this
winter; and lord-treasurer promises the academy
for reforming our language shall soon go forward.
I must now go hunt those dry letters for materials.
You will see something very noteable, I hope. So
much for that. God Almighty bless you!
LETTER THE FIFTY-FIFTH.
London, Nov. 15, 1712.
BEFORE this comes to your hands you will have
heard of the most terrible accident that hath almost
ever happened. This morning at eight my man
brought me word that duke Hamilton had fought
with lord Mohun, and killed him, and was brought
home wounded. I immediately sent him to the
duke's house, in St. James's-square; but the porter
could hardly answer for tears, and a great rabble
was about the house. In short, they fought at seven
this morning. The dog Mohun was killed on the
spot;
spot; and, while the duke was over him, Mohun
shortened his sword, stabbed him in at the shoulder
to the heart. The duke was helped toward the
cakehouse by the ring in Hyde-park (where they
fought), and died on the grass, before he could reach
the house; and was brought home in his coach by
eight, while the poor duchess was asleep. Macartney
and one Hamilton were the seconds, who fought
likewise, and are both fled. I am told that a foot-
man of lord Mohun's stabbed duke Hamilton, and
some say Macartney did so too.ª Mohun gave the
affront, and yet sent the challenge. I am infinitely
concerned for the poor duke, who was a frank,
honest, good-natured man. I loved him very well,
and I think he loved me better. He had the greates
mind in the world to have me go with him to France,
but durst not tell it me; and those he did tell said I
could not be spared, which was true. They have
removed the poor duchess to a lodging in the neigh-
bourhood, where I have been with her two hours,
and am just come away. I never saw so melancholy
a scene; for indeed all reasons for real grief belong
to her; nor is it possible for anybody to be a greater
loser in all regards. She has moved my very soul.
The lodging was inconvenient, and they would have
removed her to another; but I would not suffer it,
because it had no room backward, and she must have
been tortured with the noise of the Grub-street scream
ers mentioning her husband's murder in her ears.
I believe you have heard the story of my escape
in opening the band-box sent to the lord-treasurer.b
The quarrel appeared to be forced on the duke, but there
are doubts, that he received foul play.
A report of a conspiracy, by sending the lord-treasurer a
box, with three pistols, whose triggers being tied to the cover,
they would have gone off, at the opening of the box, had not
the same been prevented by Swiit, who, being then in the
room, while his lordship was dressing, suspected something,
and opened the box in such a manner that no mischief was
done.
256
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
The prints have told a thousand lies of it; but at | inquest. We suspect Macartney stabbed the duke
last we gave them a true account of it at length,
printed in "The Evening;" only I would not suffer
them to name me, having been so often named be-
fore, and teased to death with questions. I wonder
how I came to have so much presence of mind,
which is usually not my talent; but so it pleased
God, and I saved myself and him, for there was a
bullet-piece. A gentleman told me that if I had
been killed the Whigs would have called it a judg-
ment, because the barrels were of inkhorns, with
which I had done them so much mischief. There
was a pure Grub-street of it, full of lies and incon-
sistencies. I do not like these things at all, and I
wish myself more and more among my willows.
There is a devilish spirit among people, and the
ministry must exert themselves, or sink. Night,
dearest sirrahs, I'll go to sleep.
16. I thought to have finished this yesterday; but
was too much disturbed. I sent a letter early this
morning to lady Masham, to beg her to write some
comforting words to the poor duchess. I dined to-
day with lady Masham at Kensington, where she is
expecting these two months to lie in.
She has pro-
mised me to get the queen to write to the duchess
kindly on this occasion; and to-morrow I will beg
lord-treasurer to visit and comfort her. I have been
with her two hours again, and find her worse.
Her violences not so frequent, but her melancholy
more formal and settled. She has abundance of wit
and spirit; about thirty-three years old; handsome
and airy, and seldom spared any body that gave her the
least provocation; by which she had many enemies
and few friends. Lady Orkney, her sister-in-law, is
come to town on this occasion, and has been to see
her, and behaved herself with great humanity. They
have been always very ill together, and the poor
duchess could not have patience when people told
her I went often to lady Orkney's. But I am re-
solved to make them friends; for the duchess is now
no more the object of envy, and must learn humility
from the severest master, Affliction. I design to
make the ministry put out a proclamation (if it can
be found proper) against that villain Macartney.
What shall we do with these murderers? I cannot
end this letter to-night, and there is no occasion,
for I cannot send it till Tuesday, and the coroner's
inquest on the duke's body is to be to-morrow. And
I shall know more. But what care you for all this?
Yes, MD is sorry for Pdfr's friends; and this is a
very surprising event. 'Tis late, and I'll go to bed.
This looks like journals. Night.
17. I was to-day at noon with the duchess of
Hamilton again, after I had been with lady Orkney,
and charged her to be kind to her sister in affliction.
The duchess told me lady Orkney had been with
her, and that she did not treat her as gently as she
ought. They hate one another, but I will try to
I have been drawing up a paragraph
patch it up.
for the Post Boy, to be out to-morrow, and as mali-
cious as possible, and very proper for Abel Roper,
the printer of it. I dined at lord-treasurer's at six
in the evening, which is his usual hour of returning
from Windsor: he promised to visit the duchess to-
morrow, and says he has a message to her from the
queen. 'Tis late: I have stayed till past one with
him. So night, dearest MD.
while he was fighting. The queen and lord-trea-
surer are in great concern at this event. I dine to-
day again with lord-treasurer, but must send this
to the post-office before, because else I shall not
have time; he usually keeps me so late. Ben Tooke
bid me write to DD to send her certificate, for it is high
time it should be sent, he says. Pray make Parvisol
write to me, and send me a general account of my
affairs; and let him know I shall be over in spring,
and that by all means he sells the horses. Prior has
kissed the queen's hand, and will return to France
in a few days, and lord Strafford to Holland; and
now the king of Spain has renounced his pretensions
to France, the peace must follow very soon unavoid-
ably. You must no more call Philip duke of Anjou,
for we now acknowledge him king of Spain. Dr.
Pratt tells me you are all mad in Ireland with play-
house frolics and prologues, and I know not what.
The bishop of Clogher and his family are well: they
have heard from you lately, or you from them, I
have forgot which: I dined there the other day, but
the bishop came not till after dinner, and our meat
and drink was very so so. Mr. Vedeau was with
me yesterday, and inquired after you. He was a
lieutenant, and is now broke, and upon half-pay.
He asked me nothing for himself, but wanted an
employment for a friend, "who would give a hand-
some pair of gloves." One Hales sent me up a
letter the other day, which said you lodged in his
house, and therefore desired I would get him a civil
employment. I would not be within, and have
directed my man to give him an answer that I never
open letters brought me by the writers, &c.
I was
complaining to a lady that I wanted to mend an
employment from forty to sixty pounds a-year, in
the salt-office, and thought it hard I could not do it.
She told me one Mr Griffin should do it. And
afterward I met Griffin at her lodgings; and he
was, as I found, one I had been acquainted with.
I named Filby to him, and his abode somewhere
near Nantwich. He said frankly he had formerly
examined the man, and found he understood very
little of his business; but if he heard he mended he
would do what I desired. I will let it rest a while,
and then resume it; and if Ppt writes to Filby, she
may advise him to diligence, &c. I told Griffin
positively I would have it done if the man mended.
This is an account of Ppt's commission to her most
humble servant Pdfr. I have a world of writing to
finish, and little time; these toads of ministers are
so slow in their helps. This makes me sometimes
steal a week from the exactness I used to write to
MD. Farewell, dearest little MD, &c. Smoke the
folding of my letters of late.
LETTER THE FIFTY-SIXTH.
London, December 12, 1712.
HERE is now a strange thing; a letter from MD un.
answered: never was before. I am slower, and MI
is faster but the last was owing to DD's certificate.
Why could it not be sent before, pray now? Is it so
hard for DD to prove she is alive? I protest solemnly
I am not able to write to MD for other business, but
I will renew my journal method next time. I find
it is easier, though it contains nothing but where I
dine, and the occurrences of the day. I will write
now but once in three weeks till this business is off
my hands, which must be in six, I think, at farthest.
O! Ppt, I remember your reprimanding me for med-
18. The committee of council is to sit this after- |
noon upon the affair of duke Hamilton's murder,
and I hope a proclamation will be out against
Macartney. I was just now ('tis now noon) with
the duchess, to let her know lord-treasurer will seedling in other people's affairs; I have enough of it
her. She is mightily indisposed. The jury have
not yet brought in their verdict upon the coroner's
now, with a vengeance. Two women have been
here six times a-picce; I never saw them yet. The
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
257
We
|
only debauch is sitting late where I dine, if I like the
Shrewsbury and Hamilton, and several others. Lord-
treasurer, the duke of Ormond, and lady Orkney, are
all that I see very often. O yes, and lady Masham and
lord Bolingbroke, and one or two private friends. I
make no figure but at court, where I affect to turr
from a lord to the meanest of my acquaintance, and
I love to go there on Sundays to see the world
But, to say the truth, I am growing weary of it. I
dislike a million of things in the course of public
affairs; and if I were to stay here much longer, I am
sûre I should ruin myself with endeavouring to mend
them. I am every day invited into schemes of doing
this, but I cannot find any that will probably suc-
ceed. It is impossible to save people against their
own will; and I have been too much engaged in
patchwork already. Do you understand all this
stuff? No. Well then, you are now returned to
ombre and the dean, and Christmas; I wish you a
very merry one; and pray don't lose your money, nor
play upon Watt Welch's game. Night, sirralis, it
is late, I'll go to sleep; I don't sleep well, and
therefore never dare to drink coffee or tea after
dinner but I am very sleepy in a morning. This
is the effect of wine and years. Night, dearest MD.
first I have despatched with a letter; the other I left Windsor. I make few visits, nor go to levees; my
must see, and tell her I can do nothing for her: she
is wife of one Mr. Connor, an old college acquaint-company. I have almost dropped the duchesses of
ance, and comes on a foolish errand for some old
pretensions that will succeed when I am lord-trea-
surer. I am got up two pair of stairs, in a private
lodging, and have ordered all my friends not to dis-
cover where I am; yet every morning two or three
sets are plaguing me, and my present servant has not
yet his lesson perfect of denying me. I have written
a hundred and thirty pages in folio, to be printed,
and must write thirty more, which will make a large
book of four shillings. I wish I knew an opportu-
nity of sending you some snuff. I will watch who
goes to Ireland, and do it if possible. I had a letter
from Parvisol, and find he has set my livings very
low. Colonel Hamilton, who was second to duke
Hamilton, is tried to-day. I suppose he is come off,
but have not heard. I dined with lord-treasurer,
but left him by nine, and visited some people. Lady
Betty, his daughter, will be married on Monday next
(as I suppose) to the marquis of Caermarthen. I
did not know your country place had been Portraine,
till you told me so in your last. Has Swanton taken
it of Wallis? That Wallis was a grave, wise coxcomb.
God be thanked that Ppt is better of her disorders.
God keep her so. The pamphlet of "Political
Lying" is written by Dr. Arbuthnot, the author of
John Bull; 'tis very pretty, but not so obvious to be
understood. Higgins, first chaplain to duke Hamil-
ton? Why, duke Hamilton never dreamt of a chap-
lain, nor I believe ever heard of Higgins. You are
glorious newsmongers in Ireland-Dean Francis, sir
Richard Levinge, stuff: and Pratt, more stuff.
have lost our fine frost here; and Abel Roper tells
me you have had floods in Dublin; ho, have you?
Oh ho! Swanton seized Portraine, now I understand
you. Ay, ay, now I see Portraine at the top of your
letter. I never minded it before. Now to your
second, No. 36. So, you read one of the Grub-
streets about the band-box. The Whig papers have
abused me about the band-box. God help me, what
could I do? I fairly ventured my life. There is a
particular account of it in the Postboy" and
Evening Post" of that day. Lord-treasurer has
had the seal sent him that sealed the box, and direc-
tions where to find the other pistol in a tree in
St. James's Park, which lord Bolingbroke's mes-
senger found accordingly; but who sent the present
is not yet known. Duke Hamilton avoided the
quarrel as much as possible according to the foppish
rules of honour in practice. What signified your
writing angry to Filby? I hope you said nothing of
hearing from me. Heigh! do you write by candle-
light? naughty, naughty, naughty dallah, a hundred
times, for doing so. O faith, DD, I'll take care of
myself! The queen is in town, and lady Masham's
month of lying-in is within two days of being out.
I was at the christening on Monday. I could not
get the child named Robin, after lord-treasurer; it
is Samuel, after the father. My brother Ormond
sent me some chocolate to-day. I wish you had
share of it: they say it is good for me, and I design
to drink some in the morning. Our society meets
next Thursday, now the queen is in town; and lord-
treasurer assures me that the society for reforming
the language shall soon be established. I have given
away ten shillings to-day to servants. What a stir
is here about your company and visits! Charming
company, no doubt; now, I keep no company, nor
have I any desire to keep any. I never go to a coffee-
house nor a tavern, nor have I touched a card since I
History of the Peace of Utrecht.
A
-Or Portraen, seven miles from Dublin.
VOL. 1.
રી
13. Morning. I am so very sleepy in the morning
that my man wakens me above ten times; and now
I can tell you no news of this day. (Here is a rest-
less dog, crying "cabbages and savoys," plagues me
every morning about this time; he is now at it. I
wish his largest cabbage were sticking in his throat).
I lodge over against the house in Little Rider-street
where DD lodged. Don't you remember, mistress?
To-night I must see the abbé Gautier, to get some
particulars for my history. It was he who was first
employed by France in the overtures of peace, and
I have not had time this month to see him; he is
but a puppy too. Lady Orkney has just sent to
invite me to dinner: she has not given me the bed
nightgown besides, I am come very much off from
writing in bed, though I am doing it this minute;
but I stay till my fire is burnt up. My grate is very
large; two bushels of coal in a week; but I save it
in lodgings. Lord Abercorn is come to London,
and he will plague me, and I can do him uo service.
The duke of Shrewsbury goes in a day or two for
France, perhaps to-day. We shall have a peace very
soon; the Dutch are almost entirely agreed, and if
they stop we shall make it without them; that has
been resolved. One squire Jones, a scoundrel in
my parish, has writ to me, to desire I would engage
Joe Beaumont to give him his interest for parliament-
man for him: pray tell Joe this; and if he designed
to vote for him already, then he may tell Jones that
I received his letter, and that I writ to Joe to do
it. If Joe be engaged for any other, then he may
do what he will; and Parvisol may say he spoke to
Joe, and Joe is engaged, &c.
Joe, and Joe is engaged, &c. I received three pair of
fine thread stockings from Joe lately. Pray, thank him
when you see him; and that I say they are very fine
and good. (I never looked at them yet, but that's
no matter.) This is a fine day. I am ruined with!
coaches and chairs this twelvepenny weather. I
must see my brother Ormond at eleven, and then the
duchess of Hamilton, with whom I doubt I am in
disgrace, not having seen her these ten days. I send
this to-day, and must finish it now; and perhaps
some people may come and hinder me; for it is ten
o'clock (but not shaving-day), and I must be abroad
at eleven. Abbé Gautier sends me word I cannot
see him to-night; p- take him! I don't value
anything but one letter he has of Petecum's show.
S
1
258
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
•
ing the roguery of the Dutch. Did not the "Con-
duct of the Allies" make you great politicians? Faith,
I believe you are not quite so ignorant as I thought
you. I am glad to hear you walked so much in the
country. Does DD ever read to you, young woman?
O, faith! I shall find strange doings when I come
home! Here is somebody coming that I must see
that wants a little place; the son of cousin Rooke's
eldest daughter, that died many years ago.
He is
here. Farewell, dearest MD, FW, Me, Lele.
LETTER THE FIFTY-SEVENTH.
London, Dec. 18, 1712.
OUR society was to meet to-day; but lord Harley,
who was president this week, could not attend, being
gone to Wimbledon with his new brother-in-law,
the young marquis of Caermarthen, who married
lady Betty Harley on Mondy last; and lord-trea-
surer is at Wimbledon too. However, half a dozen
of us met, and I propose our meetings should be
once a fortnight; for, between you and me, we do
no good. It cost me nineteen shillings to-day for
my club dinner; I don't like it. We have terrible
snowy slobbery weather. Lord Abercorn is come to
town, and will see me, whether I will or not. You
know he has a pretence to a dukedom in France
[of Châtelherault], which duke Hamilton was solicit-
ing for; but Abercorn resolves to spoil their title, if
they will not allow him a fourth part; and I have
advised the duchess to compound with him, and have
made the ministry of my opinion. Night, dear sir-
rahs, MD.
19. How agreeable it is in a morning for Pdfr to
write journals again! It is as natural as mother's
milk, now I am got into it. Lord-treasurer is re-
turned from Wimbledon, ('tis not above eight miles
off,) and sent for me to dine with him at five; but
I had the grace to be abroad, and dined with some
others, with honest Ben Tooke, by invitation. The
duchess of Ormond promised me her picture, and
coming home to-night I found hers and the duke's
both in my chamber. Was not that a pretty civil
surprise? Yes, and they are in fine gilded frames
too. I am writing a letter to thank her: which I
I will send to-morrow morning. I will tell her she
is such a prude that she will not let so much as her
picture be alone in a room with a man unless the
duke's be with it; and so forth. We are full of
We are full of
snow and dabbling. Lady Masham has come abroad
these three days, and seen the queen. I dined with
her the other day at her sister Hill's. I hope she
will remove in a few days to her new lodgings at St.
James's from Kensington. Night, dear rogues, MD.
20. 1 lodge up two pair of stairs, have but one
room, and deny myself to everybody almost, yet I
cannot be quiet; and all my mornings are lost with
people who will not take answers below stairs; such
as Dilly, and the bishop, and provost, &c. Lady
Orkney invited me to dinner to-day, which hindered
me from dining with lord-treasurer. This is his
day that his chief friends in the ministry dine with
him. However, I went there about six, and sat
with him till past nine, when they all went off; but
he kept me back, and told me the circumstances of
lady Betty's match. The young fellow has 60,0007.
ready money, three great houses furnished, 7000l.
a-year at present, and about five more after his
father and mother die. I think lady Betty's portion
is not above 80007. I remember Tisdall writ to me
in somebody's letter, or you did it for him, that I
should mention him on occasion to lord Anglesey,
with whom, he said, he had some little acquaintance.
Lord Anglesey was with me to-night at lord-trea-
surer's; and then I asked him about Tisdall, and
described him. He said he never saw him, but
that he had sent him his book. See what it is tc
be a puppy. Pray tell Mr. Walls that lord Angle-
scy thanked me for recommending Clements to him;
that he says he is 20,000l. the better for knowing
Clements. But pray don't let Clements go and
write a letter of thanks, and tell my lord that he
hears so and so, &c. Why, it is but like an Irish
understanding to do so. Sad weather; two shil-
lings in coaches to-day, and yet I am dirty. I am
now going to read over something and correct it.
So, night.
21. Puppies have got a new way of plaguing me.
I find letters directed for ine at lord-treasurer's,
sometimes with enclosed ones to him, and some-
times with projects and sometimes with libels. 1
usually keep them three or four days without open-
ing. I was at court to-day, as I always am on Sun-
days, instead of a coffeehouse, to see my acquaint-
ance. This day se'nuight, after I had been talking
at court with sir William Wyndham, the Spanish
ambassador came to him, and said he heard that was
Dr. Swift, and desired him to tell me that his master,
and the king of France, and the queen, were more
obliged to me than any man in Europe; so we
bowed, and shook hands, &c. I took it very well
of him. I dined with lord-treasurer, and must again
to-morrow, though I had rather not (as DD says);
but now the queen is in town he does not keep me
so late.
I have not had time to see Fanny Manley
since she came; but intend it one of these days.
Her uncle, Jack Manley, I hear, cannot live a
month, which will be a great loss to her father in
Ireland, for I believe he is one of his chief supports.
Our peace now will soon be determined; for lord
Bolingbroke tells me this morning that four pro-
vinces of Holland have complied with the queen,
and we expect the rest will do so immediately.
Night, MD.
He
22. Lord-keeper promised me yesterday the first
convenient living to poor Mr. Gery," who is mar-
ried, and wants some addition to what he has.
is a very worthy creature. I had a letter some weeks
ago from Elwick, who married Betty Gery. It seems
the poor woman died some time last summer. El-
wick grows rich, and purchases lands. I dined with
lord-treasurer to-day, who has engaged me to come
again to-morrow. I gave lord Bolingbroke a poem
of Parnell's. I made Parnell insert some compli-
ments in it to his lordship. He is extremely pleased
with it, and read some parts of it to-day to lord-
treasurer, who liked it as much. And indeed he
outdoes all our poets here a bar's length. Lord Bo-
lingbroke has ordered me to bring him to dinner on
Christmas-day, and I made lord-treasurer promise to
see him; and it may one day do Parnell a kindness.
You know Parnell. I believe I have told you of
that poem. Night, dear MD.
23. This morning I presented one Diaper, a poet,
to lord Bolingbroke, with a new poem, which is a
very good one; and I am to give him a sum of
money from my lord; and I have contrived to make
a parson of him, for he is half one already, being in
deacon's orders, and serves a small cure in the
country; but has a sword at his tail here in town.
It is a poor, little, short wretch, but will do best in
a gown, and we will make lord-keeper give him a
living. Lord Bolingbroke writ to lord-treasurer to
excuse me to-day; so I dined with the former, and
Monteleon, the Spanish ambassador, who made me
many compliments. I stayed till nine, and now it
is past ten, and my man has locked me up, and I
■ Mr. Gery, rector of Letcombe, in Berks, whom Swift high.y
esteemed
Auth of the Sea Eclogues.
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
259
and it was so important, I was like to sleep over it.
I left them at nine, and it is now twelve. Night,
MD.
nave just called to mind that I shall be in disgrace | for I was to justify. So the rest went, and I stayed,
with Tom Leigh. That coxcomb had got into ac-
quaintance with one Eckershall, clerk of the kitchen
to the queen, who was civil to him at Windsor on
my account; for I had done some service to Eckers-
hall.
Leigh teases me to pass an evening at his
lodgings with Eckershall. I put it off several times,
but was forced at last to promise I would come to-
night; and it never was in my head till I was lock-
ed up, and I have called and called, but my man is
gone to bed; so I will write an excuse to-morrow.
I detest that Tom Leigh, and am so formal to him
as I can when I happen to meet him in the park.
The rogue frets me if he knew it. He asked me,
"Why I did not wait on the bishop of Dromore ?”
[Dr. T. Pullen, 1695-1713.] I answered, "I had
not the honour to be acquainted with him, and
would not presume," &c. He takes me seriously, and
says, "The bishop is no proud man," &c. He tells
me of a judge in Ireland that has done ill things. I
ask, Why he is not out?" Says he, "I think the
bishops and you, and I, and the rest of the clergy,
should meet and consult about it." I beg his par-
don, and say, "I cannot be serviceable that way."
He answers,
Yes, everybody may help something."
-Don't you see how curiously he continues to vex
me? for the dog knows that with half a word I could
do more than all of them together. But he only
does it from the pride and envy of his own heart, and
not out of a humorous design of teasing. He is
one of those that would rather a service should not
be done than done by a private man, and of his own
country. You take all this, don't you? Night,
sirrahs! I will go to sleep.
24. I dined to-day with the chancellor of the ex-
chequer [Robert Benson, esq.], in order to look over
some of my papers, but nothing was done. I have
been also meditating between the Hamilton family
and lord Abercorn, to have them compound with
him ; and I believe they will do it. Lord Selkirk,
the late duke's brother, is to be in town, in order to
go to France to make the demands; and the minis-
try are of opinion they will get some satisfaction,
and they empowered me to advise the Hamilton side
to agree with Abercorn, who asks a fourth part, and
will go to France and spoil all if they don't yield it.
Night, sirrahs.
25. I carried Parnell to dine at lord Bolingbroke's,
and he behaved himself very well; and lord Boling-
broke is mightily pleased with him. I was at St.
James's chapel by eight this morning; and church.
and sacrament were done by ten. The queen has
got the gout in her hand, and did not come to church
to-day; and I stayed so long in my chamber that I
missed going to court. Did I tell you that the
queen designs to have a drawing-room and company
every day? Night, dear rogues.
I
26. I was to wish the duke of Ormond a happy
Christmas, and give half-a-crown to his porter. It
will cost me a dozen half-crowns to such fellows.
dined with lord-treasurer, who chid me for being
absent three days. Mighty kind, with a p-! less
of civility and more of interest! We hear Macart-
ney is gone over to Ireland. Was it not comical
Was it not comical
for a gentleman to be set upon by highwaymen, and
to tell them he was Macartney? Upon which they
brought him to a justice of peace, in hopes of a re-
ward, and the rogues were sent to gaol. Was it noti
great presence of mind? But may be you heard of
this already; for there was a Grub-street of it. Lord
Bolingbroke told me I must walk away to-day when
dinner was done, because lord-treasurer, and he, and
another, were to enter upon business; but I said it
was as fit I should know their business as anybody,
27. I dined to-day with general Hill, governor of
Dunkirk. Lady Masham and Mrs. Hill, his two
sisters, were of his company, and there have I been
sitting this evening till eleven, looking over others at
play; for I have left off loving play myself; and I
think Ppt is now a great gamester. I have a great cold
on me, not quite at its height. I have them seldom,
and therefore ought to be patient. I met Mr. Ad-
dison and Pastoral Philips on the Mall to-day, and
took a turn with them; but they both looked terribly
dry and cold. A curse of party! And do you know
I have taken more pains to recommend the Whig
wits to the favour and mercy of the ministers than
any other people. Steele I have kept in his place.
Congreve I have got to be used kindly, and secured.
Rowe I have recommended, and got a promise of a
place. Philips I should certainly have provided for,
if he had not run party mad, and made me withdraw
my recommendations; and I set Addison so right at
first, that he might have been employed, and have
partly secured him the place he has; yet I am worse
used by that faction than any man. Well, go to
cards, sirrah Ppt, and dress the wine and orange,
sirrah Me,a and I'll go sleep. It is late. Night, MD.
28. My cold is so bad that I could not go to
church to-day, nor to court; but I was engaged to
lord Orkney's, with the duke of Ormond, at dinner;
and ventured, because I could cough and spit there as
I please. The duke and lord Arran left us, and I have
been sitting ever since with lord and lady Orkney
till past eleven: and my cold is worse, and makes
me giddy. I hope it is only my cold. O, says Ppt,
everybody is giddy with a cold; I hope it is no
more; but I'll go to-bed, for the fellow has bawled
past twelve. Night, dears.
29. I got out early to-day, and escaped all my
duns. I went to see lord Bolingbroke about some
business, and truly he was gone out too. I dined
in the city upon the broiled leg of a goose and a bit
of bacon with my printer. Did I tell you that I for-
bear printing what I have in hand till the court
decides something about me? I will contract no
more enemies, at least I will not embitter worse
those I have already, till I have got under shelter
and the ministers know my resolution, so that you
may be disappointed in seeing this thing as soon as
you expected. I hear lord-treasurer is out of order.
My cold is very bad. Everybody has one. Night,
dear rogues.
30. I suppose this will be full by Saturday. Duke
of Ormond, lord Arran, and I, dined privately to-
day at an old servant's house of his. The council
made us part at six. One Mrs. Ramsay dined with
us, an old lady of about fifty-five, that we were all
very fond of. I called this evening at lord-treasurer's,
and sat with him two hours. He has been cupped
for a cold, and has been very ill. He cannot dine
with Parnell and me at lord Bolingbroke's to-mor-
row; but says he will see Parnell some other time.
I hoise up Parnell partly to spite the envious Irish
folks here, particularly Tom Leigh. I saw the
bishop of Clogher's family to-day: miss is mighty ill
of a cold, and coughs incessantly. Night, MD.
31. To-day Parnell and I dined with lord Boling-
broke, to correct Parnell's poem. I made him show
all the places he disliked; and when Parnell has
corrected it fully he shall print it. I went this even-
ing to sit with lord-treasurer. He is better, and will
be out in a day or two. I sat with him while the
a Here Me plainly means Dingley
s 2
260
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
young folks went to supper, and then went down,
and there were the young folks nierry together,
having turned lady Oxford up to my lord, and I
stayed with them till twelve. There was the young
couple, lord and lady Caermarthen, and lord and
lady Dupplin, and lord Harley and I; and the old
folks were together above. It looked like what I
have formerly done so often; stealing together from
the old folks, though indeed it was not from poor
'lord-treasurer, who is as young a fellow as any of us:
but lady Oxford is a silly mere old woman. My
cold is still so bad that I have not the least smelling.
I am just got home, and 'tis past twelve; and I'll go
to bed, and settle niy head, heavy as lead. Night,
MD.
January 1. A great many new years to dearest
little MD. Pray God Almighty bless you, and send
you ever happy! I forgot to tell you that yesterday
lord Abercorn was here, teasing me about his French
luchy, and suspecting my partiality to the Hamilton
family in such a whimsical manner, that Dr. Pratt,
who was by, thought he was mad. He was no sooner
gone but lord Orkney sent to know whether he might
come and sit with me half an hour upon some busi-
ness. I returned answer that I would wait on him,
which I did. We discoursed a while, and he left
me with lady Orkney; and in came the earl of Sel-
kirk, whom I had never seen before. He is another
brother of duke Hamilton, and is going to France,
by a power from his mother, the old duchess, to ne-
gotiate their pretensions to the duchy of Châtelhe-
rault. He teased me for two hours in spite of my
teeth, and held my hand when I offered to stir;
would have had me engage the ministry to favour
him against lord Abercorn, and to convince them
that lord Abercorn had no pretensions; and desired
I would also convince lord Abercorn himself so;
and concluded, he was sorry I was a greater friend
to Abercorn than Hamilton. I had no patience,
and used him with some plainness. Am not I
purely handled between a couple of puppies? Ay,
says Ppt, you must be meddling in other folks'
affairs. I appeal to the bishop of Clogher whether
Abercorn did not complain that I would not let him
see me last year, and that he swore he would take
no denial from my servant when he came again.
The ministers gave me leave to tell the Hamilton
family it was their opinion that they ought to agree
with Abercorn. Lord Anglesey was then by, and
told Abercorn; upon which he gravely tells me "I
was commissioned by the ministers, and ought to per-
form my commission," &c.-But I'll have done with
them. I have warned lord-treasurer and lord Bo-
lingbroke to beware of Selkirk's teasing, pox on
him! yet Abercorn rexes me more. The whelp
owes to me all the kind receptions he has had from
the ministry. I dined to-day at lord-treasurer's with
the young folks, and sat with lord-treasurer till nine,
and then was forced to lady Masham's, and sat there
till twelve, talking of affairs, till I am out of humour,
as every one must that knows them inwardly. A
thousand things wrong, most of them easy to mend;
yet our schemes availing at best but little, and some-
One evil, which I twice
times nothing at all.
patched up with the hazard of all the credit I had,
is now spread more than ever. But burn politics,
and send me from courts and ministers! Night,
dearest little MD.
2. I sauntered about this morning, and went with
Dr. Pratt to a picture auction, where I had like to
be drawn in to buy a picture that I was fond of,
but, it seems, was good for nothing. Pratt was there
to buy some pictures for the bishop of Clogher, who
resolves to lay out ten pounds to furnish his house
with curious pieces. We dined with the bishop, I
being by chance disengaged. And this evening I
sate with the bishop of Ossory [Dr. J. Hartstonge],
who is laid up with the gout. The French ambas-
sador, duke d'Aumont, came to town to-night; and
I can-
It
the rabble conducted him home with shouts.
not smell yet, though my cold begins to break.
continues cruel hard frosty weather. Go and be
merry, little sirrahs
3. Lord Dupplin and I went with lord and lady
Orkney this morning at ten to Wimbledon, six miles
off, to see lord and lady Caermarthen. It is much
the finest place about this town. Did you never see
it?
it? I was once there before, about five years ago.
You know lady Caermarthen is lord-treasurer's
daughter, married about three weeks ago. I hope
the young fellow will be a good husband. I must
send this away now. I came back just by nightfall,
cruel cold weather; I'll take my leave.-I forgot
how MD's accounts are. Pray let me know always
timely before MD wants; and pray give the bill on
the other side to Mrs. Brent as usual. I believe I
have not paid her this great while. Go, play at
cards. Love Pufr. Night, MD, FW, Me, Lele.
The six odd shillings, tell Mrs. Brent, are for her
new-year's gift. I am just now told that poor dear
lady Ashburnham, the Duke of Ormond's daughter,
died yesterday at her country house.
creature was with child. She was my greatest
favourite, and I am in excessive concern for her loss.
I hardly knew a more valuable person on all accounts.
You must have heard me talk of her. I am afraid
to see the duke and duchess. She was naturally
very healthy: I fear she has been thrown away for
want of care. Pray condole with me. 'Tis ex-
tremely moving. Her lord is a puppy; and I shall
never think it worth my while to be troubled with
him now he has lost all that was valuable in his
possession; yet I think he used her pretty well. I
hate life when I think it exposed to such accidents;
and to see so many thousand wretches burdening the
earth, while such as her die, makes me think God
did never intend life for a blessing. Farewell.
The poor
LETTER THE FIFTY-EIGHTH.
London, Jan. 4, 1712-13.
I ENDED my last with the melancholy news of poor
The bishop of Clogher
lady Ashburnham's death.
I
1
and Dr. Pratt made me dine with them to-day at lord
Mountjoy's, pursuant to an engagement which 1
had forgot. Lady Mountjoy told me that Macartney
was got safe out of our clutches, for she had spoke
with one who had a letter from him from Holland.
Others say the same thing.-As I left lord Mount-
joy's I saw the duke d'Aumont, the French ambas-
sador, going from lord Bolingbroke's, where he
dined, to have a private audience of the queen.
followed, and went up to court, where there was a
great crowd. I was talking with the duke of Ar-
gyle by the fireside in the bedchamber, when the
ambassador came out from the queen. Argyle pre-
sented me to him and lord Bolingbroke, and we
talked together a while. He is a fine gentleman.
something like the duke of Ormond, and just such
an expensive man. After church to-day I showed
the bishop of Clogher, at court, who was who. Night,
my two dear rogues.
5. Our frost is broke, but it is bloody cold. Lord-
treasurer is recovered, and went out this evening to
the queen.
I dined with lady Oxford, and then sate
with lord-treasurer till he went out. He gave me
a letter from an unknown hand, relating to Dr.
Brown, bishop of Cork, recommending him to a
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
261
better bishopric, as a person who opposed lord
Wharton, and was made a bishop on that account,
celebrating him for a great politician, &c.: in short,
all directly contrary to his character, which I made
bold to explain. What dogs there are in the world!
was to see the poor duke and duchess of Ormond
this morning. The duke was in his public room,
with Mr. Southwell and two more gentlemen. When
Southwell and I were alone with him he talked
something of lord Ashburnham, that he was afraid
the Whigs would get him again. He bore
He bore up as
well as he could, but something falling accidentally
in discourse, the tears were just falling out of his
eyes, and I looked off to give him an opportunity
which he took) of wiping them with his handker-
chief. I never saw anything so moving, nor such a
mixture of greatness of mind, and tenderness, and
discretion. Night, dearest MD.
6. Lord Bolingbroke, and Parnell, and I, dined,
by invitation, with my friend Dartineuf, whom you
have heard me talk of Lord Bolingbroke likes
Parnell mightily; and it is pleasant to see that one
who hardly passed for anything in Ireland makes
his way here with a little friendly forwarding. It is
scurvy rainy weather, and I have hardly been
abroad to-day, nor know anything that passes.
Lord-treasurer is quite recovered, and I hope will
take care to keep himself well. The duchess of
Marlborough is leaving England to go to her duke,
and makes presents of rings to several friends, they
say worth two hundred pounds a-piece. I am sure
she ought to give me one, though the duke pretend-
ed to think me his greatest enemy, and got people
to tell me so, and very mildly to let me know how
gladly he would have me softened toward him. I
bid a lady of his acquaintance and mine let him
know “that I had nindered many a bitter thing
against him; not for his own sake, but because I
thought it looked base; and I desired everything
should be left him except power." Night, MD.
7. I dined with lord and lady Masham to-day,
and this evening played at ombre with Mrs. Van-
homrigh, merely for amusement. The ministers
have got my papers, and will neither read them nor
give them to me; and I can hardly do anything.
Very warm slabby weather, but I made a shift to
get a walk; yet I lost half of it by shaking off lord
Rochester, who is a good, civil, simple man. The
bishop of Ossory will not be bishop of Hereford, to
the great grief of himself and his wife. And what
is MD doing now, I wonder? Playing at cards
with the dean and Mrs. Walls? I think it is not
certain yet that Macartney is escaped. I am plagued
with bad authors, verse and prose, who send me
their books and poems, the vilest trash I ever saw;
but I have given their names to my man, never to
let them see me. I have got weak ink, and it is
very white, and I don't see that it turns black at
all. I'll go to sleep; it is past twelve.-Night, MD.
8. You must understand that I am in my geers,
and have got a chocolate-pot, a present from Mrs.
Ash, of Clogher, and some chocolate from my bro-
ther Ormond, and I treat folks sometimes. I dined
with lord-treasurer at five o'clock to-day, and was
by while he and lord Bolingbroke were at business ;
for it is fit I should know all that passes now, be-
cause, &c. The duke of Ormond employed me to
speak to lord-treasurer to-day about an affair, and I
did so; and the duke spoke himself two hours be-
fore, which vexed me, and I will chide the duke
about it. I'll tell you a good thing: there is not
one of the ministry but what will employ me as
Henry Hyde, son of Laurence earl of Rochester, younger
son of lord chancellor Clareuden, minister of Charles II.
|
| gravely to speak for them to lord-treasurer as if I
were their brother or his; and I do it as gravely,
though I know they do it only because they will not
make themselves uneasy, or had rather I should be
denied than they. I believe our peace will not be
finished these two months; for I think we must
have a return from Spain by a messenger who will
not go till Sunday next. Lord-treasurer has invited
me to dine with him again to-morrow. Your com-
missioner, Keatly, is to be there. Night, dear little
MD.
9. Dr. Pratt drank chocolate with me this morn-
ing, and then we walked. I was yesterday with
him to see lady Betty Butler, grieving for her sister
Ashburnham. The jade was in bed in form, and
she did so cant, she made me sick. I meet Tom
Leigh every day in the park, to preserve his health.
He is as ruddy as a rose, and tells me his bishop of
Dromore recovers very much. That bishop has
been very near dying. To-day's "Examiner”
talks of the play of
talks of the play of "What is it like?" and you
will think it to be mine, and be bit; for I have
no hand in these papers at all. I dined with lord-
treasurer, and shall again to-morrow, which is his
day when all the ministers dine with him. He calls
it whipping-day. It is always on Saturday, and we
do indeed usually rally him about his faults on that
day. I was of the original club, when only poor
lord Rivers, lord-keeper, and lord Bolingbroke came;
but now Ormond, Anglesey, lord-steward, Dart-
mouth, and other rabble intrude, and I scold at it;
but now they pretend as good a title as I; and, in-
deed, many Saturdays I am not there.
The com-
pany being too many, I don't love it. Night, MD.
10. At seven this evening, as we sat after dinner
at lord-treasurer's, a servant said lord Peterborow
was at the door. Lord-treasurer and lord Boling-
broke went out to meet him, and brought him in.
He was just returned from abroad, where he has
been above a year. As soon as he saw me he left
the duke of Ormond and other lords, and ran and
kissed me before he spoke to them; but chid me
terribly for not writing to him, which I never did
this last time he was abroad, not knowing where he
was; and he changed places so often, it was impos-
sible a letter should overtake him. He left England
with a bruise, by his coach overturning, that made
him spit blood, and was so ill we expected every
post to hear of his death; but he outrode it, or out-
drank it, or something, and is come home lustier
than ever. He is at least sixty, and has more spirits
than any young fellow I know of in England.
has got the old Oxford regiment of horse, and I be-
lieve will have a garter. I love the hang-dog dearly.
Night, dear MD.
He
11. The court was crammed to-day to see the
French ambassador, but he did not come. Did I
never tell you that I go to court on Sundays as to a
coffeehouse, to see acquaintance whom I should not
otherwise see twice a-year? The provost and I dine
with Ned Southwell, by appointment, in order to
settle your kingdom, if my scheme can be followed;
but I doubt our ministry will be too tedious. You
must certainly have a new parliament; but they
would have that a secret yet. Our parliament here
will be prorogued for three weeks. Those puppies
the Dutch will not yet come in, though they pretend
to submit to the queen in everything; but they
would fain try first how our session begins, in hopes
to embroil us in the house of lords: and if my ad-
vice had been taken the session should have begun,
and we would have trusted the parliament to ap-
prove the steps already made toward the peace, and
had an address perhaps from them to conclude with-
262
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
out the Dutch, if they would not agree.
Others are
of my mind, but it is not reckoned so safe, it seems;
yet I doubt whether the peace will be ready so soon
as three weeks, but that is a secret. Night, MD.
12. Pratt and I walked into the city to one Bate-
man's, a famous bookseller, for old books. There I
laid out four pounds like a fool, and we dined at a
hedge ale-house, for two shillings and twopence,
like emperors.
Let me see, I bought Plutarch, two
volumes, for thirty shillings, &c. Well, I'll tell you
no more; you don't understand Greek. We have
We have
no news, and I have nothing more to say to-day, and
I can't finish work. These ministers will not find
time to do what I would have them. So night, own
dear dallars.
I
13. I was to have dined to-day with lord-keeper,
but would not, because that brute sir John Walter
was to be one of the company. You
You may remember
he railed at me last summer was twelvemonth at
Windsor, and has never begged my pardon, though he
promised to do it; and lord Mansel, who was one of the
company, would certainly have set us together by the
ears, out of pure roguish mischief. So I dined with
lord-treasurer, where there was none but lord Boling-
broke. I stayed till eight, and then went to lady
Orkney's, who has been sick and sat with her till
twelve. The parliament was prorogued to-day, as I
told you, for three weeks. Our weather is very bad
and slobbery, and I shall spoil my new hat (I have
bought a new hat), or empty my pockets. Does
Does
Hawkshaw pay the interest he owes? Lord Aber-
corn plagues me to death. I have now not above
six people to provide for, and about as many to do
good offices to; and thrice as many that I will do
nothing for; nor can I if I would. Night, dear MD.
14. To-day I took the circle of morning visits.
went to the duchess of Ormond, and there was she,
and lady Betty, and lord Ashburnham together:
this was the first time the mother and daughter saw
each other since lady Ashburnham's death. They
were both in tears, and I chid them for being toge-
ther, and made lady Betty go to her own chamber;
then sat a while with the duchess, and went after
lady Betty, and all was well. There is something
of farce in all these mournings, let them be ever so
serious. People will pretend to grieve more than
they really do, and that takes off from their true
grief. I then went to the duchess of Hamilton, who
never grieved, but raged, and stormed, and railed.
She is pretty quiet now, but has a diabolical temper.
Lord-keeper and his son, and their two ladies, and
I dined to-day with Mr. Cæsar, treasurer of the navy,
at his house in the city, where he keeps his office.
We happened to talk of Brutus, and I said something
in his praise, when it struck me immediately that I
had made a blunder in doing so; and, therefore, I
recollected myself, and said, Mr. Cæsar, I beg your
pardon." So we laughed, &c. Night, my own
dearest little rogues, MD.
15. I forgot to tell you that last night I had a
present sent me (I found it, when I came home, in
my chamber) of the finest wild fowl I ever saw, with
the vilest letter, and from the vilest poet, in the
world, who sent it me as a bribe to get him an em-
ployment. I knew not where the scoundrel lived,
so I could not send them back; and therefore I
gave them away as freely as I got them, and have
ordered my man never to let up the poet when he
comes. The rogue should have kept the wings at
least for his muse. One of his fowls was a large
capon pheasant, as fat as a pullet. I ate share of it
to-day with a friend. We have now a drawing-room
every Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, at one
o'clock. The queen does not come out; but all her
ministers, foreigners, and persons of quality are at
it. I was there today; and as lord-treasurer came
toward me I avoided him, and he hunted me thrice
about the room. I affect never to take notice of
bim at church or court. He knows it, for I have
told him so; and to-night, at lord Masham's, he
gave an account of it to the company; but my reasons
are, that people seeing me speak to him causes a great
deal of teasing. I tell you what comes into my head,
that I never knew whether you were Whigs or
Tories, and I value our conversation the more that
it never turned on that subject. I have a fancy that
Ppt is a Tory and a rigid one. I don't know why;
but methinks she looks like one, and DD a sort of a
trimmer. Am I right? I gave the Examiner a hint
about this prorogation, and to praise the queen for
her tenderness to the Dutch in giving them still more
time to submit. It fitted the occasions at present.
Night, MD.
16. I was busy to-day at the secretary's office, and
stayed till past three. The duke of Ormond and I
were to dine at lord Orkney's. The duke was at
the committee, so I thought all was safe. When 1
went there they had almost dined; for the duke had
sent to excuse himself, which I never knew. I came
home at seven, and began a little whim, which just
came into my head, and will make a threepenny
pamphlet. It shall be finished and out in a week;
and if it succeed, you shall know what it is; other-
wise, not. I cannot send this to-morrow, and will
put it off till next Saturday, because I have much
business. So my journals shall be short, and Ppt
must have patience.
17. This rogue Parnell has not yet corrected his
poem, and I would fain have it out.
I dined to-day
with lord-treasurer and his Saturday's company, nine
of us in all. They went away at seven, and lord-
treasurer and I sat talking an hour after. After
dinner he was talking to the lords about the specch
the queen must make when the parliament meets.
He asked me how I would make it? I was going
to be serious, because it was seriously put; but I
turned it to a jest. And because they had been
speaking of the duchess of Marlborough going to
Flanders after the duke, I said, the speech should
begin thus :-"My lords and gentlemen, In order to
my own quict, and that of my subjects, I have thought
fit to send the duchess of Marlborough abroad after
the duke.' This took well, and turned off the dis-
course. I must tell you I do not at all like the present
situation of affairs, and remember I tell you so.
Things must be on another foot, or we are all undone.
I hate this driving always to an inch. Night, MD.
18. We had a mighty full court to-day. Dilly
was with me at the French church, and edified
mightily. Duke of Ormond and I dined at lord
Orkney's; but I left them at seven, and came home
to my whim. I have made a great progress. My
large Treatise stands stock still. Some think it too
dangerous to publish, and would have me print only
what relates to the peace. I cannot tell what I shall
do. The bishop of Dromore is dying. They thought
yesterday he could not live two hours; yet he is
still alive, but is utterly past all hopes. Go to cards.
Night, dear MD.
19. I was this morning to see the duke aud
duchess of Ormond. The duke d'Aumont came in
while I was with the duke of Ormond, and we com-
ulimented each other like dragons. A poor fellow
called at the door where I lodge, with a parcel of
oranges for a present for me. I bid my man learn
what his name was, and whence it camie.
word his name was Bun, and that I knew him very
His History of the Peace of Utrecht.
He sent
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
263
well. I bid my man tell him I was busy, and he
could not speak to me; and not to let him leave his
oranges. I know no more of it, but I am sure I
never heard the name, and I shall take no such pre-
sents from strangers. Perhaps he might be only
some beggar, who wanted a little money. Perhaps
it might be something worse. Let them keep their
poison for their rats. I don't love it. That blot is
a blunder. Night, dear MD.
20. A committee of our society dined to-day with
the chancellor of the exchequer. Our society does
not meet now as usual, for which I am blamed; but
till lord-treasurer will agree to give us money and
employments to bestow, I am averse to it; and he
gives us nothing but promises. Bishop of Dromore
is still alive, and that is all. We expect every day
he will die, and then Tom Leigh must go back,
which is one good thing to the town. I believe
Pratt will drive at one of these bishoprics.
English bishoprica is not yet disposed of. I believe
the peace will not be ready by the session.
Our
21. I was to-day with my printer, to give him a
little pamphlet I had written, but not politics. It
will be out by Monday. If it succeeds, I will tell
you of it; otherwise not We had a prodigious
thaw to-day, as bad as rain; yet I walked like a
good boy all the way. The bishop of Dromore still
draws breath, but cannot live two days longer. My
large book lies flat. Some people think a great part
of it ought not to be now printed. I believe I told
you so before. This letter shall not go till Saturday,
which makes up the three weeks exactly, and I allow
MD six weeks, which are now almost out; so you
must know I expect a letter very soon, and that MD
is very well; and so night, dear MD.
22. This is one of our court-days, and I was there.
I told you there is a drawing-room Wednesday,
Thursday, and Saturday. The Hamiltons and
Abercorns have done teasing me. The latter, I
hear, is actually going to France. Lord-treasurer
quarrelled with me at court for being four days
without dining with him; so I dined there to-day,
and he has at last fallen in with my project (as he
calls it) of coining halfpence and farthings, with
devices, like medals, in honour of the queen, every
year changing the device. I wish it may be done.
Night, MD.
23. Duke of Ormond and I appointed to dine with
Ned Southwell to-day, to talk of settling your affairs
of parliament in Ireland, but there was a mixture of
company, and the duke of Ormond was in haste,
and nothing was done. If your parliament meets
this summer it must be a new one; but I find some
are of opinion there should be none at all these two
years. I will trouble myself no more about it. My
design was to serve the duke of Ormond. Dr. Pratt
and I sat this evening with the bishop of Clogher,
and played at ombre for threepence. That I sup-
pose is but low with you. I found, at coming home,
a letter from MD, No. 37.
I shall not answer it
this bout, but will the next. I am sorry for poor
Ppt. Pray walk if you can. I have got a terrible
new cold before my old one was quite gone, and
don't know how. I shall have DD's money soon
from the exchequer. The bishop of Dromore is dead
now at last. Night, dear MD.
24. I was at court to-day, and it was comical to
see lord Abercorn bowing to me, but not speaking,
and lord Selkirk the same. I dined with lord-trea-
surer and his Saturday club, and sat with him two
hours after the rest were gone, and spoke freer to
him of affairs than I am afraid others do who might
A
Hereford, vacant by the death of Dr. II. Humphreys, 20th
November, 1712.
do more good. All his friends repine, and shrug
their shoulders, but will not deal with him so fieely
as they ought. It is an odd business; the parliament
just going to sit, and no employ ments given. They
say they will give them in a few days. There is a
new bishop made of Hereford; so Ossory is disap-
pointed. I hinted so to his friends two months ago,
to make him leave off deluding himself, and being
indiscreet, as he was. I have just time to send this
without giving it to the bellman. My second cold
is better now. Night, dearest little MD, FW, Me,
Lele.
LETTER THE FIFTY-NINTH.
London, Sunday, Jan. 25, 1712-13.
We had such a terrible storm to-day, that, going to
lord Bolingbroke's, I saw a hundred tiles fallen
down; and one swinger fell about forty yards before
me, that would have killed a horse: sc, after church
and court, I walked through the park, and took a
chair to lord-treasurer's. Next door to his house a
tin chimney-top had fallen down with a hundred
bricks. It is grown calm this evening. I wonder
I hate it as much as
had you such a wind to-day?
any hog does. Lord-treasurer has engaged me to
dine again with him to-morrow. He has those
tricks sometimes of inviting me from day to day,
which I am forced to break through.
through. My little
pamphlet is out: 'tis not politics. If it takes, I say
again you shall hear of it.
26. This morning I felt a little touch of giddiness,
which has disordered and weakened me with its
After dinner at lord-
ugly remains all this day.
treasurer's, the French ambassador, duke d'Aumont,
sent lord-treasurer word that his house was burnt
rooms,
down to the ground. It took fire in the upper
while he was at dinner with Monteleon, the
Spanish ambassador, and other persons; and soon
after lord Bolingbroke came to us with the same
story. We are full of speculations upon it, but I
believe it was the carelessness of his French rascally
servants. It is odd that this very lord Somers,
Wharton, Sunderland, Halifax, and the whole club
of Whig lords, dined at Pontac's in the city, as I re-
ceived private notice. They have some damned
design. I tell you another odd thing: I was ob-
serving it to lord-treasurer that he was stabbed on
the day king William died; and the day I saved his
life by opening the hand-box was king William's
birth-day. My friend Mr. Lewis [secretary to the
earl of Dartmouth] has had a lie spread on him by
the mistake of a man who went to another of his
name to give him thanks for passing his privy seal
That other Lewis spread
to come from France.
about that the man brought him thanks from lord
Perth and lord Melfort (two lords with the pre-
The lords will
tender), for his great services, &c.
examine that other Lewis to-morrow in council
and I believe you will hear of it in the prints, for I
will make Abel Roper give a relation of it. Pray
tell me if it be necessary to write a little plainer, for
I looked over a bit of my last letter, and could
hardly read it. I'll mend my hand, if you please;
but "
you are more used to it nor I," as Mr. Ray-
mond says.
says. Night, MD.
27. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer: this
makes four days together; and he has invited me
again to-morrow, but I absolutely refused him. I
was this evening at a christening with him of lord
Dupplin's daughter. He went away at ten; but
they kept me and some others till past twelve; so
you may be sure 'tis late, as they say. We have
now stronger suspicions that the duke d'Aumout's
264
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
house was set on fire by malice. I was to-day to
see lord-keeper, who has quite lost his voice with a
cold. There Dr. Radcliffe told me that it was the
ambassador's confectioner set the house on fire by
boiling sugar, and going down and letting it boil
over. Yet others still think differently; so I know
not what to judge. Night, my own dearest MD.
28. I was to-day at court, where the ambassador
talked to me as if he did not suspect any design in
burning d'Aumont's house; but the abbé Gautier,
secretary for France here, said quite otherwise; and
that d'Aumont had a letter the very same day to let
him know his house should be burnt, and tells
several other circumstances too tedious to write.
One is, that a fellow mending the tiles just when
the fire broke out saw a pot with wildfire in the
room. I dined with lord Orkney. Neither lord
Abercorn nor Selkirk will now speak with me. I
have disobliged both sides. Night, dear MD.
29. Our society met to-day, fourteen of us, and at
a tavern. We now resolve to meet but once a fort-
night, and have a committee every other week of
six or seven, to consult about doing some good. I
proposed another message to lord-treasurer by three
principal members, to give a hundred guineas to a
certain person, and they are to urge it as well as
they can. We also raised sixty guineas upon our
own society; but I made them do it by assessors,
and I was one of them, and we fitted our tax to the
several estates. The duke of Ormond pays ten
guineas, and I the third part of a guinea; at that
rate they may tax as often as they please. Well,
but I must answer your letter, young women: not
yet; it is late now, and I can't find it. Night,
dearest MD.
30. I have drank Spa waters these two or three
days; but they do not pass, and make me very
giddy. I am not well; faith, I will take them no
more. I sauntered after church with the provost
to-day, to see a library to be sold, and dined at five
with lord Orkney. We still think there was malice
in burning d'Aumont's house. I hear little Harrison
is come over; it was he I sent to Utrecht. He is
now queen's secretary to the embassy, and has
brought with him the Barrier Treaty, as it is now
corrected by us, and yielded to by the Dutch, which
was the greatest difficulty to retard the peace.
hope he will bring over the peace a month hence,
for we will send him back as soon as possible. I
long to see the little brat, my own creature. His
I
pay is in all a thousand pounds a-year, and they
have never paid him a groat, though I have teased
their hearts out. He must be three or four hundred
pounds in debt at least. Poor brat! Let me go to
bed, sirrals. Night, dear MD.
31. Harrison was with me this morning; we
talked three hours, and then I carried him to court.
When we went down to the door of my lodging I
found a coach waited for him. I chid him for it,
but he whispered me it was impossible to do other-
wise; and in the coach he told me he had not one
farthing in his pocket to pay it; and therefore took
the coach for the whole day, and intended to borrow
money somewhere or other. So there was the
queen's minister intrusted in affairs of the greatest
importance, without a shilling in his pocket to pay a
coach! I paid him while he was with me seven
guineas, in part of a dozen of shirts he bought me in
Holland. I presented him to the duke of Ormond
and several lords at court; and I contrived it so
that lord-treasurer came to me and asked (I had
Paruell by me) whether that was Dr. Parnell, and
came up and spoke to him with great kindness, and
invited him to his house. I value myself upon
|
|
making the ministry desire to be acquainted with
Parnell, and not Parnell with the ministry. Hia
poem is almost fully corrected, and shall be soon
out. Here is enough for to-day: only to tell you
that I was in the city with my printer to alter an
Examiner about my friend Lewis's story, which will
be told with remarks.
Sunday, February 1. I could do nothing till to-
day about the Examiner, but the printer came this
morning, and I dictated to him what was fit to be
said, and then Mr. Lewis came and corrected it as
he would have it; so I was neither at church nor
court.
The duke of Ormond and I dined at lord
Orkney's. I left them at seven, and sat with sir
Andrew Fountaine, who has a very bad sore leg,
for which he designs to go to France. Here is a
week gone, and one side of this letter not finished.
O, but I will write now but once in three weeks.-
Yes, faith, this shall go sooner. The parliament is
to sit on the third, but will adjourn for three or four
days, for the queen is laid up with the gout, and
both speakers out of order, though one of them, the
lord-keeper, is almost well. I spoke to the duke of
Ormond a good deal about Ireland. We do not
altogether agree, nor am I judge enough of Irish
affairs; but I will speak to lord-treasurer to-morrow,
that we three may settle some way or other.
2. I had a letter soine days ago from Moll Gery;
her name is now Wigmore, and her husband is turned
parson. She desires nothing but that I would get
lord-keeper to give him a living; but I will send her
no answer, though she desires it much. She still
makes mantuas at Farnham. It rained all this day,
and Dilly came to me, and was coaching it into the
city; so I went with him for a shaking, because
it would not cost me a farthing. There I met
my friend Stratford, the merchant, who is going
abroad to gather up his debts, and be clear in the
world. He begged that I would dine with some
merchant friends of ours there, because it was the last
time I should see him; so I did, and thought to have
seen lord-treasurer in the evening, but he happened
to go out at five; so I visited some friends and came
home. And now I have the greatest part of your
letter to answer; and yet I will not do it to-night,
say what you please. The parliament meets to-
morrow, but will be prorogued for a fortnight; which
disappointment will,
disappointment will, I believe, vex abundance of
them, though they are not Whigs; for they are forced
to be in town at expense for nothing: but we want
an answer from Spain before we are sure of every
thing being
thing being right for the peace; and God knows
whether we can have that answer this month. It is
a most ticklish juncture of affairs; we are always
driving to an inch: I am weary of it. Night, MD.
3. The parliament met, and was prorogued, as I
said, and I found some cloudy faces, and heard some
grumbling. We have got over all our difficulties
with France, I think. They have now settled all the
articles of commerce between us and them, wherein
they were very much disposed to play the rogue if
we had not held them to; and this business we wait
for from Spain is to prevent some other rogueries of
the French, who are finding an evasion to trade to
the Spanish West Indies: but I hope we shall prevent
it. I dined with lord-treasurer, and he was in good
humour enough. I gave him that part of my book
in manuscript to read where his character was, and
drawn pretty freely. He was reading and correcting
it with his pencil, when the bishop of St. David's
[Dr. P. Blise] (now removing to Hereford) came
and interrupted us. I left him at eight, and sat till
twelve with the provost and bishop of Clogher.
1
[Wednesday] 4. I was to-day at court, but kept
JOURNAL 10 STELLA.
265
I
out of lord-treasurer's way, because I was engaged
to the duke of Ormond, where I dined, and, I think,
ate and drank too much. I sat this evening with
lady Masham, and then with lord Masham and lord-
It was last year, you
treasurer at lord Masham's.
may remember, my constant evening place. I saw
lady Jersey with lady Masham, who has been laying
out for my acquaintance, and has forced a promise
from me to drink chocolate with her in a day or two,
which I know not whether I shall perform (I have
just mended my pen you see), for I do not much
like her character; but she is very malicious, and
therefore I think I must keep fair with her.
I can-
not send this letter till Saturday next, I find; so
will answer yours now. I see no different days of
the month; yet it is dated January 3. So it was
long a coming. I did not write to Dr. Coghill that
I would have nothing in Ireland; but that I was
soliciting nothing anywhere, and that is true.
have named Dr. Sterne to lord-treasurer, lord Boling-
broke, and the duke of Ormond, for a bishopric, and
I did it heartily. I know not what will c me of it;
but I tell you as a great secret that I have made the
duke of Ormond promise me to recommend nobody
till he tells me, and this for some reasons too long to
mention. My head is still in no good order.
heartily sorry for Ppt. I am sure her head is good
for **** I'll answer more to-morrow. Night,
dearest MD.
I am
I
5 [6]. I must go on with your letter. I dined
to-day with sir Andrew Fountaine and the provost,
and played at ombre with him all the afternoon. I
won, yet sir Andrew is an admirable player. Lord
Fembroke came in, and I gave him three or four
scurvy Dilly puns, that begin with an if. Well, but
your letter, well, let me see.-No; I believe I shall
write no more this good while, nor publish what I
have done. **** I did not suspect you would tell
Filby. You are so
Turns and visitations-
what are those? I'll preach and visit as much for
Mr. Walls. Pray God mend people's health; mine
is but very indifferent. I have left off Spa water;
it makes my legs swell. Night, dearest MD.
*****
•
6 [7]. This is the queen's birthday, and I never
saw it celebrated with so much hurry and fine
clothes. I went to court to see them, and I dined
with lord-keeper, where the ladies were fine to ad-
miration. I passed the evening at Mrs. Vanhom-
righ's, and came home pretty early to answer your
letter again. Pray God keep the queen. She was
very ill about ten days ago, and had the gout in her
stomach.
When I came from lord-keeper's I called
at lord-treasurer's, because I heard he was very fine,
and that was a new thing; and it was true, for his
coat and waistcoat were embroidered. I have scen
the provost often since, and never spoke to him to
speak to the Temples about Daniel Carr, nor will;
I don't care to do it. I have writ lately to Parvisol.
You did well to let him make up his accompts. All
things grow dear in Ireland, but corn to the parsons;
for my livings are fallen much this year by Parvisol's
account. Night, dearest rogues, MD.
7 [8]. I was at court to-day, but saw no birth-
day clothes; the great folks never wear them above
once or twice. I dined with lord Orkney and sat
the evening with sir Andrew Fountaine, whose leg
is in a very dubious condition. Pray let me know
when DD's money is near due: always let me know
it beforehand. This, I believe, will hardly go till
Saturday; for I tell you what, being not very well,
1 dare not study much: so I let company come in a
morning, and the afternoon pass in dining and sitting
somewhere. Lord-treasurer is angry if I don't dine
with him every second day, and I cannot part with
|
him till late: he kept me last night till near twelve,
Our weather is constant rain above these two months,
which hinders walking, so that our spring is not like
yours. I have not seen Fanny Manley yet; I can-
not find time. I am in rebellion with all my ac
quaintance, but I will mend with my health and the
weather. Clogher make a figure! Clogher make a
Colds! why we have been all dying with
colds; but now they are a little off, and my second
is almost off.
In-
I can do nothing for Swanton.
deed it is a thing impossible, and wholly out of my
way. If he buys, he must buy. So now I have
answered your letter; and there's an end of that
now; and I'll say no more, but bid you night, dear
MD.
8 [9]. It was terribly rainy to-day from morning
till night. I intended to have dined with lord-
treasurer, but went to see sir Andrew Fountaine,
and he kept me to dinner, which saved coach-hire,
and I stayed with him all the afternoon, and lost
thirteen shillings and sixpence at ombre. There was
management! and lord-treasurer will chide; but I'll
dine with him to-morrow. The bishop of Clogher's
daughter has been ill some days, and it proves the
small-pox. She is very full, but it comes out well,
and they apprehend no danger. Lady Orkney has
given me her picture, a very fine original of sir.
Godfrey Kneller's; it is now a mending. He has
favoured her squint adm.rably; and you know I
love a cast in the eye. I was to see lady Worsley
to-day, who is just come to town; she is full of rheu
matic pains. All my acquaintance grow old and
sickly. She lodges in the very house in King-street,
between St. James's-street and St. James's-square,
where DD's brother bought the sweetbread when
Short
I lodged there and DD came to see me.
****. Night, MD.
9 [10]. I thought to have dined with lord-trea-
surer to-day, but he dined abroad at Tom Harley's,
so I dined at lord Masham's, and was winning all I
had lost playing with lady Masham at crown piquet,
when we went to pools, and I lost it again. Lord-
treasurer came in to us and chid me for not following
him to Tom Harley's. Miss Ashe is still the same,
and they think her not in danger; my man calls
the redaily after I am gone out, and tells me at night.
I was this morning to see lady Jersey, and we have
made twenty parties about dining together, and I
shall hardly keep one of them. She is reduced, after
all her greatness, to seven servants and a small house,
and no coach. I like her tolerably as yet. Night,
MD.
10 [11]. I made visits this morning to the duke
and duchess of Ormond, and lady Betty, and the
duchess of Hamilton. When I was writing this
near twelve o'clock the duchess of Hamilton sent to
have me dine with her to-morrow. I am forced
to give my answer through the door, for my man has
got the key and is gone to bed, but I cannot obey
her, for our society meets to-morrow.) I stole away
from lord-treasurer by eight, and intended to have
passed the evening with sir Thomas Clarges and his
lady, but met them in another place, and have there
sate till now. My head has not been ill to-day. I
was at court, and made lord Mansel walk with me
in the Park before we went to dinner.-Yesterday
and to-day have been fair, but yet it rained all last
night. I saw Sterne staring at court to-day. He
has been often to see me, he says, but my man has
not yet let him up. He is in deep mourning; I
hope it is not for his wife. I did not ask him.
Night, MD.
12. I have reckoned days wrong all this while,
• IIe had omitted Thursday the fifth.
266
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
for this is the twelfth. I do not know when I lost
it. I dined to-day with our society, the greatest
dinner I have ever seen. It was at Jack Hill's, the
governor of Dunkirk.
I gave an account of sixty
guineas I had collected, and am to give them away
to two authors to-morrow, and lord-treasurer has
promised me a hundred pounds to reward some
others. I found a letter on my table last night to tell
me that poor little Harrison, the queen's secretary,
that came lately from Utrecht with the Barrier
Treaty, was ill, and desired to see me at night, but
it was late, and I could not go till to-day. I have
often mentioned him in my letters you may re-
member. **** I went in the morning and found
him mighty ill, and got thirty guineas for him from
lord Bolingbroke, and an order for a hundred pounds
from the treasury, to be paid him to-morrow, and I
have got him removed to Knightsbridge for the air.
He has a fever and inflammation on his lungs, but I
hope will do well. Night, MD.
13. I was to see a poor poet, one Mr. Diaper, in
a nasty garret very sick. I gave him twenty gui-
neas from lord Bolingbroke, and disposed the other
sixty to two other authors, and desired a friend to
receive the hundred pounds for poor Harrison, and
will carry it to him to-morrow morning. I sent to
see how he did, and he is extremely ill; and I am
very much afflicted for him, as he is my own crea-
ture, and in a very honourable post, and very worthy
of it. I dined in the city. I am much concerned
for this poor lad. His mother and sister attend
him, and he wants nothing. Night, dear MD.
14. I took Parnell this morning, and we walked
to see poor Harrison. I had the hundred pounds in
my pocket. I told Parnell I was afraid to knock at
the door; my mind misgave me. I knocked, and
his man in tears told me his master was dead an hour
before. Think what grief this is to me! I went to
his mother, and have been ordering things for his
funeral, with as little cost as possible, to-morrow at
ten at night. Lord-treasurer was much concerned.
when I told him. I could not dine with lord-
treasurer, nor anywhere else; but got a bit of meat
toward evening. No loss ever grieved me so much :
poor creature! Pray God Almighty bless poor MD.
Adieu. I send this away to-night, and am sorry it
must go while I am in so much grief.
LETTER THE SIXTIETH.
London, Feb. 15, 1712-13.
I DINED to-day with Mr. Rowe, and a projector, who
has been teasing me with twenty schemes to get
grants; and I don't like one of them; and, besides,
I was out of humour for the loss of poor Harrison.
At ten this night I was at his funeral, which I or-
dered to be as private as possible. We had but one
coach with four of us; and when it was carrying us
home after the funeral, the braces broke; and we
were forced to sit in it, and have it held up, till my
man went for chairs, at eleven at night in terrible
rain. I am come home very melancholy, and will
go to bed. Night, dearest MD.
16. I dined to-day with lord Dupplin and some
company to divert me; but left them early, and have
been reading a book for amusement. I shall never
have courage again to care for making anybody's
fortune. The parliament meets to-morrow, and will
be prorogued another fortnight, at which several of
both parties were angry; but it cannot be helped,
though everything about the peace is past all danger.
I never saw such a continuance of rainy weather.
We have not had two fair days together these ten
weeks I have not dined with lord-treasurer these
four days, nor can I till Saturday; for I have several
engagements till then, and he will chide me to some
purpose. I am perplexed with this hundred pounds
I cannot
of poor Harrison's, what to do with it.
pay his relatious till they administer, for he is much
in debt; but I will have the staff in my own hands,
and venture nothing. Night, dear MD.
17. Lady Jersey and I dined by appointment to-
day with lord Bolingbroke. He is sending his
brother to succeed Mr. Harrison. It is the prettiest
post in Europe for a young gentleman. I lost my
money at ombre sadly; I make a thousand blunders
at it. I play but threepenny ombre; but it is what
you call running ombre. Lady Clarges, and a drab
I hate, won a dozen shillings of me last night. The
parliament was prorogued to-day; and people.
grumble; and the good of it is, the peace cannot be
finished by the time they meet, there are so many
fiddling things to do. Is Ppt an ombre lady yet?
You know all the tricks of it now, I suppose.
reckon you have all your cards from France, for ours
pay sixpence a pack taxes, which goes deep to the
box. I have given away all my Spa water, and take
some nasty steel drops, and my head has been better
this week past. I send every day to see how Miss
Ashe does she is very full, they say, but in no
danger. I fear she will lose some of her beauty.
The son lies out of the house. I wish he had them
too, while he is so young.-Night MD.
:
I
18. The earl of Abingdon had been teasing me
these three months to dine with him; and this day
was appointed about a week ago, and I named my
company; lord Stawell, colonel Disney, and Dr.
Arbuthnot; but the two last slipped out their necks,
and left Stawell and me to dine there. We did not
dine till seven, because it is Ash Wednesday. We
had nothing but fish, which lord Stawell could not
eat, and got a broiled leg of a turkey. Our wine
was poison; yet the puppy has twelve thousand
pounds a-year. His carps were raw, and his can-
dles tallow.
He shall not catch me in baste again,
and everybody has laughed at me for dining with
him. I was to-day to let Harrison's mother know
I could not pay till she administers; which she will
do.
I believe she is an old devil, and her daughter
There were more Whigs to-day at court
than Tories. I believe they think the peace must
be made, and so come to please the queen. She is
still lame with the gout.
a
19. I was at court to-day, to speak to lord Boling-
broke to look over Parnell's poem since it is cor-
rected; and Parnell and I dined with him, and he
has shown him three or four more places to alter a
little. Lady Bolingbroke came down to us while we
were at dinner, and Parnell stared at her as if she
were a goddess. I thought she was like Parnell's
wife, and he thought so too. Parnell is much pleased
with lord Bolingbroke's favour to him, and I hope it
may one day turn to his advantage. His poem will
be printed in a few days. Our weather continues as
fresh raining as if it had not rained at all. I sat to-
night at lady Masham's, where lord-treasurer came
and scolded me for not dining with him. I told him
I could not till Saturday. I have stayed there till
past twelve; so night, dear MD.
20. Lady Jersey, lady Catherine Hyde, the Spa-
nish ambassador, the duke d'Etrées, another Spa-
niard, and I, dined to-day by appointment with lord
Bolingbroke: but they fell a drinking so many Spa-
nish healths in champagne, that I stole away to the
ladies, and drank tea till eight, and then went and
lost my money at ombre with sir Andrew Fountaine,
who has a very bad leg. Miss Ashe is past all
danger; and her eye which was lately bad. I sup-
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
267
pose one effect of her distemper,) is now better. I
do not let the bishop see me, nor shall this good
while. Good-lach! when I came home, I warrant,
I found a letter from MD, No. 38; and you write so
small now-a-days. I hope your poor eyes are better.
Well, this shall go to-morrow se'ennight, with a bill
for Me. I will speak to Mr. Griffin to-morrow,
about Ppt's brother Filby, and desire, whether he
deserves or no, that his employment may be mended,
that is to say, if I see Griffin; otherwise not; and
I'll answer MD's letter when I Pdfr think fil.
Night, MD.
24. I walked this morning to Chelsea, to see Dr
Atterbury, dean of Christchurch. I had business
with him about entering Mr. Fitz-Maurice, lord
Kerry's son, into his college; and lady Kerry is a
great favourite of mine. Lord Harley, lord Dup-
plin, young Bromley the speaker's son, and I, dined
with Dr. Stratford and some other clergymen; but I
left them at seven, to go to lady Jersey, to see Mon-
teleon the Spanish ambassador play at ombre.
Lady Jersey was abroad, and I chid the servants
and made a rattle; but since I came home she sent
me a message that I was mistaken, and that the
meeting is to
I meeting is to be to-morrow.
I have a worse
memory than when I left you, and every day forget
appointments; but here my memory was by chance
too good. But I'll go to-morrow; for lady Cathe-
rine Hyde and lady Bolingbroke are to be there by
appointment, and I listed up my periwig, and all, to
make a figure. Well, who can help it? Not I, vow
to Heaven! Night, MD.
21. Methinks I writ a little saucy last night. I
mean the last. I saw Griffin at court. He says he
knows nothing of a salt-work at Recton; but that he
will give Filby a better employment, and desires
Filby will write to him. If I knew where to write to
Filby, I would; but pray do you. Bid him make
no mention of you; but only let Mr. Griffin know
"that he has had the honour to be recommended by
Dr. Swift, &c.; that he will endeavour to de-
serve, &c. ;" and if you dictated a whole letter
for him it would be better; I hope he can write
and spell well. I'll inquire for a direction to Griffin
before I finish this. I dined with lord-treasurer and
seven lords to-day. You know Saturday is his
great day. I sat with them till eight, and then
came home, and have been writing a letter to Mrs.
Davis, at York. She took care to have a letter de-
livered for me at lord-treasurer's; for I would not
own one she sent by post. She reproaches me for
not writing to her these four years; and I have
honestly told her it was my way never to write to
those whom I am never likely to see, unless I can
serve then, which I cannot her, &c. Davis the
schoolmaster's widow. Night, MD.
22. I dined to-day at loid Orkney's, with the
duke of Orinond and sir Thomas Hanmer. Hare
you ever heard of the latter? He married the
duchess of Grafton in his youth (she dined with us
too). He is the most considerable man in the
house of commons. He went last spring to Flan-
ders, with the duke of Ormond; from thence to
France, and was going to Italy; but the ministry
sent for him, and he has been come over about ten
days. He is much out of humour with things: he
thinks the peace is kept off too long; and is full of
fears and douts. It is thought he is designed for
secretary of state, instead of lord Dartmouth. We
have been acquainted these two years; and I intend,
in a day or two, to have an hour's talk with him on
affairs. I saw the bishop of Clogher at court; miss
is recovering. I know not how much she will be
marked. The queen is slowly mending of her gout,
and intends to be brought in a chair to parliament
when it meets, which will be March 3; for I sup-
pose they will prorogue no more; yet the peace will
not be signed then, and we apprehend the Tories
themselves will many of them be discontented.
Night, dear MD.
23. It was ill weather to-day, and I dined with
sir Andrew Fountaine, and in the evening played at
ombre with him and the provost, and won twenty-
five shillings; so I have recovered myself pretty
well. Dilly has been dunning me to see Fanny
Mauley; but I have not yet been able to do it.
Miss Ashe is now quite out of danger; and they
hope will not be much marked. I cannot tell how
to direct to Griffin; and think he lives in Bury-
strect, near St. James's-street, hard by me; but I
suppose your brother may direct to him to the salt-
office, and, as I remember, he knows his christian
name, because he sent it me in the list of the com-
missioners. Night, dear MD.
25. Lord-treasurer met me last night at lord
Masham's, and thanked me for my company in a
jeer, because I had not dined with him in three
days. He chides if I stay away but two days to-
gether. What will this come to? Nothing. My
grandmother used to say,
"More of your lining, and less of your dining."
However, I dined with him, and could hardly leave
him at eight, to go to lady Jersey's, where five or six
foreign ministers were, and as many ladies. Monte-
leon played like the English, and cried game, and
knocked his knuckles for trump, and played at
small games like Ppt. Lady Jersey whispered me
to stay and sup with the ladies when the fellows
were gone; but they played till eleven, and I would
not stay.
I think this letter must go on Saturday;
that's certain; and it is not half full yet. Lady
Catherine Hyde had a mighty mind I should be
acquainted with lady Dalkeith, her sister, the duke
of Monmouth's eldest son's widow, who was of the
company to-night; but I did not like her; she
paints too much. Night, MD.
26. This day our society met at the duke of Or-
mond's; but I had business that called me another
way; so I sent my excuses, and dined privately
with a fricud. Besides, sir Thomas Hanmer whis-
pered me last night at lady Jersey's that I must at-
tend lord-treasurer and duke of Ormond at supper
at his house to-night; which I did at eleven, and
stayed till one, so you may be sure it is late enough.
There was the duchess of Grafton, and the duke her
son; nine of us in all, Duke of Ormond chid me
for not being at the society to-day, and said sixteen
were there. I said I never knew sixteen people
good company in my life; no, faith, nor eight nei-
I
ther. We have no news in this town at all.
wonder why I don't write you news. I know less of
what passes than anybody, because I go to no
coffeehouse, nor see any but ministers and such
people; and ministers never talk politics in conver-
sation. The Whigs are forming great schemes
against the meeting of parliament, which will be
next Tuesday, I still think, without fail; and we
hope to hear by then that the peace is ready to sign.
The queen's gout mends daily. Night, MD.
vately with a friend in the neighbourhood. Did I
27. I passed a very insipid day, and dined pri-
tell you that I have a very fine picture of lady Ork-
ney, an original, by sir Godfrey Kneller, three
quarters length? I have it now at home, with a
fine frame. Lord Bolingbroke and lady Masham
have promised to sit for me; but I despair of lord-
treasurer; only I hope he will give me a copy, and
He bequeathed this picture to the Earl of Orrery,
268
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
a
then I shall have all the pictures of those I really
love here; just half a dozen; only I will make
lord-keeper give me his print in a frame. This letter
must go to-morrow, because of sending Me a bill;
else it should not till next week, I assure you.
I have little to do now with my pen; for my grand
business stops till they are more pressing, and till
something or other happens; and I believe I shall
return with disgust to finish it, it is so very labori-
ous. Sir Thomas Hanmer has my papers now.
You are now at ombre with the dean, always on
Friday night with Mrs. Walls. Pray don't play at
small games.
I stood by the other night while the
Duke d'Etrées lost six times with manilio, basto,
and three small trumps; and lady Jersey won above
twenty pounds. Night, dear MD.
28. I was at court to-day, when the abbé Gautier
whispered me that a courier was just come with an
account that the French king had consented to all
the queen's demands, and his consent was carried to
Utrecht, and the peace will be signed in a few
days. I suppose the general peace cannot be so
soon ready; but that is no matter. The news pre-
sently ran about the court. I saw the queen carried
out in her chair to take the air in the garden. I
met Griffin at court, and he told me that orders
were sent to examine Filby; and, if he be fit, to
make him (I think he called it) an assistaut ; I
don't know what, supervisor, I think; but it is
some employment a good deal better than his own.
The parliament will have another short prorogation,
though it is not known yet. I dined with lord-
treasurer and his Saturday company, and left him at
eight to put this in the post-office time enough.
And now I must bid you farewell, dearest rogues.
God bless dear MD; and love Pdfr. Farewell,
MD, FW, Me, Lele.
LETTER THE SIXTY-FIRST.
London, March 1, 1712-13.
It is out of my head whether I answered all your
letter in my last yesterday or no.
I think I was in
haste, and could not: but now I see I answered a
good deal of it; no, only about your brother, and
Me's bill. I dined with lady Orkney, and we talked
politics till eleven at night; and, as usual, found
everything wrong, and put ourselves out of humour.
Yes, I have lady Giffard's picture sent me by your
mother. It is boxed up at a place where my other
things are. I have goods in two or three places;
and when I have a lodging I box up the books I get
(for I always get some), and come naked into a new
lodging; and so on. Talk not to me of deancries
I know less of that than ever by much. Night, MD.
2. I went into the city to see Pat Rolt, who
lodges with a city cousin, a daughter of cousin Cleve
(you are much the wiser). I had never been at her
house before. My he-cousin Thomson the butcher
is dead, or dying. I dined with my printer, and
walked home, and went to sit with lady Clarges. I
found four of them at whist; lady Godolphin was
I sat by her, and talked of her cards, &c., but
she would not give one look, nor say a word to me.
She refused some time ago to be acquainted with
me. You know she is lord Marlborough's eldest
daughter. She is a fool for her pains, and I'll pull
her down. What can I do for Dr. Smith's daughter's
husband? I have no personal credit with any of the
commissioners. I will speak to Keatley; but I
believe it will signify nothing. In the customs
people must rise by degrees, and he must at first
take what is very low, if he be qualified for that.
Ppt mistakes me; I am not angry at your recom-
a His History of the Peace of Utrecht.
one.
mending any one to me, provided you will take my
answer. Some things are in my way, and then I
serve those I can. But people will not distinguish,
but take things ill when I have no power; but Ppt
is wiser. And employments in general are very
hard to be got. Night, MD.
3. I dined to-day with lord-treasurer, who chid
me for my absence, which was only from Saturday
last. The parliament was again prorogued for a
weck, and I suppose the peace will be ready by then,
and the queen will be able to be brought to the
house and make her speech. I saw Dr. Griffith two
or three months ago at a Latin play at Westminster
but did not speak to him. I hope he will not die
I should be sorry for Ppt's sake; he is very tender
of her. I have long lost all my colds, and the
weather mends a little. I take some steel drops,
and my head is pretty well. I walk when I can,
but am grown very idle; and, not finishing my
thing, I ramble abroad and play at ombre. I shall
be more careful in my physic than Mrs. Price: 'tis
not a farthing matter her death, I think; and so I
say no more to-night, but will read a dull book and
go sleep. Night, dear MD.
4. Mr. Ford has been this half-year inviting me to
dine at his lodgings: so I did to-day, and brought
the provost and Dr. Parnell with me, aud my friend
Lewis was there. Parnell went away, and the other
three played at ombre, and I looked on; which I
love, and would not play. Tisdall is a pretty fellow,
as you say; and when I come back to Ireland with
nothing he will condole with me with abundance of
secret pleasure. I believe I told you what he wrote
"That I have saved England, and he Ire-
land;" but I can bear that. I have learned to hear
and see, and say nothing. I was to see the duchess
Hamilton to-day, and met Blith of Ireland just
going out of her house into his coach. I asked her
how she came to receive young fellows. It seems
to me,
he had a ball in the duke of Hamilton's house when
the duke died; and the duchess got an advertise-
ment put in the Postboy, reflecting on the ball be-
cause the Marlborough daughters were there; and
Blith came to beg the duchess's pardon and clear
himself. He is a sad dog. Night, dear MD.
5. Lady Masham has miscarried; but is almost
well again. I have paid many visits to-day. I met
Blith at the duke of Ormond's; and he begged me
to carry him to the duchess Hamilton to beg her
pardon again. I did on purpose to see how the
blunderbuss behaved himself; but I begged the
duchess to use him mercifully, for she is the devil of
a teaser. The good of it is, she ought to beg hiz
pardon, for he meant no harm; yet she would not
allow him to put in an advertisement to clear him-
self from hers, though hers was all a lie.
pealed to me, and I gravely gave it against him. I
was at court to-day, and the foreign ministers have
got a trick of employing me to speak for them to
lord-treasurer and lord Bolingbroke; which I do
when the case is reasonable. The college need not
I dined with sir
fear; I will not be their governor.
He ap-
Thomas Hanmer and his duchess. The duke of
Ormond was there, but we parted soon, and I went
to visit lord Pembroke for the first time; but it was
to see some curious books. Lord Cholmondeley
came in; but I would not talk to him, though he
made many advances. I hate the scoundrel for all
he is your Griffith's friend.
Griffith's friend. Yes, yes, I am abused
enough, if that be all. Night, MD.
6. I was to-day at an auction of pictures with
Pratt, and laid out two pounds five shillings for a
picture of Titian, and if it were a Titian it would be
i worth twice as many pounds. If I am cheated, I'll
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
269
But I
part with it to lord Masham: if it be a bargain, I'll
keep it to myself. That's my conscience.
made Pratt buy several pictures for lord Masham.
Pratt is a great virtuoso that way. I dined with
lord-treasurer, but made him go to court at eight.
I always tease him to be gone. I thought to have
made Parnell dine with him, but he was ill; his
head is out of order like mine, but more constant,
poor boy!—I was at lord-treasurer's levee with the
provost, to ask a book for the college. I never go
to his levee unless it be to present somebody.
7. Yes, I hope Leigh will soon be gone, a p— on
him! I met him once, and he talked gravely to me
of not seeing the Irish bishops here, and the Irish
gentlemen; but I believe my answers fretted him
enough. I would not dine with lord-treasurer to-
day, though it was Saturday (for he has engaged
me for to-morrow), but went and dined with lord
Masham, and played at ombre, sixpenny running
ombre, for three hours. There were three voles
against me, and I was once a great loser, but came
off for three shillings and sixpence. One may easily
lose five guineas at it. Lady Orkney is gone out of
town to-day, and I could not see her for laziness,
but wrote to her. She has left me some physic. I
knew MD's politics before, and I think it pretty
extraordinary, and a great compliment to you, and
I believe never three people conversed so much with
so little politics. I avoid all conversation with the
other party; it is not to be borne, and I am sorry
for it. O yes, things are very dear. DD must come
in at last with her two eggs a penny. There the
provost was well applied. Parvisol has sent me a
bill of fifty pounds, as I ordered him, which I hope
will serve me, and bring me over. Pray God MD
does not be delayed for it: but I have had very little
from him this long time. I was not at court to-day;
a wonder! Night, dear MD. Love Pdfr.
8. You must know I give chocolate almost every
day to two or three people that I suffer to come to
see me in a morning. My man begins to lie pretty
well. 'Tis nothing for people to be denied ten times.
My man knows all I will see, and denies me to
everybody else. This is the day of the queen's
coming to the crown, and the day lord-treasurer was
stabbed by Guiscard. I was at court, where every-
body had their birthday clothes on, and I dined with
lord-treasurer, who was very fine. He showed me
some of the queen's speech, which I corrected in
several places, and penned the vote of address of
thanks for the speech; but I was of opinion the
house should not sit on Tuesday next unless they
hear the peace is signed; that is, provided they are
sure it will be signed the week after, and so have
one scolding for all. Night, MD.
I
9. Lord-treasurer would have had me dine with
him to-day; he desired me last night, but I refused,
because he would not keep the day of his stabbing
with all the cabinet, as he intended: so I dined with
my friend Lewis; and the provost, Parnell, and
Ford, were with us. I lost sixteen shillings at
ombre; I don't like it. At night Lewis brought us
word that the parliament does not sit to-morrow.
hope they are sure of the peace by next week, and
then they are right in my opinion: otherwise I think
they have done wrong, and might have sat three
weeks ago. People will grumble; but lord-trea-
surer cares not a rush. Lord-keeper is suddenly
taken ill of a quinsy, and some lords are commis-
sioned, I think lord-treasurer, to prorogue the par-
liament in his stead. You never saw a town so full
of ferment and expectation. Mr. Pope has published
a fine poem, called Windsor Forest. Read it.
Night, MD.
10. I was early this morning to see lord Boling-
broke. I find he was of opinion the parliament
should sit; and says they are not sure the peace wili
be signed next week. The prorogation is to this
day se'ennight. I went to look on a library I am
going to buy, if we can agree. I have offered a
hundred and twenty pounds, and will give ten
pounds more. Lord Bolingbroke will lend me the
money. I was two hours poring over the books. I
will sell some of them and keep the rest; but I
doubt they won't take the money. I dined in the
city, and sate an hour in the evening with lord-
treasurer, who was in very good humour, but re-
proached me for not dining with him yesterday and
to-day. What will all this come to? Lord-keeper
had a pretty good night, and is better. I was in
pain for him. Night, MD.
11. I was this morning to visit the duke and
duchess of Ormond and the duchess of Hamilton,
and went with the provost to an auction of pictures,
and laid out fourteen shillings. I am in for it if I
had money; but I doubt I shall be undone; for sir
Andrew Fountaine invited the provost and me to
dine with him and play at ombre, when I fairly lost
fourteen shillings. It won't do; and I shall be out
of conceit with play this good while. I am come
home; and it is late, and my puppy let out my fire,
and I am gone to bed, and writing there, and it is
past twelve a good while. Went out four matadores
and a trump in black, and yet was beasted. Very
sad, faith! Night, my dear rogues, MD.
12. I was at another auction of pictures to-day,
and a great auction it was. I made lord Masham
lay out forty pounds. There were pictures sold of
twice as much value apiece. Our society met to-
day at the duke of Beaufort's: a prodigious fine
dinner, which I hate; but we did some business.
Our printer was to attend us as usual; and the
chancellor of the exchequer sent the author of the
"Examiner" [Mr. Oldisworth] twenty guineas.
He is an ingenious fellow, but the most confounded
vain coxcomb in the world, so that I dare not let
him see me, nor am acquainted with him. I had
much discourse with the duke of Ormond this morn-
ing, and am driving some points to secure
I left the society at seven. I can't drink now at all
with any pleasure. I love white Portugal wine
better than claret, champagne, or burgundy. I have
a sad vulgar appetite. I remember Ppt used to
maunder when I came from a great dinner, and DD
had but a bit of mutton. I cannot endure above
one dish, nor ever could since I was a boy and
loved stuffing. It was a fine day, which is a rarity
with us, I assure you. Never fair two days together.
Night, MD.
*
13. I had a rabble of Irish parsons this morning
drinking my chocolate. I cannot remember ap-
pointments. I was to have supped last night with
the Swedish envoy at his house, and some other
company, but forgot it; and he rallied me to-day at
lord Bolingbroke's, who excused me, saying the en-
voy ought not to be angry, because I serve lord-trea-
surer and him the same way. For that reason I
very seldom promise to go anywhere. I dined with
lord-treasurer, who chid me for being absent so long,
as he always does if I miss a day. I sat three hours
this evening with lady Jersey; but the first two hours
she was at ombre with some company. I left lord-,
treasurer at eight; I fancied he was a little thought-i
ful, for he was playing with an orange by fits, which,
I told him, among common men looked like the'
spleen. This letter shall not go to-morrow; no'
haste, young women; nothing that presses.
I
I pro-
mised but once in three weeks, and I am better than
270
JOURNAL TO STELLA
my word. I wish the peace may be ready, I mean
that we have notice it is signed before Tuesday;
otherwise the grumbling will much increase. Night,
dear MD.
14. It was a lovely day this, and I took the ad-
vantage of walking a good deal in the park before I
went to court. Colonel Disney, one of our society,
is ill of a fever, and, we fear, in great danger. We
We
all love him mightily, and he would be a great loss.
I doubt I shall not buy the library; for a roguish
bookseller has offered sixty pounds inore than I de-
signed to give; so you see I meant to have a good
bargain. I dined with lord-treasurer and his Satur-
day company; but there were but seven at table.
Lord Peterborow is ill, and spits blood, with a
bruise he got before he left England; but, I believe,
an Italian lady he has brought over is the cause that
his illness returns. You know old lady Bellasyse is
dead at last? She has left lord Berkeley of Stratton
one of her executors, and it will be of great advan-
tage to him; they say above ten thousand pounds.
I stayed with lord-treasurer upon business after the
company was gone, but I dare not tell you upon
what. My letters would be good memoirs if I durst
venture to say a thousand things that pass; but I
hear so much of letters opening at your post-office
that I am fearful, &c., and so good night. Love
Pdfr and MD.
15. Lord-treasurer engaged me to dine with him
again to-day, and I had ready what he wanted; but
he would not see it, but put me off till to-morrow.
The queen goes to chapel now. She is carried in an
open chair, and will be well enough to go to parlia-
ment on Tuesday, if the houses meet, which is not yet
certain; neither, indeed, can the ministers themselves
tell; for it depends on winds and weather, and cir-
cumstances of negotiation. However, we go on as
if it was certainly to meet; and I am to be at lord-
treasurer's to-morrow, upon that supposition, to
settle some things relating that way. Ppt may un-
derstand me. The doctors tell me that, if poor
colonel Disney does not get some sleep to-night, he
must die. What care you? Ah! but
you? Ah! but I do care.
He is one of our society; a fellow of abundance of
humour; an old battered rake, but very honest:
not an old man, but an old rake. It was he that
said of Jenny Kingdom, the maid of honour, who
is a little old, "That, since she could not get a
husband, the queen should give her a brevet to act
as a married woman." You don't understand this.
They give brevets to majors and captains to act as
colonels in the army. Brevets are commissions.
Ask soldiers, dear sirrabs. Night, MD.
16. I was at lord-treasurer's before he came; and,
as he entered, he told me the parliament was pro-
rogued till Thursday se'ennight. They have had some
expresses, by which they count that the peace may
be signed by that time; at least, that France, Hol-
lind, and we, will sign some articles, by which we
shall engage to sign the peace when it is ready but
Spain has no minister there; for Monteleon, who is
to be their ambassador at Utrecht, is not yet gone
from hence; and till he is there the Spaniards can
sign no peace and one thing take notice, that a
general peace can hardly be finished these two months,
so as to be proclaimed here; for, after signing, it
Tunst be ratified; that is, confirmed by the several
princes at their courts, which to Spain will cost a
month; for we must have notice that it is ratified
in all courts before we can proclaim it. So be not
in too much haste. Night, MD.
17. The Irish folks were disappointed that the par-
liament did not meet to-day, because it was St.
|
|
I thought all the world was Irish. Miss Ashe is
almost quite well, and I see the bishop, but shall not
yet go to his house. I dined again with lord-trea-
surer; but the parliament being prorogued, I must
keep what I have till next week: for I believe he
will not see it till just the evening before the session.
He has engaged me to dine with him again to-morrow,
though I did all I could to put it off; but I don't
care to disoblige him. Night, MD.
18. I have now dined six days successively with
lord-treasurer; but to-night I stole away while he
was talking with somebody else, and so am at liberty
to-morrow. There was a flying report of a general
cessation of arms: everybody had it at court; but I
believe there is nothing in it. I asked a certain
French minister how things went? And he whispered
me in French, "Your plenipotentiaries and ours
play the fool." None of us, indeed, approve of the
conduct of either at this time; but lord-treasurer
was in full good humour for all that. He had invited
a good many of his relations; and of a dozen at
table, they were all of the Harley family but myself.
Disney is recovering, though you don't care a straw.
Dilly murders us with his if puns. You know them.
Night, MD.
19. The bishop of Clogher has made an if pun,
that he is mighty proud of, and designs to send it over
to his brother Tom. But sir Andrew Fountaine has
wrote to Tom Ashe last post, and told him the pun,
and desired him to send it over to the bishop as bis
own; and, if it succeeds, it will be a pure bite.
The bishop will tell it us as a wonder, that he and
his brother should jump so exactly. I'll tell you the
pun :-If there was a hackney coach at Mr. Pooley's
door, what town in Egypt would it be? Why, it
would be Hecatompolis; Hack at Tom Pooley's."
Silly, says, Ppt. I dined with a private friend to-day;
for our society, I told you, meet but once a fortnight.
I have not seen Fanny Manley yet; I can't help it.
Lady Orkney is come to town: why, she was at her
country-house; what care you? Night, MD.
20. Dilly read me a letter to-day from Ppt. She
seems to have scratched her head when she wrote
it.
No
The
'Tis a sad thing to write to people without taste.
There you say, you hear I was going to Bath.
such thing; I am pretty well, I thank God.
town is now sending me to Savoy. Forty people
have given me joy of it, yet there is not the least
truth that I know in it. I was at an auction of
pictures, but bought none. I was so glad of my
liberty that I would dine nowhere; but, the weather
being fine, I sauntered into the city, and ate a bit
about five, and then supped at Mr. Burke's, your
accountant-general, who had been engaging me
this month. The bishop of Clogher was to have
been there, but was hindered by lord Paget's fune-
ral. The provost and I sat till one o'clock; and if
that be not late I don't know what is late. Parnell's
poem will be published on Monday, and to-morrow
I design he shall present it to lord-treasurer and
lord Bolingbroke at court. The poor lad is almost
always out of order with his head. Burke's wife is
his sister. She has a little of the pert Irish way.
Night, MD.
21. Morning.--I will now finish my letter; for
company will come, and a stir, and a clutter; and
I'll keep the letter in my pocket, and give it into
the post myself. I must go to court, and you know
on Saturday I dine with lord-treasurer, of course.
Farewell, dearest MD, FW, Me, Lele.
LETTER THE SIXTY-SECOND.
London, March 21, 1712-13.
Patrick's day; and the Mall was so full of crosses that I GAVE your letter in this night. I dined with lord-
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
271
treasurer to-day, and find he has been at a meeting
at lord Halifax's house, with four principal Whigs;
but he is resolved to begin a speech against them
when the parliament sits; and I have begged that
the ministry may have a meeting on purpose to
settle that matter, and let us be the attackers; and
I believe it will come to something, for the Whigs
intend to attack the ministers and if, instead of
that, the ministers attack the Whigs, it will be bet-
ter and further, I believe we shall attack them on
those very points they intend to attack us. The
parliament will be again prorogued for a fortnight,
because of Passion-week. I forgot to tell you that
Mr. Griffin has given Ppt's brother a new employ-
ment, about ten pounds a-year better than his
former; but more remote, and consequently cheaper.
I wish I could have done better, and hope that you
will take what can be done in good part, and that
Ppt's brother will not dislike it.-Night, dearest MD).
22. I dined to-day with lord-steward [earl Poulet].
There Frank Annesley (a parliament-man) told me
he had heard that I had wrote to my friends in Ire-
land to keep firm to the Whig interest; for that
lord-treasurer would certainly declare for it after
the peace. Annesley said twenty people had told
him this. You must know this is what they endea-
vour to report of lord-treasurer, that he designs to
declare for the Whigs; and a Scotch fellow has
wrote the same to Scotland; and his meeting with
those lords gives occasion to such reports. Let me
henceforth call lord-treasurer Eltee, because possibly
my letters may be opened. Pray remember Eltee.
You know the reason. L. T. and Eltee are pro-
nounced the same way. Stay, it is now five weeks
since I had a letter from MD. I allow you six.
You see why I cannot come over the beginning of
April. Whoever has to do with this ministry can
fix no time but as hope saved, it is not Pdfr's
fault.
23. I dined to-day at sir Thomas Hanmer's, by
an old appointment: there was the duke of Ormond,
and lord and lady Orkney. I left them at six.
Everybody is as sour as vinegar. I endeavour to
keep a firm friendship between the duke of Ormond
and Eltec. You know who Eltee is (or have you
forgot already?). I have great designs, if I can com-
pass them; but delay is rooted in Eltec's heart; yet
the fault is not altogether there that things are c
better. Here is the cursedest libel in verse come
out that ever was seen, called "The Ambassa-
dress" it is very dull too; it has been printed
three or four different ways, and is handed about, but
not sold. It abuses the queen. horribly. The Ex-
aminer has cleared me to-day of being author of
his paper, and done it with great civilities to me. I
hope it will stop people's mouths: if not, they must
go on and be hanged, I care not. 'Tis terrible rainy
weather; I'll go sleep. Night, dearest MD.
24. It rained all this day, and ruined me in coach-
hire. I went to colonel Disney, who is past danger.
Then I visited lord-keeper, who was at dinner; but
I would not dine with him, but drove to lord-trea-
surer (Eltee I mean); paid the coachman and went
in; but he dined abroad: so I was forced to call
the coachman again, and went to lord Bolingbroke's.
He dined abroad too; and at lord Dupplin's I alighted,
and by good luck got a dinner there, and then went
to the Latin play at Westminster school, acted by
the boys and lord-treasurer (Eltee I mean again)
honoured them with his presence. Lady Masham's
eldest son, about two years old, is ill, and 1 am
afraid will not live: she is full of grief, and I pity
It was entitled "The British Ambassadres's Speech to
the French King,'
and am angry with her. Four shillings to-day in
coach-hire; faith it won't do. Our peace will cer-
tainly be ready by Thursday fortnight; but our
plenipotentiaries were to blame that it was not done
already. They thought their powers were not full
enough to sign the peace, unless every prince was
ready, which cannot yet be; for Spain has no mi-
nister yet at Utrecht; but now curs have new orders.
Night, MD.
So a
25. Weather worse than ever; terrible rain all
day, but I was resolved I would spend no more
money. I went to an auction of pictures with Dr.
Pratt, and there met the duke of Beaufort, who pro-
mised to come with me to court, but did not.
coach I got, and went to court, and did some little
business there, but was forced to go home for you
must understand I take a little physic over night,
which works me next day. Lady Orkney is my
physician. It is hiera picra, two spoonsful-devilish
stuff! I thought to have dined with Eltee, but would
not, merely to save a shilling; but I dined privately
with a friend, and played at ombre, and won six
shillings. Here are several people of quality lately
dead of the small-pox. I have not yet seen Miss
Ashe, but hear she is well. The bishop of Clogher
has bought abundance of pictures, and Dr. Pratt has
got him very good pennyworths. I can get no walks,
the weather is so bad. Is it so with you? Night,
dear MD.
26. Though it was shaving-day, head and beard,
yet I was out early to see lord Bolingbroke and talk
over affairs with him; and then I went to the duke
of Ormond, and so to court, where the ministers did
not come, because the parliament was prorogued
ill this day fortnight. We had terrible rain and
hail to-day. Our society met this day, but I left
them before seven, and went to sir Andrew Foun-
taine, and played at ombre with him and sir Thomas
Clarges till ten, and then went to sir Thomas Han-
mer. His wife, the duchess of Grafton, left us after
a little while, and I stayed with him about an hour,
upon some affairs, &c. Lord Bolingbroke left us at
the society before I went; for there is an express
from Utrecht, but I know not yet what it contains;
only I know the ministers expect the peace will be
signed in a week, which is a week before the session.
Night, MD.
27. Parnell's poem is mightily esteemed; but
poetry sells ill. I am plagued with that **** poor
Harrison's mother; you would laugh to see how
cautious I am of paying her the 1007. I received
for her son from the treasury.
I have asked every
creature I know whether I may do it safely; yet
durst not venture till my lord-keeper assured me
there was no danger. Yet I have not paid her, but
will in a day or two: though I have a great mind to
stay till Ppt sends me her opinion, because Ppt is a
great lawyer. I dined to-day with a mixture of
people at a Scotchman's, who made the invitation
to Mr. Lewis and me, and has some design upon
us, which we know very well. I went afterward
to see a famous moving picture, and I never saw
anything so pretty. You see a sea ten inches wide,
a town at the other end, and ships sailing in the sea
and discharging their cannon. You see a great sky,
with moon and stars, &c. I am a fool. Night.
dear MD.
28. I had a mighty levee to-day. I deny myself
to everybody, except about half a dozen, and they
were all here. and Mr. Addison was one. I had
chocolate twice, which I don't like. Our rainy
weather continues. Coach-hire goes deep. I dinad
with Eltee and his Saturday company, as usual, and
could not get away till nine. Lord Peterborow was
272
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
making long harangues, and Eltee kept me in spite.
Then I went to see the bishop of Ossory, who had
engaged me in the morning; he is going to Irelaud.
The bishop of Killaloe and Tom Leigh were with
us. The latter had wholly changed his style by
seeing how the bishops behaved themselves, and he
seemed to think me one of more importance than I
really am. I put the ill conduct of the bishops
about the first-fruits, with relation to Eltee and me,
strongly upon Killaloe, and showed how it had hin-
dered me from getting a better thing for them, call-
ed the crown-rents, which the queen had promised.
He had nothing to say, but was humble, and desired
my interest in that and some other things. This
letter is half done in a week: I believe you will have
it next. Night, MD.
29. I have been employed in endeavouring to
save one of your junior fellows, who came over here
for a dispensation from taking orders, and, in soli-
citing it, has run out his time, and now his fellowship
is void, if the college pleases, unless the queen sus-
pends the execution, and gives him time to take
orders. I spoke to all the ministers yesterday about
it; but they say the queen is angry, and thought it
was a trick to deceive her; and she is positive, and
so the man must be ruined, for I cannot help him.
I never saw him in my life; but the case was so
hard I could not forbear interposing. Your go-
vernment recommended him to the duke of Ormond,
and he thought they would grant it; and by the
time it was refused the fellowship by rigour is for-
feited. I dined with Dr. Arbuthnot (one of my
brothers) at his lodgings in Chelsea, and was there
at chapel; and the altar put me in mind of Tisdall's
outlandish mould at your hospital for the soldiers.
I was not at court to-day, and I hear the queen was
not at church. Perhaps the gout has seized her
again. Terrible rain all day. Have you such wea-
ther? Night, MD.
The
30. Morning.-I was naming some time ago to
a certain person, another certain person that was
very deserving and poor and sickly; and the other,
that first certain person, gave me a hundred pounds
to give the other, which I have not yet done.
person who is to have it never saw the giver, nor
expects one farthing, nor has the least knowledge
or imagination of it; so I believe it will be a very.
agreeable surprise; for I think it is a handsome.
present enough. At night I dined in the city, at
Pontack's, with lord Dupplin and some others.
We were treated by one colonel Cleland, who has
a mind to be governor of Barbadoes, and is laying
these long traps for me and others, to engage our
interest for him. He is a true Scotchman. I paid
the hundred pounds this evening, and it was a great
surprise to the receiver. We reckon the peace is
now signed, and that we shall have it in three days.
I believe it is pretty sure. Night, MD.
31. I thought to-day on Ppt when she told me
she supposed I was acquainted with the steward,
when I was giving myself airs of being at some lord's
house. Sir Andrew Fountaine invited the bishop
of Clogher and me, and some others, to dine where
he did; and he carried us to the duke of Kent's, who
was gone out of town; but the steward treated us
nobly, and showed us the fine pictures, &c. I have
not yet seen Miss Ashe. I wait till she has been
abroad and taken the air. This evening lady Mash-
am, Dr. Arbuthnot, and I, were contriving a lie
for to-morrow, that Mr. Noble, who was hanged
iast Saturday, was recovered by his friends and then
a Mr. Charles Grattan, afterwards master of the royal free
school at Enniskillen, founded by Erasmus Smith, esq.
Then one of the tellers of the exchequer.
seized again by the sheriff, and is now in a mes.
senger's hands at the Black Swan in Holborn. We
are all to send to our friends to know whether they
they have heard any thing of it, and so we hope it
will spread. However, we shall do our endeavours;
nothing shall be wanting on our parts, and leave
the rest to fortune. Night, MD.
April 1. We had no success in our story, though
I sent my man to several houses to inquire among
the footmen, without letting him into the secret;
but I doubt my colleagues did not contribute as they
ought. Parnell and I dined with Dartmeuf to-day
You have heard of Dartineuf: I have told you of
Dartineuf. After dinner we all went to lord Bo-
lingbroke's, who had desired me to dine with him,
but I would not, because I had heard it was to look
over a dull poem of one parson Trap upon the peace.
The Swedish envoy told me to-day at court that he
was in great apprehensions about his master, and
indeed we are afraid that prince [Charles XII.] is
dead among those Turkish dogs. I prevailed on
lord Bolingbroke to invite Mr. Addison to dine with
him on Good Friday. I suppose we shall be mighty
mannerly. Addison is to have a play on Friday in
Easter week: 'tis a tragedy called Cato; I saw it un-
finished some years ago. Did I tell you that Steele
has begun a new daily paper called the “Guardian ?”
they say good for nothing. I have not seen it.
Night, dear MD.
I was
2. I was this morning with lord Bolingbroke, and
he tells me a Spanish courier is just come with the
news that the king of Spain has agreed to every thing
that the queen desires, and the duke d'Ossuna has
left Paris in order to his journey to Utrecht.
prevailed on to come home with Trap and read his
poem and correct it, but it was good for nothing.
While I was thus employed sir Thomas Hanmer
came up to my chamber and balked me of a journey
he and I intended this week to lord Orkney's, at
Cliffden, but he is not well, and his physician will
not let him undertake such a journey. I intended
to dine with lord-treasurer, but going to see colonel
Disney, who lives with general Withers, I liked the
general's little dinner so well that I stayed and took
share of it, and did not go to lord-treasurer till six,
where I found Dr. Sacheverel, who told us that the
bookseller had given him 1007. for his sermon
preached last Sunday, and intended to print 30,000;
I believe he will be confoundedly bit, and will
hardly sell above half. I have fires still, though April
is begun, against my old maxim, but the weather is
wet and cold. I never saw such a long run of ill
weather in my life. Night, dear MD.
3. I was at the queen's chapel to-day, but she was
not there. Mr. St. John, lord Bolingbroke's brother,
came this day at noon with an express from Utrecht
that the peace is signed by all the ministers there
but those of the emperor, who will likewise sign in
a few days, so that now the great work is in effect
done, and I believe it will appear a most excellent
peace for Europe, particularly for England. Addison
and I. and some others, dined with lord Bolingbroke,
and sate with him till twelve. We were very civil,
but yet, when we grew warm, we talked in a friendly
manner of party. Addison raised his objections, and
lord Bolingbroke answered them with great com-
plaisance. Addison began lord Somers's health,
which went about; but I bid him not name lord
Wharton's, for I would not pledge it, and I told lord
Bolingbroke frankly that Addison loved lord Whar-
ton as little as I did: so we laughed, &c. Well, but
you are glad of the peace, you Ppt the trimmer, are
not you? As for DD, I don't doubt her. Why, now,
if I did not think Ppt had been a violent Tory, and
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
273
$
DD the greater Whig of the two! It is late. Night,
MD.
4. This Passion-week people are so demure, espe-
cially this last day, that I told Dilly, who called here,
that I would dine with him, and so I did, faith, and
had a small shoulder of mutton of my own bespeaking.
It rained all day. I came home at seven and have
never stirred out, but have been reading Sacheverel's
long dull sermon which he sent me. It is his first
sermon since his suspension is expired, but not a
word in it upon the occasion except two or three re-
mote hints. The bishop of Clogher has been sadly bit
by Tom Ashe, who sent him a pun which the bishop
had made and designed to send him, but delayed it;
and lord Pembroke and I made sir Andrew Foun-
taine write it to Tom. I believe I told you of it in
my last; it succeeded right, and the bishop was
wondering to lord Pembroke how he and his brother
could hit on the same thing. I'll go to bed soon, for
I must be at church by eight to-morrow, Easter-
day. Night, dear MD.
5. Warburton wrote to me two letters about a
living of one Foulkes, who is lately dead in the
county of Meath. My answer is, that before I re-
ceived the first letter general Georges had recom-
mended a friend of his to the duke of Ormond.
which was the first time I heard of its vacancy, and
it was the provost told me of it. I believe verily
that Foulkes was not dead when Georges recom-
mended the other, for Warburton's last letter said
that Foulkes was dead the day before the date.
This has prevented me from serving Warburton as
I would have done if I had received early notice
enough. Pray say or write this to Warburton, to
justify me to him. I was at church at eight this
morning, and dressed and shaved after I came back,
but was too late at court, and lord Abingdon had
like to have snapped me for dinner, and I believe
will fall out for refusing him; but I hate dining with
him, and I dined with a private friend, and took
two or three good walks, for it was a very fine day,
the first we have had a great while. Remember,
was Easter-day a fine day with you? I have sat with
lady Worsley till now. Night, MD.
6. I was this morning at ten at the rehearsal of
Mr. Addison's play, called Cato, which is to be acted
on Friday. There was not above half-a-score of us
to see it. We stood on the stage, and it was foolish
enough to see the actors prompted every moment,
and the poet directing them; and the drab that acts
Cato's daughter [Mrs. Oldfield] out in the midst of
a passionate part, and then calling out, "What's
next?" The bishop of Clogher was there too; but
he stood privately in a gallery. I went to dine with
lord-treasurer, but he was gone to Wimbledon, his
daughter Caermarthen's country seat, seven miles
off. So I went back, and dined privately with Mr.
Addison, whom I had left to go to lord-treasurer.
I keep fires yet; I am very extravagant. I sat this
evening with sir Andrew Fountaine, and we amused
ourselves with making ifs for Dilly. It is rainy
weather again; never saw the like. This letter
shall go to-morrow: remember, young women, it
is seven weeks since your last, and I allow you but
five weeks; but you have been galloping in the
country to Swanton's. Pray tell Swanton I had
his letter, but cannot contrive how to serve him.
If a governor were to go over, I would recommend
him as far as lay in my power, but I can do no
more: and you know all employments in Ireland,
at least almost all, are engaged in reversions. If I
were on the spot, and had credit with a lord-lieu-
tenant, I would very heartily recommend him; but
VOL. 1
1
+
!
employments here are no more in my power than
the monarchy itself. Night, dear MD.
7. Morning.-I have had a visitor here that has
taken up my time. I have not been abroad, you
may be sure; so I can say nothing to-day, but that
I love MI better than ever, if possible. I will put
this in the post-office; so I say no more. I write
by this post to the dean, but it is not above two
lines; and one enclosed to you, but that enclosed to
you is not above three lines; and then one enclosed
to the dean, which he must not have but upon con-
dition of burning it immediately after reading, and
that before your eyes; for there are some things in
it I would not have liable to accident. You shall
only know in general that it is an account of what I
have done to serve him in his pretensions on these
vacancies, &c. But he must not know that you
know so much. Don't this perplex you! What
care I? But love Pdfr. Farewell, dearest MD,
FW, Me, Lele.
LETTER THE SIXTY-THIRD.
London, April 7, 1713.
I FANCY I marked my last, which I sent this day,
wrong; only 61, and it ought to be 62. I dined
with lord-treasurer, and though the business I had
with him is something against Thursday, when the
parliament is to meet, and this is Tuesday, yet he
put it off till to-morrow. I dare not tell you what
it is, lest this letter should miscarry or be opened ;
but I never saw his fellow for delays. The par-
liament will now certainly sit, and everybody's ex-
pectations are ready to burst. At a council to-night
the lord-chief-justice Parker, a Whig, spoke against
the peace; so did lord Cholmondeley, another Whig,
who is treasurer of the household. My lord-keeper
[lord Harcourt], was this night made lord-chancellor.
We hope there will soon be some removes. Night,
dearest little MD.
8. Lord Cholmondeley is this day removed from
his employment, for his last night's speech; and sır
Richard Temple, lieutenant-general, the greatest
Whig in the army, is turned out; and lieutenant-
general Palmes will be obliged to sell his regiment.
This is the first-fruits of a friendship I have esta-
I dined with lord-
blished between two great men.
treasurer, and did the business I had for him to his
satisfaction. I won't tell you what it was. The
Here is a
parliament sits to-morrow for certain.
letter printed in Macartney's name, vindicating him-
self from the murder of duke Hamilton. I must
give some hints to have it answered; 'tis full of lies,
and will give an opportunity of exposing that party.
To-morrow will be a very important day. All the
world will be at Westminster. Lord-treasurer is as
easy as a lamb. They are mustering up the proxies
of the absent lords; but they are not in any fear of
wanting a majority, which death and accidents have
increased this year. Night, MD.
9. I was this morning with lord-treasurer, to pre-
sent to him a young son of the late earl of Jersey,
at the desire of the widow. There I saw the mace
and great coach ready for lord-treasurer, who was
going to parliament. Our society met to-day; but
I expected the houses would sit longer than I cared
to fast; so I dined with a friend, and never inquired
how matters went till eight this evening, when 1
went to lord Orkney's, where I found sir Thomas
Hanmer. The queen delivered her speech very
well, but a little weaker in her voice. The crowd
was vast. The order for an address was moved, and
opposed by lords Nottingham, Halifax, and Cowpei,
+
271
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
Loid-treasurer spoke with great spirit and reso-
bution; lord Peterborow flirted against the duke of
Marlborough (who is in Germany, you know), but
it was in answer to one of lord Halifax's imper-
tinences. The order for an address passed by a
majority of thirty-three, and the houses rose before
six. This is the account 1 heard at lord Orkney's.
The bishop of Chester, a high Tory, was against the
court. The duchess of Marlborough sent for him
some months ago, to justify herself to him in rela-
tion to the queen, and showed him letters, and told
nim stories, which the weak man believed, and was
converted.
10. I dined with a cousin in the city, and poor
Pat Rolt was there. I have got her rogue of a hus-
band leave to come to England from Portmahon.
The Whigs are much down, but I reckon they
have some scheme in agitation. This parliament-
time hinders our court meetings on Wednesdays,
Thursdays, and Saturdays. I had a great deal of
business to-night, which gave me a temptation to be
idle, and I lost a dozen shillings at ombre with Dr.
Pratt and another. It rains every day, and yet we
are all over dust. Lady Masham's eldest boy is
very ill I doubt he will not live, and she stays at
Kensington to nurse him, which rexes us all. She
is so excessively fond, it makes me mad. She should
never leave the queen, but leave everything to stick
to what is so much the interest of the public, as well
as her own. This I tell her, but talk to the winds.
Night, MD.
II.
Ïl. i dined at lord-treasurer's, with his Saturday
company. We had ten at table, all lords but myself
and the chancellor of the exchequer. Argyle went
off at six, and was in very indifferent humour as
usual. Duke of Ormond and lord Bolingbroke were
absent. I stayed till near ten. Lord-treasurer
showed us a small picture, enamelled work, and set
in gold, worth about twenty pounds; a picture, I
mean, of the queen, which she gave to the duchess
of Marlborough, set in diamonds. When the duchess
was leaving England, she took off all the diamonds,
and gave the picture to one Mrs. Higgins (an old
intriguing woman, whom every body knows, bid-
ding her make the best of it she could. Lord-trea-
surer sent to Mrs. Higgins for this picture, and gave
her a hundred pounds for it. Was ever such an
ungrateful beast as that duchess? or did you ever
hear such a story
? I suppose the Whigs will not
believe it. Pray, try them. She takes off the dia-
monds, and gives away the picture to an insignificant
woman, as a thing of no consequence: and gives it
it to her to sell, like a piece of old-fashioned plate.
Is she not a detestable slut? Night, dear MD.
2
12. I went to court to-day, on purpose to present
Mr. Berkeley, one of your fellows of Dublin-college,
to lord Berkeley of Stratton. That Mr. Berkeley is
a very ingenious man and great philosopher, and I
have mentioned him to all the ministers, and have
given them some of his writings; and I will favour
him as much as I can. This 1 think I am bound to,
in honour and conscience, to use all my little credit
toward helping forward men of worth in the world.
The queen was at chapel to-day, and looks well.
dined at lord Orkney's, with the duke of Ormond,
lord Arran, and sir Thomas Hanmer. Mr. St. John,
secretary at Utrecht, expects every moment to return
there with the ratification of the peace. Did I tell
you in my last of Addison's play called Cato, and
that I was at the rehearsal of it? Night, MD.
I
13. This morning my friend Mr. Lewis came to
and showed me an order for a warrant for three
* Afterwards the celebrated bishop of Cloyne.
me,
deaneries; but none of them to me. This was what
I always foresaw, and received the notice of it better,
I believe, than he expected. I bid Mr. Lewis tell
my lord-treasurer that
lord-treasurer that I take nothing ill of him but
his not giving me timely notice, as he promised to
do, if he found the queen would do nothing for me.
At noon lord-treasurer, hearing I was in Mr. Lewis's
office, came to me, and said many things too long
to repeat. I told him I had nothing to do but go
to Ireland immediately; for I could not, with any
reputation, stay longer here, unless I had something
honourable immediately given to me. We dined
together at the duke of Ormond's. He there told
me he had stopped the warrants for the deans, that
what was done for me might be at the same time,
and he hoped to compass it to-night; but I believe
him not. I told the duke of Ormond my intentions.
He is content Sterne should be a bishop and I have
St. Patrick's; but I believe nothing will come of it,
for stay I will not; and so I believe, for all our
**** ****, you may see me in Dublin before April
ends. I am less out of humour than you would
imagine: and if it were not that impertinent people
will condole with me, as they used to give me joy,
I would value it less.
,
and muster up my baggage, and send them next
Monday by the carrier to Chester, and come and
see my willows, against the expectation of all
the world. What care I? Night, dearest rogues,
MD.
But I will avoid company 7
14. I dined in the city to-day, and ordered a
lodging to be got ready for me against I came to
pack up my things; for I will leave this end of the
town as soon as ever the warrants for the deaneries
are out, which are yet stopped. Loid-treasurer told
Mr. Lewis that it should be determined to-night:
and so he will say a hundred nights. So he said
yesterday, but I value it not. My daily journals
shall be but short till I get into the city, and then I
will send away this, and follow it myself; and de-
sign to walk it all the way to Chester, my man and
1, by ten miles a-day. It will do my health a great
deal of good. I shall do it in fourteen days. Night,
dear MD.
15. Lord Bolingbroke made me dine with him to-
day; I was as good company as ever; and told me
the queen would determine something for me to-
night. The dispute is, Windsor or St. Patrick's. I
told him I would not stay for their disputes, and he
thought I was in the right. Lord Masham told me
that lady Masham is angry I have not been to see
her since this business, and desires I will come to-
morrow. Night, dear MD.
16. I was this noon at lady Masham's, who was
just come from Kensington, where her eldest son is
sick. She said much to me of what she had talked
The poor lady
to the queen and lord-treasurer.
fell a shedding tears openly. She could not bear to
think of my having St. Patrick's, &c. I was neve:
more moved than to see so much friendship.
would not stay with her, but went and dined with
Dr. Arbuthnot, with Mr. Berkeley, one of your fel-
lows, whom I have recommended to the doctor and
to lord Berkeley of Stratton. Mr. Lewis telis me
that the duke of Ormond has been to-day with the
queen; and she was content that Dr. Sterne should
be bishop of Dromore and I dean of St. Patrick's;
but then out came lord-treasurer, and said he would
not be satisfied, but that I must be prebendary of
Windsor. Thus he perplexes things. I expect nei-
ther; but I confess, as much as I love England, I
am so angry at this treatment, that, if I had my
choice, I would rather have St. Patrick's. Lady
י
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
275
Masham says she will speak to the purpose to the
queen to-morrow. Night, dear MI).
17. I went to dine at Lady Masham's to-day, and
she was taken ill of a sore throat, and aquish. She
spoke to the queen last night, but had not much
time. The queen says she will determine to-mor-
row with lord-treasurer. The warrants for the
deaneries are still stopped, for fear I should be gone.
Do you think anything will be done! I don't care
whether it is or no. In the mean time I prepare
for my journey, and see no great people, nor will
see lord-treasurer any more. if I go. Lord-treasurer
told Mr. Lewis it should be done to-night; so he
said five nights ago. Night, MD.
18. This morning Mr. Lewis sent me word that
lord-treasurer told him the queen would determine
at noon. At three lord-treasurer sent to me to come
to his lodgings at St. James's, and told me the
queen was at last resolved that Dr. Sterne should be
bishop of Dromore and I dean of St. Patrick's; and
that Sterne's warrant should be drawn immediately.,
You know the deanery is in the duke of Ormond's
gift; but this is concerted between the queen, lord-
treasurer, and the duke of Ormond, to make room
for me. I do not know whether it will yet be done;
some unlucky accident may yet come.
Neither can
I feel joy at passing my days in Ireland; and I con-
fess I thought the ministry would not let me go;
but perhaps they can't help it. Night, MD.
19. I forgot to tell you that lord-treasurer forced
me to dine with him yesterday as usual, with his
Saturday company, which I did after frequent re-
fusals. To-day I dined with a private friend, and
was not at court. After dinner Mr. Lewis sent me
word that the queen stayed till she knew whether
the duke of Ormond approved of Sterne for a bishop.
I went this evening and found the duke of Ormond
at the cockpit, and told him, and desired he would
go to the queen and approve of Sterne. He made
objections, and desired I would name any other
deanery, for he did not like Sterne; that Sterne
never went to see him; that he was influenced by
the archbishop of Dublin, &c.; so all is now broken
again. I sent out for lord-treasurer, and told him
this. He says all will do well; but I value not what
he says. This suspense vexes me worse than any-
thing else. Night, MD.
20. I went to-day, by appointment, to the cock-
pit, to talk with the duke of Ormond. He repeated
the same proposals of any other deanery, &c. I de-
sired he would put me out of the case, and do as he
pleased. Then, with great kindness, he said he
would consent; but would do it for no man alive
but me, &c. And he will speak to the queen to-day
or to-morrow; so, perhaps, something will come of
it. I can't tell. Night, own dear MD.
21. The duke of Ormond has told the queen he
is satisfied that Sterne should be bishop, and she
consents I shall be dean; and I suppose the war-
rants will be drawn in a day or two. I dined at an
alehouse with Parnell and Berkeley; for I am not
in humour to go among the ministers, though lord
Dartmouth invited me to dine with him to-day, and
lord-treasurer was to be there. I said I would if I
were out of suspense. Night, dearest MD.
22. The queen says warrants shall be drawn, but
she will dispose of all in England and Ireland at
once, to be teased no more. This will delay it some
time; and, while it is delayed, I am not sure of the
queen, my enemies being busy. I hate this sus-
pense. Night, dear MD.
|
}
23. I died yesterday with general Hamilton: I
forgot to tell you. I write short journals now. I'
have eggs on the spit. This night the queen nas!
signed all the warrants, among which Sterne is
bishop of Dromore, and the duke of Ormond is to
send over an order for making me dean of St. Pa-
trick's. I have no doubt of him at all. I think 'tis
now past.. And I suppose MD is malicious enough
to be glad, and rather have it than Wells.
But you
see what a condition I am in. I thought I was to
pay but six hundred pounds for the house; but the
bishop of Clogher says eight hundred pounds; first-
fruits one hundred and fifty pounds, and so, with
patent, a thousand pounds in all; so that I shall not
be the better for the deanery these three years. I
hope in some time they will be persuaded here to
give me some money to pay off these debts. I must
finish the book I am writing before I can go over;
and they expect I shall pass next winter here, and
then I will drive them to give me a sum of money.
However, I hope to pass four or five months with
MD, whatever comes of it. I received yours to-
night; just ten weeks since I had your last. I shall
write next post to bishop Sterne. Never man had
so many enemies in Ireland as he. I carried it with
the strongest hand possible. If he does not use me
well and gently in what dealings I shall have with
him, he will be the most ungrateful of mankind.
The archbishop of York [Dr. Sharpe], my mortal
enemy, has sent, by a third hand, that he would be
glad to see me. Shall I see him or not? I hope to
be over in a month, and that MD, with their raillery,
will be mistaken, that I shall make it three years.
I will answer your letter soon, but no more jour-
nals. I shall be very busy. Short letters from
henceforward. I shall not part with Laracor. That
is all I have to live on, except the deanery be worth
more than four hundred pounds a-year. Is it? If
it be, overplus shall be divided *****, besides usual
*****. Pray write to me a good-humoured letter
immediately, let it be ever so short. This affair was
carried with great difficutly, which vexes me.
they say here it is much to my reputation that I have
made a bishop, in spite of all the world, to get the
best deanery in Ireland. Night, dear MD.
But
24. I forgot to tell you I had Sterne's letter yes-
terday, in answer to mine.
****** I made mis-
takes the last three days, and am forced to alter the
number. Idined in the city to-day with my printer,
and came home early, and am going to be busy with
my
my work.
I will send this to-morrow, and I sup-
pose the warrants will go then. I wrote to Dr.
Coghill to take care of passing my patent;
Parvisol to attend him with money, if he has any,
or to borrow some where he can. Night, MD.
25. Morning. I know not whether my warrant
he got ready from the duke of Ormond.
I suppose
it will by to-night. I am going abroad, and will
keep this unsealed till I know whether all be finished.
and to
I had this letter all day in my pocket, waiting
till I heard the warrants were gone over. Mr.
Lewis sent to Southwell's clerk at ten, and he said
the bishop of Killaloe [Dr. Thomas Lindsay] had
desired they should be stopped till next post. He
sent again that the bishop of Killaloe's business had
nothing to do with ours. Then I went myself, but
it was past eleven, and asked the reason. Killaloe
is removed to Raphoe, and he has a mind to have
an order for the rents of Raphoe that have fallen due
since the vacancy, and he would have all stop till he
has gotten that. A pretty request! But the clerk,
at Mr. Lewis's message, sent the warrants for Sterne
and me; but then it was too late to send this,
which frets me heartily, that MD should not have
intelligence first from Pdfr. I think to take a
T 2
276
JOURNAL TO STELLA.
hundred pounds a-year out of the deanery and di-
vide between ****, but will talk of that when I come
over. Night, dear MD. Love Pdfr.
26. I was at court to-day, and a thousand people
gave me joy: so I ran out. I dined with lady
Orkney. Yesterday I dined with lord-treasurer and
his Saturday people as usual; and was so bedeaned!
The archbishop of York says he will never more
speak against me. Pray see that Parvisol stirs
about getting my patent. I have given Tooke DD's
note to prove she is alive.
27. Nothing new to-day. I dined with Tom Har-
ley, &c. I' seal up this to-night. Pray write
80011. Farewell, MD, FW, Me, Lele.
LETTER THE SIXTY-FOURTH.
London, May 16, 1713.
I HAD yours, No. 10, yesterday. Your new bishop
acts very ungratefully. I cannot say so bad of him
as he deserves. I begged, by the same post his
warrant and mine went over, that he would leave
those livings to my disposal. I shall write this post
to him to let him know how ill I take it. I have
letters to tell me that I ought to think of employing
somebody to set the tithes of the deanery. I know
not what to do at this distance. I cannot be in
Ireland under a month. I will write two orders,
one to Parvisol, and the other to Parvisol and a
blank for whatever fellow the last dean employed;
and I would desire you to advise with friends which
to make use of: and if the latter, let the fellow's
name be inserted, and both act by commission. If
the former, then speak to Parvisol and know whe-
ther he can undertake it. I doubt it is hardly to be
done by a perfect stranger alone, as Parvisol is. He
may perhaps venture at all, to keep up his interest
with me, but that is needless, for I am willing to do
him any good that will do me no harm. Pray
advise with Walls and Raymond, and a little with
bishop Sterne for form. Tell Raymond I cannot
succeed to get him the living of Moimed.
presented here as a great sinecure. Several chap-
lains have solicited for it, and it has vexed me so,
It is re-
that, if I live, I will make it my business to serve him
better in something else. I am heartily sorry for his
illness, and that of the other two. If it be not ne-
cessary to let the tithes till a month hence you may
keep the two papers and advise well in the mean
time; and whenever it is absolutely necessary, then
I
give that paper which you are most advised to.
thank Mr. Walls for his letter. Tell him that must
serve for an answer, with my service to him and her.
I shall buy bishop Sterne's hair as soon as his
household goods. I shall be ruined, or at least
sadly cramped, unless the queen will give me a
tnousand pounds. I am sure she owes me a great
deal more. Lord-treasurer rallies me upon it, and
I believe intends it; but, quando? I am advised to
hasten over as soon as possible, and so I will, and
hope to set out the beginning of June. Take no
lodging for me. What? at your old tricks again? I
can lie somewhere after I land, and care not where
nor how. I will buy your eggs and bacon, ****
your caps and Bible; and pray think immediately,
and give me some commissions, and I will perform
them. The letter I sent before this was to have
gone a post before, but an accident hindered it, and
I assure you I am very angry MD did not write to
Pdfr, and I think you might have had a dean unde:
your girdle for the superscription. I have just
finished my treatise, and must be ten days in cor-
recting it. Farewell, dearest MD, FW, Me, Lele.
You'll seal the two papers after my name.
to
"London, May 16, 1713.
"I appoint Mr. Isaiah Parvisol and Mr.
set and let the tithes of the deanery of St. Patrick's
for the present year.
In witness whereof, I have
hereunto set my hand and seal, the day and year
above written.
JONAT. SWIFT."
"London, May 16, 1713.
"I do hereby appoint Mr. Isaiah Parvisol my
proctor, to set and let the tithes of the deanery of
St. Patrick's. In witness whereof, I have hereunto
set my hand and seal, the day and year above
written.
JONAT. SWIFT."
LETTER THE SIXTY-FIFTH.
Chester, June 6, 1713,
you will.
I AM come here after six days. I set out on Mon-
day last, and got here to-day about eleven in the
morning. A noble rider, faith! and all the ships
and people went off yesterday with a rare wind.
This was told me, to my comfort, upon my arrival.
Having not used riding these three years, made me
terrible weary, yet I resolve on Monday to set out
for Holyhead, as weary as I am: 'tis good for my
health, man. When I came here I found MD's
letter of the 26th of May sent down to me. Had
you written a post sooner I might have brought
some pins, but you were lazy, and could not write
your orders immediately, as I desired you. I will
come when God pleases; perhaps I may be with
you in a week. I will be three days going to Ho-
lyhead; I cannot ride faster, say what
I am upon Stay-behind's mare. I have the whole
inn to myself. I would fain 'scape this Holyhead
journey; but I have no prospect of ships, and it will
be almost necessary I should be in Dublin before the
25th instant, to take the oaths, otherwise I must wait
to a quarter session.
I will lodge as I can, there-
fore take no lodgings for me to pay in my absence.
The poor dean can't afford it. 1 spoke again to the
duke of Ormond about Moimed for Raymond, and
hope he may yet have it, for I laid it strongly to the
duke, and gave him the bishop of Meath's memorial.
I am sorry for Raymond's fistula; tell him so.
will speak to lord-treasurer about Mrs. South to-
morrow. Odso! I forgot; I thought I had been
in London. Mrs. Tisdall is very big, ready to lie
down. Her husband is a puppy. Do his feet stink
still? The letters to Ireland go at so uncertain au
hour that I am forced to conclude. Farewell, MD
FW, Me, Lele, &c.
His history of the Peace of Utrecht.
I
1
277
MEMOIRS
RELATING TO THAT CHANGE WHICH HAPPENED IN QUEEN
ANNE'S MINISTRY IN THE YEAR 1710.
Many particulars in these memoirs are remarkably confirmed
by a publication in which the reader would the least expect
liem, in "An Account of the Conduct of the Dowager Duchess
of Marlborough, from her first coming to Court, to the year 1740,
u a letter from herself to my Lord -;" printed in 1742.
HAVING Continued for near the space of four years
in a good degree of confidence with the ministry
then in being, although not with so much power as
was believed, or at least given out by my friends, as
well as by my enemies, especially the latter, in both
houses of parliament; and this having happened
during a very busy period of negotiations abroad
and managenient of intrigue at home, I thought it
might probably, some years hence, when the present
scene shall have given place to many new ones that
will arise, be an entertainment to those who will
have any personal regard for me or my memory to
set down some particularities which tell under my
knowledge and observation, while I was supposed,
whether truly or not, to have part in the secret of
affairs.
notice of some passages wherein the public and
myself were jointly concerned; not to mention that
the chief cause of giving myself this trouble is to
satisfy my particular friends; and at worst, if, after
the fate of manuscripts, these papers shall, by acci-
dent or indiscretion, fall into the public view, they
will be no more liable to ceusure than other me-
moirs, published for many years past, in English,
French, and Italian. The period of time I design
to treat on will commence with September, 1710;
from which time, till within two months of the
queen's death, I was never absent from court, except
about six weeks in Ireland.
But, because the great change of employments in
her majesty's family, as well as the kingdom, was
begun sonie months before, and had been thought
on from the time of Dr. Sacheverel's trial, while I
was absent and lived retired in Ireland, I shail en-
deavour to recollect, as well as I am able, sowe
particulars I learned from the earl of Oxford, the
lord-viscount Bolingbroke, the lady Masham, and
doctor Atterbury, who were best able to inform me.
It was
One circumstance I am a little sorry for, that I
was too negligent (against what I had always re- I have often, with great earnestness, pressed the
solved, and blamed others for not doing) in taking earl of Oxford, then lord treasurer, and my lady
hints, or journals, of every material as it passed, Masham, who were the sole persons which brought
whereof i omitted many that I cannot now recollect, about that great change, to give me a particular ac-
although I was convinced by a thousand instances count of every circumstance and passage during the
of the weakness of my memory. But, to say the whole transaction. Nor did this request proceed
truth, the nearer knowledge any man has in the from curiosity, or the ambition of knowing and pub-
affairs at court, the less he thinks them of conse-lishing important secrets; but from a sincere honest
quence, or worth regarding. And those kind of
passages which I have with curiosity found or
searched for in memoirs, I wholly neglected when
they were freely communicated to me from the first
hand, or were such wherein I acted myself. This I
take to be one among other reasons why great
ministers seldom gişe themselves the trouble of re-
cording the important parts of that administration
where they themselves are at the head. They have
extinguished all that vanity which usually possesses
men during their first acquaintance at courts; and,
like the masters of a puppet-show, they despise
those motions which fill common spectators with
wonder and delight. However, upon frequently
recollecting the course of affairs during the time I
was either trusted or employed, I am deceived if in
history there can be found any period more full of
passages which the curious of another age would be
glad to know the secret springs of, or whence
more useful instructions may be gathered, for direct
ing the conduct of those who shall hereafter have
the good or ill fortune to be engaged in business of
the state.
It may probably enough happen that those who
shall at any time hereafter peruse these papers may
think it not suitable to the nature of them, that
upon occasion I sometimes make mention of myself,
who, during these transactions, and ever since, was
a person without titles or public employment. But,
since the chief leaders of the faction, then out of
power, were pleased, in both houses of parliament,
to take every opportunity of showing their malice
by mentioning me (and often by name) as one who
was in the secret of all affairs, and without whose
advice or privity nothing was done, or employment
disposed of, it will not, perhaps, be improper to take
design of justifying the queen in the measures she
then took, and afterwards pursued, against a load of
scandal, which would certainly be thrown on her
memory with some appearance of truth.
easy to foresee, even at that distance, that the queen
could not live many years; and it was sufficiently
known what party was most in the good graces of
the successor, and, consequently, what turns would
be given by historians to her majesty's proceedings,
under a reign where directly contrary measures
would probably be taken. For instance, what
would be more easy to a malicious pen than to
charge the queen with inconstaney, weakness, and
ingratitude, in removing and disgracing the duke of
Marlborough, who had so many years commanded
her armies with victory and success; in displacing
so many great officers of her court and kingdom, by
whose counsels she had, in all appearance, so pros-
perously governed; in extending the marks of her
severity and displeasure toward the wife and daugh-
ters, as well as relations and allies, of that person
she had so long employed and so highly trusted;
and all this by the private intrigues of a woman of
her bedchamber, in concert with an artful man, who
might be supposed to have acted that bold part ouly
from a motive of revenge upon the loss of his employ-
ments, or of ambition to come again into power?
These are some of the arguments I often made
use of, with great freedom, both to the earl of Oxford
and my lady Masham, to incite them to furnish me
with materials for a fair account of thar grest trans-
action; to which they always seemed as well dis-
posed as myself.
posed as myself. My lady Masham did likewise
assure me, that she had frequently informed the
queen of my request, which her majesty thought
very reasonable, and did appear, upon all occasions,
278
MEMOIRS RELATING TO THE CHANGE
་
as desirous of preserving reputation with posterity
as might justly become a great prince to be. But
that incurable disease, either of negligence or pro-
crastination, which influenced every action both of
the queen and the earl of Oxford, did, in some sort,
infect every one who had credit or business in the
court; for, after soliciting near four years to obtain
a point of so great importance to the queen and her
servants, whence I could propose nothing but
trouble, malice, and envy to myself, it was per-
petually put off.
The scheme I offered was, to write her majesty's
reign; and that this work might not look officious
or affected, I was ready to accept the historiogra-
pher's place, although of inconsiderable value, and
of which I might be sure to be deprived upon the
queen's death. This negligence in the queen, the
earl of Oxford, and my lady Masham, is the cause
that I can give but an imperfect account of the årst
springs of that great change at court after the trial
of doctor Sacheverel; my memory not serving me to
retain all the facts related to me: but what I re-
member I shall here set down.
There was not perhaps in all England a person
who understood more artificially to disguise her pas-
sions than the late queen. Upon her first coming
to the throne the duchess of Marlborough had lost
all favour with her, as her majesty has often acknow-
ledged to those who have told it me. That lady had
long preserved an ascendant over her mistress while
she was princess; which her majesty, when she
came to the crown, had neither patience to bear
nor spirit to subdue. This princess was so exact an
observer of forms, that she seemed to have made it
her study, and would often descend so low as to ob-
serve, in her domestics of either sex who came into
her presence, whether a ruffle, a periwig, or the
lining of a coat, were unsuitable at certain times.
The duchess, on the other side, who had been used
to great familiarities, could not take it into her head
that any change of station should put her upon
changing her behaviour; the continuance of which
was the more offensive to her majesty, whose other
servants, of the greatest quality, did then treat her
with the utmost respect.
The earl of Godolphin held in favour about three
years longer, and then declined, although he kept
his office till the general change. I have heard.
several reasons given for her majesty's early disgust
against that lord. The duchess, who had long been
his friend, often prevailed on him to solicit the queen
upon things very unacceptable to her; which her
majesty liked the worse, as knowing whence they
originally came: and his lordship, although he en-
deavoured to be as respectful as his nature would
permit him, was, upon all occasions, much too arbi- |
trary and obtruding.
To the duke of Marlborough she was wholly in-
different (as her nature in general prompted her to
be), until his restless impatient behaviour had
turned her against him.
The queen had not a stock of amity to serve above
one object at a time; and, further than a bare good
or ill opinion, which she soon contracted and
changed, and very often upon light grounds, she
could hardly be said either to love or to hate any-
body. She grew so jealous upon the change of her
servants that often, out of fear of being imposed
upon.
by an over-caution she would impose upon
herself: she took a delight in refusing those who
were thought to have greatest power with her, even
in the most reasonable things, and such as were
necessary for her service; nor would let them be
done till she fell into the humour of it herself.
Upon the grounds I have already related, her ma-
jesty had gradually conceived a most rooted aversion
from the duke and duchess of Marlborough and the
earl of Godolphin; which spread in time through all
their allies and relations, particularly to the earl of
Hertford, whose ungovernable temper had made him
fail in his personal respects to her majesty. This
I take to have been the principal ground of the
queen's resolutions to make a change of some officers
both in her family and kingdom; and that these
resolutions did not proceed from any real apprehen-
sion she had of danger to the church or monarchy:
for, although she had been strictly educated in
the former, and very much approved its doctrine and
discipline, yet she was not so ready to foresee any
attempts against it by the party then presiding. But
the fears that most influenced her were such as con-
cerned her own power and prerogative, which those
nearest about her were making daily encroachments
upon, by their undutiful behaviour and unreasonable
demands. The deportment of the duchess of Marl-
borough, while the prince lay expiring, was of such
a nature that the queen, then in the height of grief,
was not able to bear it; but with marks of displea-
sure in her countenance, she ordered the duchess to
withdraw and send Mrs. Masham to her.
SO
I forgot to relate an affair that happened, as I re-
member, about a twelvemonth before prince George's
death. This prince had long conceived an incurable
aversion from that party, and was resolved to use his
utmost credit with the queen his wife to get rid of
them. There fell out an incident which seemed to
favour this attempt; for the queen, resolving to be-
stow a regiment upon Mr. Hill, brother to Mrs.
Masham, signified her pleasure to the duke of Marl-
borough; who, in a manner not very dutiful, refused
his consent, and retired in anger to the country.
After some hcats, the regiment was given to a third
person. But the queen resented this matter
highly, which she thought had been promoted by the
earl of Godolphin, that she resolved immediately to
remove the latter. I was told, and it was then gene-
rally reported, that Mr. St. John carried a letter
from her majesty to the duke of Marlborough, sigui-
fying her resolution to take the staff from the earl of
Godolphin, and that she expected his grace's com-
pliance; to which the duke returned a very humble
answer. I cannot engage for this passage, it having
never come into my head to ask Mr. St. John about
it; but the account Mr. Harley and he gave me was,
that the duke of Marlborough and the earl of Godol-
phin had concerted with them upon a moderating
scheme, wherein some of both parties should be em-
ployed, but with a more favourable aspect toward
the church that a meeting was appointed for com-
pleting this work that in the mean time the duke
and duchess of Marlborough and the earl of Godol-
phin were secretly using their utmost efforts with
the queen to turn Mr. Harley (who was then secre-
tary of state) and all his friends out of their em-
ployments: that the queen, on the other side, who
had a great opinion of Mr. Harley's integrity and
abilities, would not consent, and was determined to
remove the carl of Godolphin. This was not above
a month before the season of the year when the duke
of Marlborough was to embark for Flanders; and
the very night in which Mr. Harley and his friends
had appointed to meet his grace and the carl of Go-
dolphin, George Churchill, the duke's brother, who
was in good credit with the prince, told his highness,
"That the duke was firmly determined to lay down
his command if the earl of Godolphin went cut, or
Mr. Harley and his friends were suffered to con-
tinue in." The prince, thus intimidated by
IN QUEEN ANNE'S MINISTRY.
27€
Churchill, reported the matter to the queen; and,
the time and service pressing, her majesty was un-
willingly forced to yield. The two great lords failed
the appointment; and the next morning the duke,
at his levee, said aloud, in a careless manner, to
those who stood round him, That Mr. Harley was
turned out."
Upon the prince's death, November 1708, the two
great lords so often mentioned, who had been for
some years united with the low church party, and
had long engaged to take them into power, were
now in a capacity to make good their promises,
which his highness had ever most strenuously op-
posed. The lord Somers was made president of the
council, the earl of Wharton lieutenant of Ireland,
and some others of the same stamp were put into
considerable posts.
It should seem to me that the duke and earl were
not very willingly drawn to impart so much power
to those of that party, who expected these removals
for some years before, and were always put off upon
pretence of the prince's unwillingness to have them
employed. And I remember, some months before
his highness's death, my lord Somers, who is a per-
son of reserve enough, complained to me with great
freedom of the ingratitude of the duke and carl, who,
after the service he and his friends had done them
in making the Union, would hardly treat them with
common civility. Neither shall I ever forget that he
readily owned to me that the Union was of no other
service to the nation than by giving a remedy to that
evil which my lord Godolphin had brought upon us
by persuading the queen to pass the Scotch act of
security. But to return from this digression.
Upon the admission of these men into employ
ments, the court soon ran into extremity of low
church measures; and although, in the house of
commons, Mr. Harley, sir Simon Harcourt, Mr. St.
John, and some others, made great and bold stands
in defence of the constitution, yet they were always
borne down by a majority.
to seize the duke at the head of his troops, and bring
either dead or alive.”
him
away
About this time happened the famous trial of Dr.
Sacheverel, which arose from a foolish passionate
pique of the earl of Godolphin, whom this divine
was supposed, in a sermon, to have reflected on un-
der the name of Volpone, as my lord Somers, a few
months after, confessed to me; and, at the same
time, that he had earnestly, and in vain, endeavoured
to dissuade the earl from that attempt. However,
the impeachment went on, in the form and manner
which everybody knows; and, therefore, there need
not be anything said of it here.
Mr. Harley, who came up to town during the
time of the impeachment, was, by the intervention
of Mrs. Masham, privately brought to the queen;
and in some meetings easily convinced her majesty
of the dispositions of her people, as they appeared
in the course of that trial, in favour of the church,
It
and against the measures of those in her service.
was not without a good deal of difficulty that Mr.
Harley was able to procure this private access to the
queen; the duchess of Marlborough. by her emissa-
ries, watching all the avenues to the back-stairs, and
upon all occasions discovering their jealousy of
him whereof he told me a passage, no otherwise
worth relating than as it gives an idea of an in-
solent, jealous minister, who would wholly engross
the power and favour of his sovereign. Mr. Harley,
upon his removal from the secretary's office, by the
intrigues of the duke of Marlborough and the earl of
Godolphin, as I have above related, going out of
town, was met by the latter of these two lords near
Kensington gate. The earl, in a high fit of jealousy,
goes immediately to the queen, reproaches her for
privately seeing Mr. Harley, and was hardly so civil
as to be convinced by her majesty's frequeut pro-
testations to the contrary.
These suspicions. I say, made it hard for her ma-
jesty and Mr. Harley to have private interviews:
neither bad he made use of the opportunities he met
with to open himself so much to her as she seemed
to expect, and desired; although Mrs. Masham, in
right of her station in the bedchamber, had taken
all proper occasions of pursuing what Mr. Harley
had begun. In this critical juncture, the queen,
hemmed in, and as it were imprisoned, by the
duchess of Marlborough and her creatures, was at a
loss how to proceed. One evening a letter was
brought to Mr. Harley, all dirty, and by the hand of
a very ordinary messenger.
He read the super-
scription, and saw it was the queen's writing. He
sent for the messenger, who said," He know not
whence the letter came, but that it was delivered
him by an under-gardener.” I forget whether of
Hampton Court or Kensington. The letter men-
tioned the difficulties her majesty was under; blam-
It was, I think, during this period of time that the
duke of Marlborough, whether by a motive of ambi-
tion, or a love of money, or by the rash counsels of
his wife the duchess, made that bold attempt of de-
siring the queen to give him a commission to be
general for life.
"That
Her majesty's answer was,
she would take time to consider it ;" and, in the
mean while, the duke advised with the lord Cowper,
then chancellor, about the form in which the com-
mission should be drawn. The chancellor, very
much to his honour, endeavoured to dissuade the
duke from engaging in so dangerous an affair, and
protested "he would never put the great seal to
such a commission.” But the queen was highly
alarmed at this extraordinary proceeding in the
duke; and talked to a person whom she had taken
iuto confidence, as if she apprehended an attempting him for "not speaking with more freedom and
upon the crown. The duke of Argyle, aud one or
two more lords, were (as I have been told) in a very
private manner brought to the queen. This duke
was under great obligations to the duke of Marl-
borough, who had placed him in a high station in
the army, preferred many of his friends, and pro-
cured him the garter. But his unquiet and ambitious
spirit, never easy while there was any one above
him, made him, upon some trifling resentments,
conceive an inveterate hatred against his general.
When he was consulted what course should be taken
upon the duke of Marlborough's request to be gene-
ral for life, and whether any danger might be appre-
hended from the refusal, I was told he suddenly
answered, That her majesty need not be in pain,
for he would undertake, whenever she commanded,
more particularly, and desiring his assistance."
With this encouragement he went more frequently,
although still as private as possible, to the back-
stairs; and from that time began to have entire
eredit with the queen. He then told her of the
dangers to her crown, as well as to the church and
monarchy itself, from the counsels and actions of
some of her servants: "That she ought gradually to
lessen the exorbitant power of the duke and duchess
of Marlborough and the earl of Godolphin, by
taking the disposition of employments into her own
hands that it did not become her to be a slave
to a party, but to reward those who may deserve by
their duty and loyalty, whether they were such as
were called of the high church on low church,”
short, whatever views he had then in his own breast,
In
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MEMOIRS RELATING TO THE CHANGE
or how far soever he intended to proceed, the turn
of his whole discourse was intended, in appearance,
only to put the queen upon what they called a mo-
derating scheme; which, however, made so strong
an impression upon her, that when this minister, led
by the necessity of affairs, the general disposition of
the people, and probably by his own inclinations,
put her majesty upon going greater lengths than she
had first intended, it put him upon innumerable dif-
ficulties, and some insuperable; as we shall see in
the progress of this change.
Her majesty, pursuant to Mr. Harley's advice, re-
solved to dispose of the first great employment that,
fell, according to her own pleasure, without consult-
ing any of her ministers. To put this in execution,
an opportunity soon happened, by the death of the
earl of Essex, whereby the lieutenancy of the Tower
became vacant. It was agreed between the queen
and Mr. Harley that the earl Rivers should go im-
mediately to the duke of Marlborough and desire his
grace's good offices with the queen to procure him
that post. The earl went accordingly; was received
with abundance of professions of kindness by the
duke, who said, "The lieutenancy of the Tower
was not worth his lordship's acceptance ;" and de-
sired him to think of something else. The earl still
insisted, and the duke still continued to put him off;
at length, lord Rivers desired his grace's consent to
let him go himself and beg this favour of the queen;
and hoped he might tell her majesty “his grace had
no objection to him." All this the duke readily
All this the duke readily
agreed to, as a matter of no consequence. The earl
went to the queen, who immediately gave orders for
his commission. He had not long left the queen's
presence, when the duke of Marlborough, suspecting
nothing that would happen, went to the queen, and
told her, "The lieutenancy of the Tower falling void
by the death of the earl of Essex, he hoped her ma-
jesty would bestow it upon the duke of Northum-
berland, and give the Oxford regiment, then com-
manded by that duke, to the earl of Hertford." The
queen said "He was come too late; that she had
already granted the lieutenancy to earl Rivers, who
had told her that he (the duke) had no objection to
him."
The duke, much surprised at this new man-
ner of treatment, and making complaints in her ma-
jesty's presence, was, however, forced to submit.
The queen went on by slow degrees. Not to
mention some changes of lesser moment, the duke of
Kent was forced to compound for his chamberlain's
staff, which was given to the duke of Shrewsbury,
while the earl of Godolphin was out of town, I think
at Newmarket. His lordship, on the first news,
came immediately up to court; but the thing was
done, and he made as good a countenance to the
duke of Shrewsbury as he was capable of. The cir-
cumstances of the earl of Sunderland's removal, and
the reasons alleged, are known enough. His un-
governable temper had overswayed him to fail in his
respects to her majesty's person.
Meantime both parties stood at gaze, not knowing
to what these steps would lead, or where they would
end. The earl of Wharton, then in Ireland, being
deceived by various intelligence from hence, endea-
voured to hide his uneasiness as well as he could.
Some of his sanguine correspondents had sent him
word that the queen began to stop her hand, and the
church party to despond. At the same time the duke
of Shrewsbury happened to send him a letter filled
with great expressions of civility. The earl was so
weak, upon reading it, as to cry out, before two or
three standers-by, "Damn him, he is making fair
weather with me; but, by G-d, I will have his
Dead."
But these short hopes were soon blasted,
!
by taking the treasurer's staff from the earl of
Godolphin; which was done in a manner not very
gracious, her majesty sending him a letter, by a very
ordinary messenger, commanding him to break it.
The treasury was immediately put into commission,
with earl Poulett at the head; but Mr. Harley, who
was one of the number, and at the same time made
chancellor of the exchequer, was already supposed
to preside behind the curtain.
Upon the fall of that great minister and favourite,
that whole party became dispirited, and seemed to
expect the worst that could follow. The earl of
Wharton immediately desired and obtained leave to
come for England; leaving that kingdom, where he
had behaved himself with the utmost profligateness,
injustice, arbitrary proceedings, and corruption, with
the hatred and detestation of all good men, even of
his own party.
And here, because my coming into the knowledge
of the new ministry began about this time, I must
digress a little, to relate some circumstances previ-
ous to it.
Although I had been for many years before no
stranger at court, and had made the nature of go-
vernment a great part of my study, yet I had dealt
very little with politics, either in writing or acting,
until about a year before the late king William's
death; when, returning with the earl of Berkeley
from Ireland, and falling upon the subject of the five
great lords who were then impeached, for high crimes
and misdemeanors, by the house of commons, I
happened to say, "That the same manner of pro-
ceeding, at least appeared to me from the news we
received of it in Ireland, had ruined the liberties of
Athens and Rome; and that it might be easy to
prove it from history." Soon after I went to London;
and, in a few weeks, drew up a discourse, under
the title of "The Contests and Dissensious of the
Nobles and Commous in Athens and Rome, with
the Consequences they had upon both those States.”
This discourse I sent very privately to the press, with
the strictest injunctions to conceal the author, and
returned immediately to my residence in Ireland.
The book was greedily bought and read; and
charged some time upon my lord Somers, and some
time upon the bishop of Salisbury; the latter of
whom told me afterward, "That he was forced to
disown it in a very public manner, for fear of an
impeachment, wherewith he was threatened.”
Returning next year for England, and hearing
of the great approbation this piece had received
(which was the first I ever printed), I must confess,
the vanity of a young man prevailed with me to let
myself be known for the author: upon which my
lords Somers and Halifax, as well as the bishop above
mentioned, desired my acquaintance, with great
marks of esteem and professions of kindness—not
to mention the earl of Sunderland, who had been
my old acquaintance. They lamented that they were
not able to serve me since the death of the king;
and were very liberal in promising me the greatest
preferments I could hope for, if ever it came in their
power. I soon grew domestic with lord Halifax,
and was as often with lord Somers as the formality of
his nature (the only unconversable fault he had)
made it agreeable to me.
It was then I began to trouble myself with the
differences between the principles of Whig and Tory;
having formerly employed myself in other, and I think
much better speculations. I talked often upon this
subject with lord Somers; to d him, "That, having
been long conversant with the Creek and Roman
authors, and therefore a lover of liberty, I found
myself much inclined to be what they call a Whig
1
IN QUEEN ANNE'S MINISTRY.
231
b
in politics; and that, besides, 1 thought it impossible
upon any other principle to defend or submit to the
Revolution; but as to religion, I confessed myself to be
a high churchman, and that I did not conceive how any
one who wore the habit of a clergyman could be other-
wise: that I had observed very well with what inso-
lence and haughtiness some lords of the high-church
party treated not only theirown chaplains, but all other
clergymen whatsoever, and thought this was suffici-
ently recompensed by their professions of zeal to the
church that I had likewise observed how the Whig
lords took a direct contrary measure, treated the
persons of particular clergymen with great courtesy,
but showed much ill will and contempt for the order
in general: that I knew it was necessary for their
party to make their bottom as wide as they could, by
taking all denominations of protestants to be mem-
bers of their body: that I would not enter into the
mutual reproaches made by the violent men on either
side but that the connivance or encourageinent
given by the Whigs to those writers of pamphlets,
who reflected upon the whole body of the clergy
without any exception would unite the church, as
one man, to oppose them: and that I doubted his
lordship's friends did not consider the consequence
of this.'
My lord Somers in appearance entered very warmly
into the same opinion, and said very much of the
endeavours he had often used to redress that evil I
complained of. This his lordship, as well as my lord
Halifax (to whom I have talked in the same manner),
can very well remember: and I have indeed been
told by an honourable gentleman of the same party
"That both their lordships, about the time of lord
Godolphin's removal, did, upon occasion, call to
mind what I had said to them five years before."
In my journeys to England I continued upon the
same foot of acquaintance with the two lords last
mentioned until the time of prince George's death;
when the queen, who, as is before related, had for
some years favoured that party, now made lord
Somers president of the council, and the earl of
Wharton lieutenant of Ireland. Being then in
London, I received letters from some bishops of
Ireland to solicit the earl of Wharton about the
remittal of the first-fruits and tenths to the clergy
there, which the queen had long promised, and
wherein I had been employed before, with some
hopes of success from the earl of Godolphin. It
was the first time I ever was in company with the
earl of Wharton: he received me with sufficient
coldness, and answered the request I made in behalf
of the clergy from very poor and lame excuses, which
amounted to a refusal. I complained of this usage
to lord Somers, who would needs bring us together
to his house, and presented me to him; where he
received me as drily as before.
It was everybody's opinion that the earl of Whar-
ton would endeavour, when he went to Ireland, to
take off the test, as a step to have it taken off here;
upon which, I drew up and printed a pamphlet, by
way of a letter from a member of parliament here,
showing the danger to the church by such an intent.
Although I took all care to be private, yet the licute-
nant's chaplain, and some others, guessed me to be
the author, and told his excellency their suspicions;
whereupon 1 saw him no more until I went to Ire-
land. At my taking leave of lord Somers, he desired
I would carry a letter from him to the earl of
Wharton, which I absolutely refused; yet he ordered
it to be left at my lodgings. I stayed some months
in Leicestershire, went to Ireland, and immediately
upon my landing retired to my country parish with-
out seeing the lieutenant or any other person, re-
|
7
solving to send him lord Somers's letter by the post,
But, being called up to town by the incessant in-
treaties of my friends, I went and delivered my letter,
and immediately withdrew. During the greatest
part of his government I lived in the country, saw
the lieutenant very seldom when I came to town,
nor ever entered into the least degree of confidence
with him, or his friends, except his secretary, Mr.
Addison, who had been my old and intimate acquaint-
ance. Upon the news of great changes here, he
affected very much to caress me; which I understood
well enough to have been an old practice with him,
in order to render men odious to the church party.
I mention these insignificant particulars, as it will
be easily judged, for some reasons that are purely
personal to myself; it having been objected by seve-
ral of those poor pamphleteers, who have blotted so
much paper to show their malice against me, that I
was a favourer of the low party; whereas it has been
manifest to all men that, during the highest domi-
nion of that faction, I had published several tracts
in opposition to the measures then taken; for in-
stahce, "A Project for the Reformation of Manners,
in a Letter to the Countess of Berkeley; The
Sentiments of a Church-of-England Man;"
"An
Argument against abolishing Christiauity;" and
lastly,
lastly, "A Letter to a Member of Parliament against
taking off the Test in Ireland." which I have already
mentioned to have been published at the time the
earl of Wharton was setting out to his government
of that kingdom. But those who are loud and violent
in coffeehouses, although generally they do a cause
more hurt than good, yet will seldom allow any other
merit; and it is not to such as these that I attempt
to vindicate myself.
About the end of August, 1710, I went for Eng-
land, at the desire and by the appointment of the
archbishops and bishops of that kingdom, under
whose hands I had a commi-sion to solicit, in con-
junction with two bishops who were then in London,
the first-fruits and tenths to the clergy, which had
been many years solicited in vain. Upon my ar-
rival in town I found the two bishops were gone
into the country, whereupon I got myself introduced
to Mr. Harley, who was then chancellor of the ex-
chequer, and acted as first minister. He received
me with great kindness; told me that he and his
friends had long expected my arrival;" and, upon
showing my commission, immediately undertook to
perform it, which he accordingly did in less than
three weeks, having settled it at five meetings with
the queen, according to the scheme I offered him,
and got me the queen's promise for a further and more
important favour to the clergy of Ireland, which the
bishops there, deceived by misinformation not worth
memioning in this paper, prevented me from bringing
to a good issue.
When the affair of the first-fruits was fully de-
spatched. I returned my humble thanks to Mr.
Harley, in the name of the clergy of Ireland, and in
my own, and offered to take my leave, as intending
immediately to return to that kingdom. Mr. Har-
ley told me He and his friends knew very well
what useful things I had written against the prin-
ciples of the late discarded faction, and that my per-
sonal esteem for several among them would not
make me a favourer of their cause: that there was
now entirely a new scene: that the queen was re-
solved to employ none but those who were friends
to the constitution of church and state. that their
great difficulty lay in the want of some good pen,
to keep up the spirit raised in the people, to assert
the principles and justify the proceedings of the new
ministers." Upon that
Upon that subject he fell into some
}
282
MEMOIRS RELATING TO THE CHANGE
persoral civilitics, which will not become me to
repeat, He added, "That this province was in the
hands of several persons, among whom some were
too busy, and others too idle, to pursue it ;" and con-
cluded, "That it should be his particular care to
establish me here in England, and represent me to
the queen as a person they could not be without.”
I promised to do my endeavours in that way for
some few months. To which he replied, "He ex-
pected no more. and that he had other and greater
occasions for me."
Upon the rise of this ministry, the principal per-
sons in power thought it necessary that some weekly
paper should be published, with just reflections upon
former proceedings, and defending the present mea-
sures of her majesty. This was begun about the
time of the lord Godolphin's removal, under the
name of The Examiner. About a dozen of these
papers, written with much spirit and sharpness,
some by Mr. secretary St. John, since lord Boling-
broke; others by Dr. Atterbury, since bishop of
Rochester; and others again by Mr. Prior, Dr.
Freind, &c., were published with great applause.
But these gentlemen being grown weary of the
work, or otherwise employed, the determination was
that I should continue it, which I did accordingly
about eight months. But my style being soon dis-
covered, and having contracted a great number of
enemies, I let it fall into other hands, who held it |
up in some manner until her majesty's death.
It was Mr. Harley's custom every Saturday that
four or five of his most intimate friends among those
he had taken in upon the great change made at
court should dine at his house, and after about two
months' acquaintance I had the honour always to be
one of the number. This company, at first, consisted
only of the lord-keeper Harcourt, the earl Rivers,
the earl of Peterborough, Mr. secretary St. John,
and myself; and here, after dinner, they used to dis-
course and settle matters of great importance. Se-
veral other lords were afterward, by degrees, ad-
mitted; as the dukes of Ormond, Shrewsbury, and
Argyle; the earls of Anglesey, Dartmouth, and Pou-
lett; the lord Berkeley, &c. These meetings were
always continued, except when the queen was at
Windsor; but, as they grew more numerous, became
of less consequence, and ended only in drinking and
general conversation, of which I may perhaps have
occasion to speak hereafter.
My early appearance at these meetings, which
many thought to be of greater consequence than
really they were, could not be concealed, although
I used all my endeavours to that purpose. This
gave the occasion to some great men, who thought
me already in the secret, to complain to me of the
suspicions entertained by many of our friends in re-
lation to Mr. Harley, even before he was lord-trea-
surer; so early were sown those seeds of discontent
which afterwards grew up so high! The cause of
complaint was, that so great a number of the adverse
party continued ir employment, and some, particu-
larly the duke of Somerset and earl Cholmondeley,
in great stations at court.-They could not believe
Mr. Harley was in earnest; but that he designed to
constitute a motley comprehensive administration,
which, they said, the kingdom would never endure.
I was once invited to a meeting of some lords and
gentlemen, where these grievances were at large
related to me, with an earnest desire that I would
represent them in the most respectful manner to Mr.
Harley, upon a supposition that I was in high credit
with him. I excused myself from such an office,
upon the newness of my acquaintance with Mr.
Harley. However, I represented the matter fairly
|
to him, against which he argued a good deal from
the general reasons of politicians, the necessity of
keeping men in hopes, the danger of disobliging
those who must remain unprovided for, and the like
usual topics among statesmen. But there was a
secret in this matter which neither I, nor indeed
any of his most intimate friends, were then apprised
of; neither did he, at that time, enter with me fur-
ther than to assure me very solemnly "that no
person should have the smallest employment, either
civil or military, whose principles were not firm for
the church and monarchy."
However, these over-moderate proceedings in the
court gave rise to a party in the house of commons,
which appeared under the name of the October Club;
a fantastic appellation, found out to distinguish a
number of country gentlemen and their adherents,
who professed, in the greatest degree, what was
called the high church principle. They grew in
number to almost a third part of the house, held
their meetings at certain times and places, and there
concerted what measures they were to take in par-
liament. They professed their jealousy of the court
and ministry; declared, upon all occasions, their de-
sire of a more general change, as well as of a strict
| inquiry into former mismanagement, and seemed to
expect that those in power should openly avow the
old principles in church and state. I was then of
opinion, and still continue so, that if this body of
men could have remained some time united, they
would have put the crown under a necessity of act-
ing in a more steady aud strenuous manner.
Mr. Harley, who best knew the disposition of the
queen, was forced to break their measures, which
he did by that very obvious contrivance of dividing
them among themselves and reudering them jealous
of each other. The ministers gave everywhere out
that the October Club were their friends, and acted
by their directions; to confirm which, Mr. secretary
St. John, and Mr. Bromley, afterwards chancellor
of the exchequer, publicly died with them at one of
their meetings. Thus were cluded all the conse-
quences of that assembly, although a remnant of
them, who conceived themselves betrayed by the rest,
did afterward meet under the denomination of the
March Club, but without any effect.
But
The parliament which then rose had been chosen
without any endeavours from the court to secure
elections; neither, as I remember, were any of the
lieutenancies changed throughout the kingdom, for
the trial of Dr. Sacheverel had raised or discovered
such a spirit in all parts, that the ministers could very
safely leave the clectors to themselves, and thereby
gain a reputation of acting by a free parliament.
Yet this procecding was, by some refiners of both
parties, numbered among the strains of Mr. Harley's
politics, who was said to avoid au over-great ma-
jority, which is apt to be unruly, and not enough
under the management of a ministry. But, from
the small experience I have of courts, I have ever
found refinements to be the worst sort of all con-
jectures; and, from this one occasion, I take leave to
observe, that of some hundreds of facts, for the real
truth of which I can account, I never yet knew any
refiner to be once in the right. I have already told
that the true reason why the court did not interpose
in the matter of election was, because they thought
themselves sure of a majority, and therefore could
acquire reputation at a cheap rate. Besides, it af-
terwards appeared, upon some exigencies which the
court had much at heart, that they were more than
once likely to fail for want of numbers. Mr. Ilar-
ley, in order to give credit to his administration,
resolved upon two very important points: first, to
IN QUEEN ANNE'S MINISTRY.
283
secure the unprovided debts of the nation; and
secondly, to put an end to the war.
Of the methods
he took to compass both those ends I have treated
at large in another work. I shall only observe that,
while he was preparing to open to the house of
commons his scheme for securing the public debts,
he was stabbed by the marquis de Guiscard, while
he was sitting in the council-chamber at the Cock-
pit, with a committee of nine or ten lords of the
cabinet, met on purpose to examine the marquis,
upon a discovery of a treasonable correspondence he
held with France.
This fact was so uncommon in the manner and
circumstances of it, that, although it be pretty well
known at the time I am now writing, by a printed
account, toward which I furnished the author with
some materials, yet I thought it would not be
proper
wholly to omit it here. The assassin was seized, by
Mr. Harley's order, upon the 8th of March, 1710-11;
and, brought before the committee of lords, was ex-
amined about his corresponding with France Upon
his denial, Mr Harley produced a letter, which he
could not deny to be his own hand. The marquis,
prepared for mischief, had conveyed a penknife into
his pocket while the messenger kept him attending
in one of the offices below. Upon the surprise of
his letter appearing against him, he came suddenly
behind Mr. Harley, and, reaching his arm round,
stabbed that minister into the middle of the breast,
about a quarter of an inch above the cartilago ensi-
formis; the penknife, striking upon the bone, and
otherwise obstructed by a thick embroidered waist-
coat, broke short at the handle, which Guiscard
still grasped, and redoubled his blow.
fusion upon this accident is easier conceived than
described. The result was, that the marquis, whe-
ther by the wounds given him by some of the lords,
or the bruises he received from the messengers while
they were seizing him, or the neglect of his surgeon,
or that, being unwilling to live, he industriously
concealed one of his wounds, died in a few days
after. But Mr. Harley, after a long illness and
frequent ill symptoms, had the good fortune to
recover.
The con-
Guiscard was the younger brother of the count of
that name, a very honourable and worthy person,
formerly governor of Namur. But this marquis
was a reproach to his family, prostitute in his morals,
a History of the Four Last Years, &c.
impious in religion, and a traitor to his prince; as
to the rest, of a very poor understanding, and the
most tedious trifling talker I ever conversed with.
He was grown needy by squandering upon his vices.
was become contemptible both here and in Holland,
his regiment taken from him, and his pension re-
trenched; the despair of which first put him upon
his French correspondence; and the discovery of
that drove him into madness. I had known him
some years; and, meeting him upon the Mall a few
hours before his examination, I observed to a friend
then with me,
"That I wondered to see Guiscard
But
pass so often by without taking notice of me."
although, in the latter part of his life, his counte-
nance grew cloudy enough, yet I confess I never
suspected him to be a man of resolution or courage
sufficient to bear him out in so desperate an attempt.
I have some very good reasons to know that the
first misunderstanding between Mr. Harley and Mr
St. John, which afterward had such unhappy con-
sequences upon the public affairs, took its rise during
the time that the former lay ill of his wounds, and
his recovery doubtful. Mr. St. John affected to say
in several companies, "That Guiscard intended th
blow against him;" which, if it were true, the con
sequence must be, that Mr. St. John had all the
merit, while Mr. Harley remained with nothing but
the danger and the pain. But I am apt to think
Mr. St. John was either mistaken or misinformed.
However, the matter was thus represented in the
which Mr. St.
weekly paper called The Examiner;
John perused before it was printed, but made no
alteration in that passage.
This management was looked upon, at least, as a
piece of youthful indiscretion in Mr. St. John; and,
perhaps, was represented in a worse view to Mr.
Harley. Neither am I altogether sure that Mr. St
John did not entertain some prospect of succeeding
as first minister, in case of Mr. Harley's death;
which, during his illness, was frequently appre-
And I remember very well, that, upon
bended.
visiting Mr. Harley as soon as he was in a condition
to be seen, I found several of his nearest relations
talk very freely of some proceedings of Mr. St. John;
enough to make me apprehend that their friendship
would not be of any long continuance.
Mr. Harley, soon after his recovery, was made
an earl, and lord-treasurer; and the lord-keeper a
baron.
A DISCOURSE OF THE CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
BFTWEEN THE
NOBLES AND THE COMMONS IN ATHENS AND ROM E.
WITH THE CONSEQUENCES THEY HAD UPON BOTH THOSE STATES.
Si tibi vera videtur,
Dede manus. et si falsa est, accingere contra.-Luca
Turs whole treatise is full of historical knowledge and ex-
gellent reflections. It is not mixed with any improper salies
of wit, or any light aim at humour and in point of style
and learning is equal, if not superior, to any of Swift's poli-
tical works.—ORRERY.
The following discourse is a kind of remonstrance in behalf
of king William and his friends, against the proceedings of
the house of commons; and was published during the recess off
parliament in the summer of 1701, with a view to engage them
in milder measures, when they should meet again.
At this time Lewis XIV. was making large strides toward
universal monarchy; plots were carrying on at St. Germains;
the Dutch had acknowledged the duke of Anjou as king of Spain;
and king William was made extremely uneasy by the violence
with which many of his ministers and chief favourites were
pursued by the commons. The king, to appease their iesent
ment, had made several changes in his ministry, and removed
some of his most faithful servants from places of the highest
trust and dignity; this expedient, however, had proved inef-
fectual, and the commons persisted in their opposition. They
began by impeaching William Bentinck, earl of Portland, groom
of the stole ; and proceeded to the impeachment of John Somers,
baron Somers of Evesham, first loid-keeper, afterwards lord-
chancellor Edward Russell, earl of Orlord lord-treasurer of
the navy, and one of the lords commissioners of the Admiralty ;
and Charles Montague, earl of Halifax, one of the commis-
sioners of the treasury aud afterward chancellor of the ex-
chequer. Its general purport is to damp the warmth of the
commons, by showing that the measures they pursued had a
direct tendency to bring on the tyranny which they professed
to oppose; and the particular cases of the impeached ords are
paralleled in Athenian characters.
284
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
}
CHAPTER I.
Ir is agreed that in all government there is an ab-
solute unlimited power which naturally and origin-
ally seems to be placed in the whole body, wherever
the executive part of it lies. This holds in the body
natural; for wherever we place the beginning of
motion, whether from the head, or the heart, or the
animal spirits in general, the body moves and acts
by a consent of all its parts. This unlimited power,
placed fundamentally in the body of a people, is
what the best legislators of all ages have endea-
voured, in their several schemes or institutions of
government, to deposit m such hands as would pre-
serve the people from rapine and oppression within,
as well as violence from without. Most of them
seem to agree in this, that it was a trust too great to
be committed to any one man or assembly, and,
therefore, they left the right still in the whole body;
but the administration or executive part, in the
hands of the one, the few, or the many; into which
three powers all independent bodies of men seem
naturally to divide; for, by all I have read of those
innumerable and petty commonwealths in Italy,
Greece, and Sicily, as well as the great ones of
Carthage and Rome, it seems to me that a free
people met together, whether by compact or family
government, as soon as they fall into any acts of
civil society, do of themselves divide into three
powers. The first is that of some one eminent
spirit, who, having signalised his valour and fortune
in defence of his country, or by the practice of po-
pular arts at home, comes to have great influence.
on the people, to grow their leader in warlike ex-
peditions, and to preside, after a sort, in their civil
assemblies; and this is grounded upon the principles
of nature and common reason, which, in all difficul-
ties or dangers, where prudence or courage is re-
quired, rather incite us to fly for counsel or assist-
ance to a single person than a multitude. The
second natural division of power is, of such men
who have acquired large possessions, and couse-
quently dependencies, or descend from ancestors
who have left them great inheritances, together with
an hereditary authority. These, easily uniting in
thoughts and opinions, and acting in concert, begin
to enter upon measures for securing their properties,
which are best upheld by preparing against invasions
from abroad, and maintaining peace at home; this
commences a great council, or senate of nobles, for
the weighty affairs of the nation. The last division
is, of the mass or body of the people, whose part of
power is great and indisputable, whenever they can
unite, either collectively or by deputation, to exert
it.
Now the three forms of government, so gene-
rally known in the schools, differ only by the civil
administration being placed in the hands of one,
or sometimes two (as in Sparta), who were called
kings; or in a scuate, who were called the nobles;
or in the people collective or representative, who
may be called the commons. Each of these had
frequently the executive power in Greece, and some-
times in Rome; but the power in the last resort was
always meant by legislators to be held in balance
among all three.
all three. And it will be an eternal rule in
politics among every free people, that there is a
balance of power to be carefully held by every state
within itself, as well as among several states with
each other.
The true meaning of a balance of power, either
without or within a state, is best conceived by con-
sidering what the nature of a balance is. It sup-
poses three things: first, the part which is held, to-
gether with the hand that holds it; and then the
two scales with whatever is weighed therein. Now,
|
consider several states in a neighbourhood; in order
to preserve peace between these states, it is neces-
sary they should be formed into a balance, whereof
one or more are to be directors, who are to divide
the rest into equal scales, and, upon occasion, remove
| from one into the other, or else fail with their own
weight into the lightest; so in a state within
itself, the balance must be held by a third hand,
who is to deal the remaining power with the utmost
exactness into the several scales. Now, it is not
necessary that the power should be equally divided
between these three; for the balance may be held
by the weakest, who, by his address and conduct,
removing from either scale, and adding of his own,
may keep the scales duly poised. Such was that of
the two kings of Sparta, the consular power in
Rome, that of the kings of Media before the reign
of Cyrus, as represented by Xenophon; and that of
the several limited states in the Gothic institution.
When the balance is broken, whether by the neg-
ligence, folly, or weakness of the hand that held it,
or by mighty weights fallen into either scale, the
power will never continue long in equal division.
between the two remaining parties, but, till the
balance is fixed anew, will run entirely into one.
This gives the truest account of what is understood
in the most ancient and approved Greek authors by
the word Tyranny; which is not meant for the
seizing of the uncontrolled or absolute power into
the hands of a single person (as many superficial
men have grossly mistaken), but for the breaking of
the balance by whatever hand, and leaving the
power wholly in one scale: for, tyranny and usurpa-
tion in a state are by no means coutined to any
number, as might easily appear from examples
enough; and, because the point is material, I shall
cite a few to prove it.
The Romans (Dionys. Hal. lib. 10], having sent
to Athens and the Greek citics of Italy for the
copies of the best laws, chose ten legislators to put
them into form, and during the exercise of their
office suspended the consular power, leaving the
administration of affairs in their hands. These
very men, though chosen for such a work as the
digesting a body of laws for the government of a free
state, did immediately usurp arbitrary power, ran
into all the forms of it, had their guards and spies
after the practice of the tyrants of those ages, af-
fected kingly state, destroyed the nobles, and op-
pressed the people; one of them proceeding so far
as to endeavour to force a lady of great virtue: the
very crime which gave occasion to the expulsion of
the regal power but sixty years before, as this at-
tmpt did to that of the Decemviri.
The Ephori in Sparta were at first only certain
persons deputed by the kings to judge in civil mat-
ters, while they were employed in the wars. These
men, at several times, usurped the absolute autho-
rity, and were as cruel tyrants as any in their age.
Soon after the unfortunate expedition into Sicily
[Thucyd. lib. 8] the Athenians chose four hundred
men for administration of affairs, who became a body
of tyrants, and were called, in the language of those
ages, an oligarchy, or tyranny of the few; under
which hateful denomination they were soon after
deposed in great rage by the people
When Athens was subdued by Lysander [Xenoph.
de Rebus Græc. 1. 2] he appointed thirty men for
the administration of that city, who immediately tell
into the rankest tyranny; but this was not all; for,
conceiving their power not founded on a basis
large enough, they admitted three thousand into
a share of the government; and, thus fortified, be-
came the cruellest tyranny upon recort. They mur-
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
280
7
dered in cold blood great numbers of the best men,
without any provocation. from the mere lust of
cruelty, like Nero or Caligula. This was such a
number of tyrants together as amounted to near a
third part of the whole city; for Xenophon tells us
[Memorab. lib. 3] that the city contained about
ten thousand houses; and allowing one min to
every house who could have any share in the govern-
ment (the rest consisting of women, children, and
servants), and making other obvious abatements,
these tyrants, if they had been careful to adhere to-
gether, might have been a majority even of the peo-
ple collective.
In the time of the second Punic war [Polyb. Frag.
lib 6] the balance of power in Carthage was got
on the side of the people; and this to a degree, that
some authors reckon the government to have been
then among them a dominatio plebis, or tyranny of
the commons; which it seems they were at all times
apt to fall into, and was at last among the causes
that ruined their state and the frequent murders of
their generals, which Diodorus [lib. 20] tells us
was grown to an established custom among them,
may be another instance that tyranny is not confined
to numbers.
I shall mention but one example more among a
great number that might be produced; it is related
by the author last cited [Polyb. Frag. lib. 15]. The
orators of the people at Argos (whether you will
style them, in modern phrase, great speakers of the
house, or only, in general, representatives of the
people collective) stirred up the commons against
the nobles, of whom 1600 were murdered at once;
and at last, the orators themselves, because they left
off their accusations, or, to speak intelligibly, be-
cause they withdrew their impeachments, having, it
seems, raised a spirit they were not able to lay.
And this last circumstance, as cases have lately stood,
may perhaps be worth nothing.
From what has been already advanced several con-
clusions may be drawn :-
First, that a mixed government, partaking of the
known forms received in the schools, is by no means
of Gothic invention, but has place in nature and
reason, seems very well to agree with the senti-
ments of most legislators, and to have been followed
in most states, whether they have appeared under
the name of monarchies, aristokracies, or democra-
cies; for, not to mention the several republics of this
composition in Gaul and Germany, described by
Cæsar and Tacitus, Polybius tells us the best go-
vernment is that which consists of three forms, regi,
optimatum, et populi imperio [Frag. lib. 6), which
may be fairly translated, the king, lords, and com-
mons.
Such was that of Sparta, in its primitive in-
stitution by Lycurgus, who, observing the corruptions
and depravations to which every of these was sub-
ject, compounded his scheme out of all, so that it
was made up of reges, seniores, et populus. Such
also was the state of Rome under its consuls; and
the author tells us that the Romans fell upon this
model purely by chance (which I take to have been
nature and common reason), but the Spartans by
thought and design. And such at Carthage was the
summa reipublicæ [ibid.], or power in the last resort ;
for they had their kings, called suffetes, and a senate,
which had the power of nobles, and the people had
a share established too.
Secondly, it will follow that those reasoners who
employ so much of their zeal, their wit, and their
leisure, for the upholding the balance of power in
Christendom, at the same time that by their prac-
tices they are endeavouring to destroy it at home.
are not such mighty patriots, or so much in the true
Į
interest of their country, as they would affect to be
thought; but seem to be employed like a man who
pulls down with his right hand what he has been
building with his left.
Thirdly, this makes appear the error of those who
think it an uncontrollable maxim that power is
always safer lodged in many hands than a one : for,
if these many hands be made up only from one of
the three divisions before mentioned, it is plain from
those examples already produced, and easy to be
paralleled in other ages and countries, that they are
| capable of enslaving the nation, and of acting all
manner of tyranny and oppression, as it is possible
for a single person to be, though we should suppose
their number not only to be of four or five hundred,
but above three thousand.
The
Again, it is manifest, from what has been said,
that, in order to preserve the balance in a mixed
state, the limits of power deposited with each party
ought to be ascertained and generally known.
defect of this is the cause that introduces those strug-
glings in a state about prerogative and liberty;
about encroachments of the few upon the rights of
the many, and of the many upon the privileges of
the few, which ever did, and ever will, conclude in
a tyranny; first, either of the few or the many; but
at last, infallibly of a single person: for, whichever
of the three divisions in a state is upon the scramble
for more power than its own (as one or other of
them generally is), unless due care be taken by the
other two, upon every new question that arises, they
will be sure to decide in favour of themselves, talk
much of inherent right; they will nourish up a
dormant power, and reserve privileges in pett:, to
exert upon occasions, to serve expedients, and to
urge upon necessities; they will make large de-
mands and scanty concessions, ever coming off con-
siderable gainers: thus at length the balance is
broke and tyranny let in; from which door of the
three it matters not.
To pretend to a declarative right, upon any occa-
sion whatsoever, is little less than to make use of
the whole power: that is, to declare an opinion to
be law which has always been contested, or per-
haps never started at all before such an incident
brought it on the stage. Not to consent to the en-
acting of such a law, which has no view beside the
general good, unless another law shall at the same
time pass with no other view but that of advancing
the power of one party alone; what is this but to
claim a positive voice as well as a negative? To
pretend that great changes and alienations of pro-
perty have created new and great dependencies, and,
consequently, new additions of power, as some rea-
If do-
soners have done, is a most dangerous tenet.
minion must follow property, let it follow in the
same pace; for change in property through the
bulk of a nation makes slow marekes, and its due
power always attends it. To conclude that what-
ever attempt is begun by an assembly ought to be
pursued to the end, without regard to the greatest
incidents that may happen to alter the case; to
count it mean and below the dignity of a house to
quit a prosecution; to resolve upon a conclusion
before it is possible to be apprised of the premises;
to act thus, I say, is to affect not only absolute
power, but infallibility too. Yet such unaccount-
able proceedings as these have popular assemblies
engaged in, for want of fixing the due limits of power
and privilege.
Great changes may indeed be made in a govern-
ment, yet the form continue and the balance be held:
but large intervals of time must pass between every
such innovation, enough to melt down and make it
286
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
of a piece with the constitution. Such, we are told, |
were the proceedings of Solon, when he modelled
anew the Athenian commonwealth; and what con-
vulsions in our own, as well as other states, have
been bred by a neglect of this rule, is fresh and no-
torious enough it is too soon, in all conscience, to
repeat this error again.
Having shown that there is a natural balance of
power in all free states, and how it has been divided,
sometimes by the people themselves, as in Rome;
at others by the institutions of the legislators, as in
the several states of Greece and Sicily; the next
thing is, to examine what methods have been taken
to break or overthrow this balance, which every one
of the three parties has continually endeavoured, as
opportunities have served; as might appear from the
stories of most ages and countries: for absolute
power in a particular state is of the same nature
with universal monarchy in several states adjoining
to each other. So endless and exorbitant are the
desires of men, whether considered in their persons
or their states, that they will grasp at all, and can
form no scheme of perfect happiness with less.
Even since men have been united into governments,
the hopes and endeavours after universal monarchy
have been bandied among them, from the reign of
Ninus to this of the Most Christian King; in which
pursuits, commonwealths have had their share as
well as monarchs: so the Athenians, the Spartans,
the Thebans, and the Achaians, did several times
aim at the universal monarchy of Greece; so the
commonwealths of Carthage and Rome affected the
universal monarchy of the then known world. In
like manner has absolute power been pursued by
the several partics of each particular state; wherein
single persons have met with most success, though
the endeavours of the few and the many have been
frequent enough: yet, being neither so uniform in
their designs nor so direct in their views, they nei-
ther could manage nor maintain the power they had
got, but were ever deceived by the popularity and
ambition of some single person. So that it will
be always a wrong step in policy for the nobles and
commons to carry their endeavours after power so
far as to overthrow the balance: and it would be
enough to damp their warmth in such pursuits, if
they could once reflect that in such a course they
will be sure to run upon the very rock that they
meant to avoid; which, I suppose, they would have
us think is the tyranny of a single person.
have been
Many examples might be produced of the endea-
vours of each of these three rivals after absolute
power; but I shall suit my discourse to the time I
am writing in, and relate only such dissensions in
Greece and Rome, between the nobles and com-
mons, with the consequences of them, wherein the
latter were the aggressors.
I shall begin with Greece, where my observation.
shall be confined to Athens, though several instances
might be brought from other states thereof.
CHAPTER II.
Of the dissensions in Athens between the few and the many.
THESEUS is the first who is recorded, with any ap-
pearance of truth, to have brought the Grecians
from a barbarous manner of life, among scattered
villages, into cities; and to have established the po-
pular state in Athens, assigning to himself the
guardianship of the laws and chief command in war.
He was forced, after some time, to leave the Athe-
nians to their own measures, upon account of their
seditious temper, which ever continued with them
|
till the final dissolution of their government by the
Romaus. It seems the country about Attica was
the most barren of any in Greece, through which
means it happened that the natives were never ex-
pelled by the fury of invaders (who thought it not
worth a conquest), but continued always aborigines;
and therefore retained, through all revolutious, a
tincture of that turbulent spirit wherewith their
government began. This institution of Theseus ap-
pears to have been rather a sort of mixed monarchy
than a popular state; and, for aught we know,
might continue so during the series of kings till the
death of Codrus. From this last prince Solou was
said to be descended; who, finding the people en-
gaged in two violent factions of the poor and the
rich, and in great confusion thereupon, refusing the
monarchy which was offered him, chose rather to
cast the government after another model, wherein
he made provisions for settling the balance of power,
choosing a senate of four hundred, and disposing the
magistracies and offices according to men's estates ;
leaving to the multitude their votes in electing, and
the power of judging certain processes by appeal.
This council of four hundred was chosen, one hun-
dred out of each tribe, and seems to have been a
body representative of the people; though the people
collective reserved a share of power to themselves.
It is a point of history perplexed enough; but this
much is certain, that the balance of power was pro-
vided for; else Pisistratus, called by authors the
tyrant of Athens, could never have governed so
peaceably as he did without changing any of Solon's
laws [Herodot. lib. i.]. These several powers, to-
gether with that of the archou or "hief magistrate,
made up the form of government in Athens, at what
time it began to appear upon the scene of action and
story.
The first great man bred up under this institution
was Miltiades, who lived about ninety years after
Solon, anl is reckoned to have been the first great
captain, not only of Athens, but of all Greece. From
the time of Miltiades to that of Phocion, who is
looked upon as the last famous general of Athens,
are about 130 years: after which, they were subdued
and insulted by Alexander's captains, and continued
under several revolutions a small truckling state, of
no name or reputation, till they fell with the rest
of Greece under the power of the Romans.
During this period from Miltiades to Phocion, I
shall trace the conduct of the Athenians with relation
to their dissensions between the people and some of
their generals; who, at that time, by their power
and credit in the army, in a warlike commonwealth,
and often supported by each other, were, with the
magistrates and other civil officers, a sort of counter-
poise to the power of the people; who, since the
death of Solon, had already made great encroach-
ments What these dissensions were, how founded,
and what the consequences of them, I shall briefly
and impartially relate.
I must here premise that the nobles in Athens
were not at this time a corporate assembly, that I
can gather; therefore the resentments of the com-
mons were usually turned against particular persons,
and by way of articles of impeachment. Whereas
the commous in Rome and some other states, as will
appear in a proper place, though they followed this
method upon occasion, yet generally pursued the en-
largement of their power by more set quarrels of one
entire assembly against another. However, the
custom of particular impeachments being not limited
to former ages, any more than that of general strug-
gles and dissensions between fixed assemblies of
nobles and commons, and the ruin of Greece having
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
287
been owing to the former, as that of Rome was to
the latter, I shall treat on both expressly; that
those states who are concernel in either (if, at least,
there be any such now in the world) may, by observ-
ing the means and issues of former dissensions,
learn whether the causes are alike in theirs; and if
they find them to be so, may consider whether they
ought not justly to apprehend the same effects.
To speak of every particular person impeached by
the commons of Athens, within the compass de-
signed, would introduce the history of almost every
great man they had among them. I shall therefore
take notice only of six, who, living at that period of
time when Athens was at the height of its glory, as
indeed it could not be otherwise while such hands
were at the helm, though impeached for high crimes
and misdemeanors, such as bribery, arbitrary pro-
ceedings, misapplying or embezzling public funds,
ill conduct at sea, and the like, were honoured a
lamented by their country as the preservers of it, and
have had the veneration of all ages since paid justly
to their memories.
Miltiades [lord Orford] was one of the Athenian
generals against the Persian power, and the famous
victory at Marathon was chiefly owing to his valour
and conduct. Being sent some time after to reduce
the island of Paros, he mistook a great fire at a dis-
tance for the fleet, and, being no ways a match for
them, set sail for Athens; at his arrival he was im-
peached by the commons for treachery, though not
able to appear by reason of his wounds, fined 30,000
crowns, and died in prison. Though the conse-
quences of this proceeding upon the affairs of Athens
were no other than the untimely loss of so great and
good a man, yet I could not forbear relating it.
for ever.
|
|
misapplying the public revenues to his own private
use. He had been a person of great deservings
from the republic, was an admirable speaker, aud
very popular. His accounts were confused, and he -
could not then give them up; therefore, merely to
divert that difficulty, and the consequences of it, he
was forced to engage as country in the Peloponne-
sian war, the longest that ever was known in Greece,
aud which ended in the utter ruin of Athens.
The same people, having resolved to subdue Sicily,
sent a mighty fleet under the command of Nicias,
Lamachus, and Alcibiades: the two former, persous
of age and experience; the last, a young man of
noble birth, excellent education, and plentiful for-
tune. A little before the fleet set sail, it seems, one
night, the stone images of Mercury, placed in several
parts of the city, were all pared in the face: this
action the Athenians interpreted for a design of de-
stroying the popular state; and Alcibiades, having
been formerly noted for the like frolics and excur-
sions, was immediately accused of this. He, whe-
ther conscious of his innocence, or assured of the
secrecy, offered to come to his trial before he went
to his command: this the Athenians refused; but
as soon as he was got to Sicily they sent for him
back, designing to take the advantage and prosecute
him in the absence of his friends, and of the army,
where he was very powerful. It seems he under-
stood the resentment of a popular assembly too well
to trust them; and therefore, instead of returning,
escaped to Sparta; where, his desires of revenge pre-
vailing over his love for his country, he became its
greatest enemy. Meanwhile the Athenians before
Sicily, by the death of one commander, and the su-
perstition, weakness, and perfect ill-conduct of the
other, were utterly destroyed, the whole fleet taken,
and a miserable slaughter made of the army, whereof
hardly one ever returned. Some time after this,
Alcibiades was recalled upon his own conditions by
the necessities of the people, and made chief com-
mander at sea and land; but his lieutenant engaging
against his positive orders, and being beaten by Ly-
sander, Alcibiades was again disgraced and banished.
However, the Athenians having lost all strength and
heart since their misfortune at Sicily, and now de-
prived of the only person that was able to recover
their losses, repent of their rashness, and endea-
your in vain for his restoration; the Persian lieute-
nant, to whose protection he fled, making him a
sacrifice to the resentments of Lysander, the general
of the Lacedemonians, who now reduces all the do-
Their next great man was Aristides [lord Somers].
Beside the mighty service he had done his country
in the wars, he was a person of the strictest justice,
aud best acquainted with the laws as well as forms
of their government, so that he was in a manner
chancellor of Athens. This man, upon a slight and
false accusation of favouring arbitrary power, was
banished by ostracism; which, rendered into mo- |
dern English, would signify that they voted he
should be removed from their presence and council
But, however, they had the wit to recul
him, and to that action owed the preservation of
their state by his future services. For it must be
still confessed in behalf of the Athenian people that
they never conceived themselves perfectly infallible,
nor arrived to the heights of modern assemblies, to
make obstinacy confirm what sudden heat and teme-minions of the Athenians, takes the city, razes their
rity began. They thought it not below the dignity
of an assembly to endeavour at correcting an ill step;
at least to repent, though it often fell out too late.
Themistocles was at first a commoner himself: it
was he that raised the Athenians to their greatness
at sea, which he thought to be the true and constant
interest of that commonwealth; and the famous
naval victory over the Persians at Salamis was owing
to his conduct. It seems the people observed some-
what of haughtiness in his temper and behaviour,`,
and therefore banished him for five years; but find-
ing some slight matter of accusation against him,
they sent to seize his person, and he hardly escaped
to the Persian court; from whence, if the love of
his country had not surmounted its base ingratitude
to him, he had many invitations to return at the
head of the Persian fleet, and take a terrible revenge:
but he rather chose a voluntary death.
The people of Athens impeached Pericles for
Admiral Russell, created earl of Orford
Under Peicles and Alcibiades, Swift pomts out circum-
stances parallel to the case of Halifax
|
}
!
walls, ruins their works, and changes the form of their
government, which, though again restored for some
time by Thrasybulus (as their walls were rebuilt by
Conon), yet here we must date the fall of the Athenian
greatness; the dominion and chief power in Greece
from that period to the time of Alexander the Great,
which was about fifty years, being divided between
the Spartans and Thebans. Though Philip, Alexan-
der's father (the Most Christian King of that age),
had indeed some time before begun to break in
the republic of Greece by conquest or bribery ; par-
ticularly dealing large money among some popular
orators, by which he brought many of them, as the
term of art was then, to Philippize.
upon
In the time of Alexander and his captains, the Athe-
nians were offered an opportunity of recovering their
liberty and being restored to their former state: but
the wise turn they thought to give the matter was
by an impeachment and sacrifice of the author to
hinder the success. For, after the destruction of
Thebes by Alexander, this prince, designing the con-
quest of Athens, was prevented by Phocion [earl of
248
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
Portland], the Athenian general, then ambassador
from that state; who, by his great wisdom and skill
at negotiations, diverted Alexander from his design,
and restored the Athenians to his favour. The very
same success he had with Antipater after Alexander's
death, at which time the government was new regu-
lated by Solon's laws: but Polyperchon, in hatred
to Phocion, having, by order of the young king, whose
governor he was, restored those whom Phocion had
banished, the plot succeeded. Phocion was accused
by popular orators, and put to death.
Thus was the most powerful commonwealth of all
Greece, after great degeneracies from the institution
of Solon, utterly destroyed by that rash, jealous, and
inconstant humour of the people, which was never
satished to see a general either victorious or unfor-
tunate: such ill judges, as well as rewarders, have
popular assemblies been, of those who best deserved
from them.
Now, the circumstance which makes these ex-
amples of more importance is, that this very power:
of the people in Athens, claimed so confidently for
an inherent right, and insisted on as the undoubted
privilege of an Athenian born, was the rankest en-
croachment imaginable, and the grossest degene-
racy from the form that Solon left them. In short,
their government was grown into a dominatio plebis,
or tyranny of the people, who by degrees had broke
and overthrown the balance which that legislator had
very well fixed and provided for.-This appears not
only from what has been already said of that lawgiver,
but more manifestly from a passage in Diodorus
[lib. 18], who tells us that Antipater, one of Alex-
ander's captains, abrogated the popular government
in Athens, and restored the power of suffrages and
magistracy to such only as were worth two thousand
drachmas; by which means, says he, that republic
came to be again administered by the laws of Solon.
By this quotation it is manifest that great author
looked upon Solon's institution and a popular govern-
ment to be two different things. And as for this re-
storation by Antipater, it had neither consequence
nor continuance worth observing.
I might easily produce many more examples, but
these are sufficient: and it may be worth the reader's
time to reflect a little on the merits of the cause, as
well as of the men who had been thus dealt with
by their country. I shall direct him no further than
by repeating that Aristides [Somers] was the most
renowned by the people themselves for his exact jus-
tice and knowledge in the law; that Themistocles
[Orford] was a most fortunate admiral, and had got
a mighty victory over the great king of Persia's fleet;
that Pericles [Halifax] was an able minister of state,
an excellent orator, and a man of letters; and lastly,
that Phocion [Portland], beside the success of his
arms, was also renowned for his negotiations abroad;
having in an embassy brought the greatest monarch
of the world at that time to the terms of an honour-
able peace, by which his country was preserved.
I shall conclude my remarks upon Athens with
the character given us of that people by Polybius.
About this time, says he, the Athenians were governed
by two men, quite sunk in their affairs, had little or
no commerce with the rest of Greece, and were be-
come great reverencers of crowned heads.
For, from the time of Alexander's captains till
Greece was subdued by the Romans, to the latter
part of which this description of Polybius falls in,
Athens never produced one famous man either for
counsels or arms, or hardly for learning. And, in-
jdeed, it was a dark insipid period through all Greece:
for, except the Achaian league under Aratus and
Philopomen, and the endeavours of Agis and Cleo-
|
L
menes to restore the state of Sparta, so frequently
harassed by tyrannies occasioned by the popular
practices of the ephori, there was very little worth
recording, All which consequences may perhaps be
justly imputed to this degeneracy of Athens.
CHAPTER III.
Of the dissensions between the patricians and plebeians in
Rome, with the consequences they had upon that state.
HAVING in the foregoing chapter confined myself
to the proceedings of the commons only, by the
method of impeachments against particular persons,
with the fatal effects they had upon the state of
Athens, I shall now treat of the dissensions at Rome,
between the people and the collective body of the
patricians or nobles. It is a large subject, but I shall
draw it into as narrow a compass as I can.
As Greece, from the most ancient accounts we
have of it, was divided into several kingdoms, so
was most part of Italy [Dionys. Halicar.] into several
petty commonwealths. And as those kiugs in Greece
are said to have been deposed by their people upon
the score of their arbitrary proceedings, so, on the
contrary, the commonwealths of Italy were all swal-
lowed up and concluded in the tyranny of the Ro-
However, the differences between
man emperors.
those Grecian monarchies and Italian republics were
not very great; for, by the account Homer gives us
of those Grecian princes who came to the siege of
Troy, as well as by several passages in the Odyssey,
it is manifest that the power of these princes in their
several states was much of a size with that of the
kings in Sparta, the archon at Athens, the suffetes at
Carthage, and the consuls in Rome : so that a limited
and divided power seems to have been the most an-
cient and inherent principle of both those people in
matters of government. And such did that of Rome
continue from the time of Romulus, though with
some interruptions, to Julius Cæsar, when it ended
in the tyranny of a single person. During which
period (not many years longer than from the Norman
conquest to our age) the commons were growing by
degrees into power and property, gaining ground
upon the patricians, as it were. inch by inch, till at
last they quite overturned the balance, leaving all
doors open to the practices of popular and ambitious.
men, who destroyed the wisest republic, and enslaved
the noblest people that ever entered upon the stage
of the world. By what steps and degrees this was
brought to pass shall be the subject of my present
inquiry.
While Rome was governed by kings, the mo-
narchy was altogether elective. Romulus himself,
when he had built the city, was declared king by the
universal consent of the people, and by acgury,
which was there understood for divine appointment.
Among other divisions he made of the people, one
was into patricians and plebeians: the former were
like the barons of Engiand some time after the con-
quest; and the latter are also described to be almost
For they
exactly what our commons were then.
were dependents upon the patricians, whom they
chose for their patrons and protectors, to answer for
their appearance and defend them in any process:
they also supplied their patrons with money in ex-
change for their protection. This custom of patron-
age, it seems, was very ancient, and long practised
among the Greeks.
Out of these patricians Romulus chose a hundred
to be a senate, or grand council, for advice and as-
sistance to him in the administration. The senate
therefore originally consisted all of nobles, and were
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
229
of themselves a standing council, the people being
only convoked upon such occasions as by this insti-
tution of Romulus fell into their cognizance: those
were, to constitute magistrates, to give their votes
for making laws, and to advise upon entering on a
war.
sure.
But the two former of these popular privileges
were to be confirmed by authority of the senate;
and the last was only permitted at the king's plea-
This was the utmost extent of power pre-
tended to by the commons in the time of Romulus,
all the rest being divided between the king and the
senate;
the whole agreeing very nearly with the
constitution of England for some centuries after the
conquest.
After a year's interregnum from the death of Ro-
mulus, the senate of their own authority chose a
successor, and a stranger, merely upon the fame of
bis virtue, without asking the consent of the com-
mons; which custom they likewise observed in the
two following kings. But in the election of Tar-
quinius Priscus, the fifth king, we first hear men-
tioned that it was done populi impetratâ veniá;
which indeed was but very reasonable for a free
people to expect; though I cannot remember, in my
little reading, by what incidents they were brought
to advance so great a step. However it were, this
prince, in gratitude to the people, by whose consent
he was chosen, elected a hundred senators out of the
commons, whose number, with former additions,
was now amounted to three hundred.
The people, naving once discovered their own
strength, did soon take cccasion to exert it, and that
by very great degrees. For at this king's death,
who was murdered by the sons of a former, being at
a loss for a successor, Servius Tullius, a stranger,
and of mean extraction, was chosen protector of the
kingdom by the people, without the consent of the
senate; at which the nobles being displeased, he
wholly applied himself to gratify the commons, and
was by them declared and confirmed no longer pro-
tector, but king.
This prince first introduced the custom of giving
freedom to servants, so
so as to become citizens of
equal privileges with the rest, which very much con-
tributed to increase the power of the people.
Thus in a very few years the commons proceeded
so far as to wrest even the power of choosing a
king entirely out of the hands of the nobles; which
was so great a leap, and caused such a convulsion
and struggle in the state, that the constitution could
not bear it; but civil dissensions arose, which im-
mediately were followed by the tyranny of a single
person, as this was by the utter subversion of the
regal government, and by a settlement upon a new
foundation. For the nobles, spited at this indignity
done them by the commons, firmly united in a body,
deposed this prince by plain force, and chose Tar-
quin the Proud; who, running into all the forms
and methods of tyranny, after a cruel reign was ex-
pelled by a universal concurrence of nobles and
people, whom the miseries of his reign had recon-
ciled.
When the consular government began, the balance
of power between the nobles and plebeians was fixed
anew; the two first consuls were nominated by the
nobles and confirmed by the commons; and a law
was enacted, That no person should bear any magis-
tracy in Rome, injussu populi, that is, without the
consent of the commons.
In such turbulent times as these, many of the
poorer citizens had contracted
contracted numerous debts,
numerous debts,
either to the richer sort among themselves, or to
senators and other nobles: and the case of debtors
in Rome for the first four centuries was, after the set
VOL. I.
|
•
time for payment, that they had no choice but either
to pay or be the creditor's slave.
In this itecture,
the commons leave the city in mutiny and discon-
tent, and will not return but upon condition to be
acquitted of all their debts; and moreover, that cer-
tain magistrates be chosen yearly, whose business it
shall be to defend the commons from injuries.
These are called tribunes of the people; their persous
are held sacred and inviolable, and the people bind
themselves by oath never to abrogate the office. By
these tribunes, in process of time, the people were
gro-sly imposed on to serve the turns and occasions
revengeful or ambitious men, and to commit such
exorbitancies as could not end but in the dissolu-
tion of the government.
of
These tribunes, a year or two after their institu-
tion, kindled great dissensious between the nobles
and the commons on the account of Coriolanus, a
nobleman whom the latter had impeached, and the
consequences of whose impeachment (if I had not
confined myself to Grecian examples for that part of
my subject) had like to have been so fatal to their
state. And from this time the tribunes began a
custom of accusing to the people whatever nobles
they pleased, several of whom were banished or put
to death in every age.
At this time the Romans were very much engaged
in wars with their neighbouring states; but upon
the least intervals of peace the quarrels between the
nobles and the plebeians would revive; and one of
the most frequent subjects of their differences was
the conquered lands, which the commons would fain
have divided among the public; but the senate
could not be brought to give their consent. For,
several of the wisest among the nobles began to ap-
prehend the growing power of the people; and,
therefore, knowing what an accession thereof would
accrue to them by such an addition of property,
used all means to prevent it: for this the Appian
family was most noted, and thereupon most hated
by the commons. One of them, having made a
speech against this division of lands, was impeached
by the people of high treason, and a day appointed
for his trial; but disdaining to make his defence, he
chose rather the usual Roman remedy of killing
himself: after whose death the commons prevailed,
and the lands were divided among them.
This point was no sooner gained but new dissen-
sions began; for the plebeians would fain have a
law enacted to lay all men's rights and privileges
upon the same level; and to enlarge the power of
every magistrate within his own jurisdiction, as
much as that of the consuls. The tribunes also ob-
tained to have their numbers doubled, which before
was five and the author tells us that their inso-
lence and power creased with their number, and
the seditions were also doubled with it. [Dionys.
Halicar.]
By the beginning of the fourth century from the
building of Rome, the tribunes proceeded so far in
the name of the commons as to accuse and fine the
consuls themselves, who represented the kingly
power. And the senate, observing how in all con-
tentions they were forced to yield to the tribunes
and people, thought it their wisest course to give
way also to time; therefore a decree was made to
send ambassadors to Athens and to the other Grecian
commonwealths planted in that part of Italy called
Græcia Major, to make a collection of the best laws;
out of which, and some of their own, a new complete
body of law was formed, afterward kucwn by the
name of the laws of the twelve tables.
To digest these laws into order, ten men were
chosen, and the administration of all affairs left in
t
290
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
their hands; what use they made of it has been |
already shown. It was certainly a great revolution,
produced entirely by the many unjust encroachments
of the people, and might have wholly changed the
fate of Rome, if the folly and vice of those who were
chiefly concerned could have suffered it to take root.
A few years after, the commons made further ad-
vances on the power of the nobles; demanding,
among the rest, that the consulship, which hitherto
had only been disposed to the former, should now lie
in common to the pretensions of any Roman what-
soever. This, though it failed at present, yet after-
ward obtained, and was a mighty step to the ruin of
the commonwealth.
What I have hitherto said of Rome has been
chiefly collected out of that exact and diligent writer
Dionysius Halicarnasseus, whose history, through
the injury of time, reaches no farther than to the
beginning of the fourth century after the building
of Rome. The rest I shall supply from other authors,
though I do not think it necessary to deduce this
matter any further so very particularly as I have
hitherto done.
He
place, ventures so far as to guess at the particular fate
which would attend the Roman government.
says its ruin would arise from the popular tumults,
which would introduce a dominatio plebis, or tyranny
of the people, wherein it is certain he had reason,
and therefore might have adventured to pursue his
conjectures so far as to the consequences of a popular
tyranny, which, as perpetual experience teaches, ne-
ver fails to be followed by the arbitrary government
of a single person. [Fragm. lib. 6.]
About the middle of the fourth century from the
building of Rome, it was declared lawful for nobles
and plebeians to intermarry, which custom, among
many other states, has proved the most effectual
means to ruin the former, and raise the latter.
And now the greatest employ ments in the state
were, one after another, by laws forcibly enacted by
the commons, made free to the people; the con-
sulship itself, the office of censor, that of the quæstors
or commissioners of the treasury, the office of prætor
or chief-justice, the priesthood, and even that of
dictator; the senate, after long opposition, yielding,
merely for present quiet, to the continual urging
clamours of the commons, and of the tribunes their
advocates. A law was likewise enacted that the
plebiscita, or a vote of the house of commons, should
be of universal obligation; nay, in time the method
of enacting laws was wholly inverted, for, whereas
the senate used of old to confirm the plebiscita, the
people did at last, as they pleased, confirm or disan-
nul the senatus consulta. [Dionys. lib. 2.]
Appius Claudius brought in a custom of admitting
to the senate the sons of freedmen, or of such who
had once been slaves, by which, and succeeding
alterations of the like nature, that great council de-
The century and half following, to the end of the
third Punic war by the destruction of Carthage, was
a very busy period at Rome, the intervals between
every war being so short that the tribunes and people
had hardly leisure or breath to engage in domestic
dissensions; however, the little time they could spare
was generally employed the same way. So, Teren-
tius Leo, a tribune, is recorded to have basely pros-
tituted the privileges of a Roman citizen in perfect
spite to the nobles. So, the great African Scipio
and his brother, after all their mighty services, were
impeached by an ungrateful commons.
To point at what time the balance of power was
most equally held between the lords and commons
in Rome would perhaps admit a controversy. Poly-
Poly-
bius tell us [Fragm. lib. 6] that in the second
Punic war the Carthaginians were declining, because
the balance was got too much on the side of the
people; whereas the Romans were in their greatest
vigour by the power remaining in the senate yet
this was between two and three hundred years after
the period Dionysius ends with, in which time the
commons had made several farther acquisitions.
This however must be granted, that (till about the
middle of the fourth century) when the senate ap-generated into a most corrupt and factious body of
peared resolute at any time upon exerting their au-
men, divided against itself, and its authority became
thority, and adhered closely together, they did often despised.
carry their point. Besides, it is observed by the best
authors [Dionys. Hal., Plutarch, &c.] that in all the
quarrels and tumults at Rome, from the expulsion
of the kings, though the people frequently proceeded
to rude contumelious language, and sometimes so
far as to pull and hale one another about the forum,
yet no blood was ever drawn in any popular com-
motions till the time of the Gracchi: however, I am
of opinion that the balance had begun many years
before to lean to the popular side. But this default
was corrected, partly by the principle just mentioned,
of never drawing blood in a tumuit; partly by the
warlike genius of the people, which, in those ages,
vas almost perpetually employed; and partly by
their great commanders, who, by the credit they had
in their armies, fell into the scales as a further coun-
terpoise to the growing power of the people. Besides,
Polybius, who lived in the time of Scipio Africanus
the younger, had the same apprehensions of the con-
tinual encroachments made by the commons, and
being a person of as great abilities and as much saga-
city as any of his age, from observing the corrup-
tions which, he says, had already entered into the
Roman constitution, did very nearly foretell what
would be the issue of them. His words are very re-
markable, and with little addition may be rendered
to this purpose: "That those abuses and corruptions
which in time destroy a government are sown along
with the very seeds of it, and both grow up together;
aud that, as rust eats away iron, and worms devour
wood, and both are a sort of plagues born and bred
along with the substance they destroy, so, with every
form and scheme of government that man can invent,
some vice or corruption creeps in with the very in-
stitution which grows up along with and at last
destroys it." [Lib. 5.] The same author, in another
However, the warlike genius of the people and
continual employment they had for it served to divert
this humour from running into a head, till the age
of the Gracchi.
These persons, entering the scene in the time of a
full peace, fell violently upon advancing the power
of the people, by reducing into practice all those
encroachments which they had been so many years
gaining. There were at that time certain conquered
lands to be divided, besides a great private estate
left by a king; these the tribunes, by procurement
of the elder Gracchus, declared by their legislative
authority were not to be disposed of by the nobles,
but by the commons only. The younger brother
pursued the same design; and, besides, obtained a
law, that all Italians should vote at elections as well
as the citizens of Rome: in short, the whole endea-
vours of them both perpetually turned upon re-
trenching the nobles' authority in all things, but
especially in the matter of judicature. And though
they both lost their lives in those pursuits, yet they
traced out such ways as were afterward followed by
Marius, Sylla. Pompey, and Cæsar, to the ruin of
the Roman freedom and greatness.
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
291
For in the time of Marius, Saturninus, a tribune,
procured a law, that the senate should be bound by
oath to agree to whatever the people would enact;
and Marius himself, while he was in that office of
tribune, is recorded to have with great industry used
all endeavours for depressing the nobles and raising
the people, particularly for cramping the former in
their power of judicature, which was their most an-
cient inherent right.
Sylla, by the same measure, became absolute tyrant
of Rome; he added three hundred commons to the
senate, which perplexed the power of the whole order,
and rendered it ineffectual; then, flinging off the
mask, he abolished the office of tribune, as being
only a scaffold to tyranny, whereof he had no fur-
ther use.
As to Pompey and Cæsar, Plutarch tells us that
their union for pulling down the nobles (by their
credit with the people) was the cause of the civil
war, which ended in the tyranny of the latter, both
of them in their consulships having used all endea-
vours and occasions for sinking the authority of the
patricians, and giving way to all encroachments of
the people, wherein they expected best to find their
own account.
From this deduction of popular encroachments in
Rome, the reader will easily judge how much the
balance was fallen upon that side. Indeed, by this
time the very foundation was removed, and it was
a moral impossibility that the republic could subsist
any longer, for the commons having usurped the
offices of state, and trampled on the senate, there
was no government left but a dominatio plebis. Let
us therefore examine how they proceeded in this
conjuncture.
I think it is a universal truth, that the people are
much more dexterous at pulling down and setting
up than at preserving what is fixed; and they are
not fonder of seizing more than their own, than they
are of delivering it up again to the worst bidder, with
their own into the bargain. For, although in their
corrupt notions of divine worship they are apt to
multiply their gods, yet their earthly devotion is sel-
dom paid to above one idol at a time of their own
creation, whose oar they pull with less murmuring,
and much more skill, than when they share the
lading, or even hold the helm.
The several provinces of the Roman empire were
now governed by the great men of their state; those
upon the frontiers, with powerful armies, either for
conquest or defence. These governors, upon any
designs of revenge or ambition, were sure to meet
with a divided power at home, and therefore bent
all their thoughts and applications to close in with
the people, who were now by many degrees the
stronger party. Two of the greatest spirits that
Rome ever produced happened to live at the same
time, and to be engaged in the same pursuit, and
this at a conjuncture the most dangerous for such a
contest; these were Pompey and Cæsar, two stars of
such a magnitude that their conjunction was as likely
to be fatal as their opposition.
The tribunes and people, having now subdued all
competitors, began the last game of a prevalent popu-
lace, which is that of choosing themselves a master;
while the nobles foresaw, and used all endeavours
left them to prevent it. The people at first made
Pompey their admiral, with full power over all the
Mediterranean, soon after captain-general of all the
Roman forces, and governor of Asia. Pompey, on
the other side, restored the office of tribune, which
Sylla had put down, and in his consulship procured
a law for examining into the miscarriages of men in
office or command for twenty years past Many
other examples of Pompey's popularity are left us
on record, who was a perfect favourite of the people,
and designed to be more, but his pretensions grew
stale for want of a timely opportunity of introducing
them upon the stage. For Cæsar, with his legions
in Gaul, was a perpetual check upon his designs,
and in the arts of pleasing the people did soon after get
many lengths beyond him. For he tells us himself
that the senate, by a bold effort, having made some
severe decrees against his proceedings, and against
the tribunes, these all left the city and went over to
his party, and consequently along with them the affec-
tions and interests of the people, which is further
manifest from the accounts he gives us of the citizens
in several towns mutinying against their commanders.
and delivering both to his devotion. Besides, Cæsar's
public and avowed pretensions for beginning the civil
war were, to restore the tribunes and the people,
oppressed (as he pretended) by the nobles.
This forced Pompey, against his inclinations, upon
the necessity of changing sides, for fear of being for-
saken by both; and of closing in with the senate
and chief magistrates, by whom he was chosen ge-
neral against Cæsar.
Thus at length the senate (at least the primitive
part of them, the nobles) under Pompey, and the
commons under Cæsar, came to a final decision of
the long quarrels between them. For, I think, the
ambition of private men did by no means begin or
occasion this war; though civil dissensions never
fail of introducing and spiriting the ambition of pri-
vate men; who thus become indeed the great in-
struments for deciding such quarrels, and at last are
sure to seize on the prize. But no man that sees a
flock of vultures hovering over two armies ready to
engage can justly charge the blood drawn in the
battle to them, though the carcases full to their share.
For, while the balance of power is equally held, the
ambition of private men, whether orators or great
commanders, gives neither danger nor fear, nor can
possibly enslave their country; but that once broken,
the divided parties are forced to unite each to its
head, under whose conduct or fortune one side is at
first victorious, and at last both are slaves.
And to
put it past dispute that this entire subversion of the
Roman liberty and constitution was altogether owing
to those measures which had broke the balance be-
tween the patricians and plebeians, whereof the am-
bition of particular men was but an effect and con-
sequence, we need only consider that, when the un-
corrupted part of the senate had, by the death of
Cæsar, made one great effort to restore the former
state and liberty, the success did not answer their
hopes; but that whole assembly was so sunk in its
authority, that those patriots were forced to fly and
give way to the madness of the people, who, by their
own dispositions, stirred up with the harangues of
their orators, were now wholly bent upon single and
despotic slavery. Else, how could such a profligate
as Antony, or a boy of eighteen, like Octavius, ever
dare to dream of giving the law to such an empire and
people? wherein the latter succeeded, and entailed
the vilest tyranny that heaven, in its anger, ever in-
flicted on a corrupt and poisoned people. And this,
with so little appearance at Caesar's death, that when
Cicero wrote to Brutus how he had prevailed by
his credit with Octavius to promise him (Brutus)
pardon and security for his person, that great Roman
received the notice with the utmost indignity, and
returned Cicero an answer, yet upon record, full of
the highest resentment and contempt for such an
offer, and from such a hand.
Here ended all show or shadow of liberty in
Rome. Here was the repository of all the wise
U 2
༠༤༠
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
contentions and struggles for power between the
cbles and commons, lapped up safely in the bosom
of a Nero and a Caligula, a Tiberius and a Domitian.
Let us now see, from this deduction of particular
impeachments and general dissensions in Greece
and Rome, what conclusions may naturally be
formed for instruction of any other state that may
haply upon many points labour under the like cir-
cumstances.
CHAPTER IV,
UPON the subject of impeachments we may observe
that the custom of accusing the nobles to the people,
either by themselves or their orators (now styled an
impeachment in the name of the commons), has been
very ancient both in Greece and Rome, as well as
Carthage, and therefore may seem to be the inhe-
rent right of a free people; nay, perhaps it is really
so; but then it is to be considered, first, that this
custom was peculiar to republics, or such states
where the administration lay principally in the
hands of the commons, and ever raged more or less
according to their encroachments upon absolute
power; having been always looked upon by the
wisest men and best authors of those times as an
effect of licentiousness, and not of liberty; a dis-
tinction which no multitude, either represented or
collective, has been at any time very nice in observ-
ing. However, perhaps this custom in a popular
state, of impeaching particular men, may seem to be
nothing else but the people's choosing upon occasion
to exercise their own jurisdiction in person; as if a
king of England should sit as chief justice in his
court of king's bench; which, they say, in former
times he sometimes did. But in Sparta, which was
called a kingly government, though the people were
perfectly free, yet, because the administration was in
the two kings and the ephori, with the assistance of
the senate, we read of no impeachments by the
people; nor was the process against great men either
upon account of ambition or ill conduct, though it
reached sometimes to kings themselves, ever formed
that way, as I can recollect, but only passed through
those hands where the administration lay. So like-
wise, during the regal government in Rome, though
it was instituted a mixed monarchy, and the people
made great advances in power, yet I do not remem-
ber to have read of one impeachment from the com-
mons against a patrician, until the consular state
began and the people had made great encroach-
ments upon the administration.
Another thing to be considered is, that, allowing
this right of impeachment to be as inherent as they
please, yet, if the commons have been perpetually
mistaken in the merits of the causes and the per-
sons, as well as in the consequences of such im-
peachments upon the peace of the state, we cannot
conclude less than that the commons in Greece and
Rome (whatever they may be in other states) were
by no means qualified, either as prosecutors or
judges in such matters; and, therefore, that it would
have been prudent to have reserved these privileges
dormant, never to be produced but upon very great
and urging occasions, where the state is in apparent
danger, the universal body of the people in clamours
against the administration, and no other remedy in
view. But for a few popular orators or tribunes,
upon the score of personal piques; or to employ
the pride they conceive in seeing themselves at the
head of a party; or as a method for advancement;
or moved by certain powerful arguments that could
make Demosthenes Philippize: for such men, say,
when the state would of itself gladly be quiet, and
has, besides, affairs of the last importance upon the
I
anvil, to impeach Miltiades, after a great naval vic.
tory, for not pursuing the Persian fleet; to impeach
Aristides, the person most versed among them in
the knowledge and practice of their laws, for a blind
suspicion of his acting in an arbitrary way, that is, as
they expound it, not in concert with the people; to
impeach Pericles, after all his services, for a few in-
considerable accounts; or to impeach Phocion, who
had been guilty of no other crime but negotiating a
treaty for the peace and security of his country;
what could the continuance of such proceedings end
in but the utter discouragement of all virtuous ac-
tions and persons, and consequently in the ruin of a
state? Therefore the historians of those ages seldom
fail to set this matter in all its lights, leaving us in
the highest and most honourable ideas of those per
sons who suffered by the persecution of the people,
together with the fatal consequences they had, and
how the persecutors seldom failed to repent when
it was too late.
These impeachments perpetually falling upon
many of the best men both in Greece and Rome
are a cloud of witnesses and examples enough to
discourage men of virtue and abilities from engaging
in the service of the public; and help, on the other
side, to introduce the ambitious, the covetous, the
superficial, and the ill designing; who are as apt to
be bold, and forward, and meddling, as the former
are to be cautious, and modest, and reserved. This
was so well known in Greece, that an eagerness
after employments in the state was looked upon by
wise men as the worst title a man could set up, and
made Plato say,
"That if all men were as good as
they ought to be, the quarrel in a commonwealth
would be, not, as it is now, who should be ministers
Aud Socrates
of state, but who should not be so."
is introduced by Xenophon [Lib. Memorab.] severely
chiding a friend of his for not entering into the
public service when he was every way qualitied for
it: such a backwardness there was at that time
among good men to engage with a usurping people
and a set of pragmatical ambitious orators.
Diodorus tells us, that when the petalism was
erected at Syracuse, in imitation of the ostracism at
Athens, it was so notoriously levelled against all
who had either birth or merit to recommend them,
that whoever possessed either withdrew for feat
and would have no concern in public affairs.
that the people themselves were forced to abrogate
it, for fear of bringing all things into confusion.
(Lib. 2.)
Aud
So
There is one thing more to be observed, wherein
all the popular impeachments in Greece and Rome
seem to have agreed; and that was a notion they
had of being concerned in point of honour to con-
demn whatever person they impeached, however
frivolous the articles were upon which they began,
or however weak the surmises whereon they were to
proceed in their proofs. For, to conceive that the
body of the people could be mistaken was an indig.
nity not to be imagined, till the consequences had
convinced them when it was past remedy. And 1-
look upon this as a fate to which all popular accusa-
tions are subject; though I should think that the
saying, Vox populi vox Dei, ought to be understood
of the universal bent and current of a people, not of
the bare majority of a few representatives, which is
industry and
often procured by little arts and great
application; wherein those who engage in the pur
suits of malice and revenge are much more sedulous
than such as would prevent them.
From what has been deduced of the dissensions in
Rome between the two bodies of patricians and ple
beians several reflections may be made.
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
293
First, That when the balance of power is duly
fixed in a state nothing is more dangerous or unwise
than to give way to the first steps of popular en-
croachments, which is usually done either in hopes
of procuring ease and quiet from some vexatious
clamour, or else made merchandise, and merely
bought and sold. This is breaking into a constitu-
tion to serve a present expedient, or supply a present
exigency: the remedy of an empiric to stifle the pre-
sent pain, but with certain prospect of sudden and
terrible returns. When a child grows easy and con-
tent by being humoured, and when a lover becomes
satisfied by small compliances without further pur-
suits, then expect to find popular assemblies content
with small concessions. If there could one single
example be brought from the whole compass of his-
tory of any one popular assembly, who, after be-
ginning to contend for power, ever sat down quietly
with a certain share; or if one instance could be
produced of a popular assembly that ever knew, or
proposed, or declared what share of power was their
due; then might there be some hopes that it were a
matter to be adjusted by reasonings, by conferences,
or debates: but since all that is manifestly other-
wise, I see no other course to be taken in a settled
state than a steady constant resolution in those to
whom the rest of the balance is intrusted never to
give way so far to popular clamours as to make the
least breach in the constitution, through which a
million of abuses and encroachments will certainly
in time force their way.
Again, from this deduction it will not be difficult
to gather and assign certain marks of popular en-
croachments; by observing which, those who hold
the balance in a state may judge of the degrees, and,
by early remedies and application, put a stop to the
fatal consequences that would otherwise ensue.
What those marks are has been at large deduced,
and need not be here repeated.
Another consequence is this, that (with all respect
for popular assemblies be it spoken) it is hard to
ecollect one folly, infirmity, or vice, to which a
single man is subjected, and from which a body of
commons, either collective or represented, can be
wholly exempt. For, beside that they are composed
of men with all their infirmities about them, they
have also the ill fortune to be generally led and in-
fluenced by the very worst among themselves, I mean
popular orators, tribunes, or, as they are now styled,
great speakers, leading men, and the like. Whence
it comes to pass, that in their results we have some-
times found the same spirit of cruelty and revenge,
of malice and pride, the same blindness and obsti-
macy and unsteadiness, the same ungovernable rage
and anger, the same injustice, sophistry, and fraud,
that ever lodged in the breast of any individual.
Again, in all free states the evil to be avoided is
tyranny, that is to say, the summa imperii, or un-
limited power solely in the hands of the one, the
few, or the many. Now, we have shown that,
although most revolutions of government in Greece
and Rome began with the tyranny of the people,
vet they generally concluded in that of a single per-
son; so that a usurping populace is its own dupe,
mere underworker, and a purchaser in trust for
some single tyrant, whose state and power they ad-
vance to their own ruin with as blind an instinct as
those worms that die with weaving magnificent
habits for beings of a superior nature to their own,
CHAPTER V.
>
SOME reflections upon the late public proceedings
among us, and that variety of factions into which we
are still so intricately engaged, gave occasion to this
discourse. I am not conscious that I have forced
one example, or put it into any other light than it
appeared to me long before I had thought of pro-
ducing it.
I cannot conclude without adding some particular
remarks upon the present posture of affairs and dis
positions in this kingdom.
The fate of empire is grown a commonplace: that
all forms of government, having been instituted by
men, must be mortal like their authors, aud have
their periods of duration limited, as well as those of
private persons. This is a truth of vulgar know-
ledge and observation: but there are few who turn
their thoughts to examine how those diseases in a
state are bred that hasten its end; which would,
however, be a very useful inquiry. For, though we
cannot prolong the period of a commonwealth be-
yond the decree of Heaven, or the date of its nature,
any more than human life beyond the strength of
the seminal virtue, yet we may manage a sickly cou-
stitution, and preserve a strong one; we may watch
and prevent accidents; we may turn off a great
blow from without, and purge away an ill humour
that is lurking within: and by these, and other such
methods, render a state long-lived though not im-
mortal. Yet some physicians have thought that, if
it were practicable to keep the several humours of
the body in an exact equal balance of each with its
opposite, it might be immortal, and so perhaps would
a political body if the balance of power could be
always held exactly even. But, I doubt, this is as
impossible in practice as the other.
It has an appearance of fatality, and that the
period of a state approaches, when a concurrence of
many circumstances, both within and without, unite
toward its ruin; while the whole body of the peopie
are either stupidly negligent, or else giving in with
all their might to those very practices that are work-
ing their destruction. To see whole bodies of men
breaking a constitution by the very same errors that
so many have been broke before; to observe oppo-
site parties, who can agree in nothing else, yet firmly
united in such measures as must certainly ruin their
country; in short, to be encompassed with the great-
est dangers from without, to be torn by many viru-
lent factions within; then to be secure and senseless
under all this, and to make it the very least of our
concern; these, and some others that might be
named, appear to me to be the most likely symptoms
in a state of a sickness unto death.
Quod procul a uobis flectat fortuna gubernans :
Et ratio potius, quam res persuadeat ipsa -LUCRET.
There are some conjunctures wherein the death or
dissolution of government is more lamentable in its
consequences than it would be in others. And, I
think, a state can never arrive to its period in a more
deplorable crisis than at a time when some prince in
the neighbourhood, of vast power and ambition, lies
hovering like a vulture to devour, or at least dis-
member, its dying carcase; by which means it be-
comes only a province or acquisition to some mighty
monarchy, without hopes of a resurrection.
I know very well there is a set of sanguine tem-
pers who deride and ridicule, in the number of top-
peries, all such apprehensions as these. They have
it ready in their mouths that the people of England
are of a genius and temper never to admit slavery.
among them; and they are furnished with a great
many commonplaces upon that subject.
But it.
seems to me that such discoursers do reason upon
short views and a very moderate compass of thought.
For I think it a great error to count upon the
genius of a nation as a standing argument in all
ages, since there is hardly a spot of ground in Eŭ
-
12
294
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS
rope where the inhabitants have not frequently and
entirely changed their temper and genius. Neither
can I see any reason why the genius of a nation
should be more fixed in the point of government
than in their morals, their learning, their religion,
their common humour and conversation, their diet
and their complexion; which do all notoriously vary
almost in every age, and may every one of them
have great effects upon men's notions of government.
Since the Norman conquest the balance of power
in England has often varied, and sometimes been
wholly overturned; the part which the commons
had in it (that most disputed point) in its original
progress and extent was, by their own confessions,
but a very inconsiderable share. Generally speak-
Generally speak-
ing, they have been gaining ever since, though with
frequent interruptions and slow progress. The
abolishing of villanage, together with the custom in-
troduced (or permitted) among the nobles, of selling
their lands, in the reign of Henry the Seventh, was
a mighty addition to the power of the commons:
yet I think a much greater happened in the time of
his successor, at the dissolution of the abbeys; for
this turned the clergy wholly out of the scale, who
had so long filled it; and placed the commons in
their stead, who, in a few years, became possessed
of vast quantities of those and other lands, by grant
or purchase. About the middle of queen Eliza-
beth's reign, I take the power between the nobles
and the commons to have been in more equal
balance than it was ever before or since. But then,
or soon after, arose a faction in England, which,
under the name of Puritan, began to grow popular,
by moulding up their new schemes of religion with
republican principles in government; and gaining
upon the prerogative as well as the nobles, under
several denominations, for the space of about sixty
ars, did at last overthrow the constitution and,
according to the usual course of such revolutions,
did introduce a tyranny, first of the people, and then
of a single person.
In a short time after the old government was re-
vived. But the progress of affairs for almost thirty
years, under the reigns of two weak princes [Charles
II. and James II. ], is a subject of a different nature;
when the balance was in danger to be overturned by
the hands that held it, which was at last very sea-
sonably prevented by the late revolution. However,
as it is the talent of human nature to run from one
extreme to another, so in a very few years we have
made mighty leaps from prerogative heights into the
depth of popularity, and I doubt to the very last de-
gree that our constitution will bear. It were to be
wished that the most august assembly of the com-
mons would please to form a pandect of their own
power and privileges, to be confirmed by the entire
legislative authority, and that in as solemn a manner
(if they please) as the magna charta. But to fix
one foot of their compass wherever they think fit,
and extend the other to such terrible lengths, with-
out describing any circumference at all, is to leave
us and themselves in a very uncertain state, and in a
sort of rotation that the author of the Oceanaª never
dreamed on. I believe the most hardy tribune will
not venture to affirm at present that any just fears
of encroachment are given us from the regal power,
or the few and is it then impossible to err on the
other side? How far must we proceed, or where
shall we stop? The raging of the sea, and the mad-
ness of the people, are put together in holy writ, and
it is God alone who can say to either, "Hitherto
shalt thou pass, and no farther."
A Mr. James Harrington, who published a scheme of govern-
meut entitled "The Commonwealth of Oceana.'
19
The balance of power in a limited state is of such
absolute necessity, that Cromwell himself, before he
had perfectly confirmed his tyranny, having some occa-
sions for the appearance of a parliament, was forced
to create and erect an entire new house of lords
(such as it was) for a counterpoise to the commons.
And, indeed, considering the vileness of the clay, I
have sometimes wondered that no tribune of that
age durst ever venture to ask the potter,
"What
dost thou make?" But it was then about the last
act of a popular usurpation; and fate, or Cromwell,
had already prepared them for that of a single person.
I have been often amazed at the rude, passionate,
and mistaken results which have, at certain times,
fallen from great assemblies, both ancient and mo-
dern, and of other countries as well as our own.-
This gave me the opinion I mentioned a while ago,
that public conventions are liable to all the infirmi-
ties, follies, and vices of private men. To which if
there be any exception, it must be of such assem-
blies who act by universal concert, upon public
principles, and for public ends; such as proceed upon
debates without unbecoming warmths or influence
from particular leaders and inflamers; such, whose
members, instead of canvassing to procure majorities
for their private opinions, are ready to comply with
general sober results, though contrary to their own
sentiments. Whatever assemblies act by these and
other methods of the like nature must be allowed
to be exempt from several imperfections to which
particular men are subjected. But I think the
source of most mistakes and miscarriages in matters
debated by public assemblies arises from the influ-
ence of private persons upon great numbers, styled, in
common phrase, leading men and parties. And, there-
fore, when we sometimes meet a few words put toge
ther, which is called the vote or resolution of an asseni-
bly, and which we cannot possibly reconcile to prudence
or public good, it is most charitable to conjecture.
that such a vote has been conceived, and born, and
bred in a private brain; afterward raised and sup-
ported by an obsequious party; and then with usual
methods confirmed by an artificial majority. For,
let us suppose five hundred men, mixed in point of
sense and honesty, as usually assemblies are; and
let us suppose these men proposing, debating, re-
solving, voting, according to the mere natural motions.
of their own little or much reason and understand-
ing; I do allow that abundance of indigested and
abortive, many pernicious and foolish overtures,
would arise and float a few minutes; but then they
would die and disappear. Because this must be
said in behalf of humankind, that common
and plain reason, while men are disengaged from
acquired opinions, will ever have some general in-
fluence upon their minds; whereas the species of
folly and vice are infinite, and so different in every
individual that they could never procure a majority
if other corruptions did not enter to pervert men's
understandings and misguide their wills.
com
sense
To describe how parties are bred in an assembly
would be a work too difficult at present, and per-
haps not altogether safe. Periculosa plenum opus
aleæ. Whether those who are leaders usually arrive
at that station more by a sort of instinct or secret
mposition of their nature or influence of the stars
than by the possession of any great abilities, may
be a point of much dispute; but when the leader is
once fixed there will never fail to be followers. And
man is so apt to imitate, so much of the nature of
sheep (imitatores, servum pecus), that whoever is so
bold to give the first great leap over the heads
of those about him, though he be the worst of
the flock, shall be quickly followed by the rest.
IN ATHENS AND ROME.
295
:
Besides, when parties are once formed, the stragglers
look so ridiculous, and become so insignificant, that
they have no other way but to run into the herd,
which at least will hide and protect them ; and
where to be much considered, requires only to be
very violent.
But there is one circumstance with relation to
parties which I take to be, of all others, most perni-
cious in a state; and I would be glad any partisan
would help me to a tolerable reason, that, because
Clodius and Curio happen to agree with me in a few
singular notions, I must therefore blindly follow
them in all: or, to state it at best, that, because
Bibulus, the party-man, is persuaded that Clodius
and Curio do really propose the good of their coun-
try as their chief end, therefore Bibulus shall be
wholly guided and governed by them in the means.
and measures toward it. Is it enough for Bibulus
and the rest of the herd to say, without further exa-
mining, I am of the side with Clodius, or I vote with
Curio? Are these proper methods to form and
make up what they think fit to call the united wis-
dom of the nation? Is it not possible that upon
some occasion Clodius may be bold and insolent,
borne away by his passion, malicious and revenge-
ful? That Curic may be corrupt, and expose to
sale his tongue or his pen? I conceive it far below
I conceive it far below
the dignity both of human nature and human reason
to be engaged in any party, the most plausible soever,
upon such servile conditions.
This influence of one upon many, which seems
to be as great in a people represented as it was of,
old in the commons collective, together with the
together with the
consequences it has had upon the legislature, has
given me frequent occasion to reflect upon what
Diodorus tells us of one Charondas, a lawgiver to
the Sybarites, an ancient people of Italy, who was
so averse from all innovation, especially when it was
to proceed from particular persons (and I suppose
that he might put it out of the power of men fond of
their own notions to disturb the constitution at their
pleasures, by advancing private schemes), that he
provided a statute, that whoever proposed any alter-
ation to be made should step out and do it with a
rope about his neck; if the matter proposed were
generally approved, then it should pass into a law
if it went into the negative, the proposer to be im-
mediately hanged. Great ministers may talk of
what projects they please, but I am deceived if a
more effectual one could ever be found for taking off
(as the present phrase is) those hot, unquiet spirits.
unquiet spirits
who disturb assemblies and obstruct public affairs, |
by gratifying their pride, their malice, their ambition,
or their avarice.
;
Those who in a late reign began the distinction
between the personal and politic capacity seem to
Lave had reason, if they judged of princes by them-
selves; for, I think, there is hardly to be found
through all nature a greater difference between two
things than there is between a representing com-
moner in the function of his public calling, and the
same person when he acts in the common offices of
life. Here he allows himself to be upon a level
with the rest of mortals; here he follows his own
reason and his own way; and rather affects a sin-
gularity in his actions and thoughts than servilely
to copy either from the wisest of his neighbours. In
short, here his folly and his wisdom, his reason
and his passions, are all of his own growth, not the
echo or infusion of other men. But when he is got
near the walls of his assembly he assumes and af-
fects an entire set of very different airs; he con-
ceives himself a being of a superior nature to those
without, and acting in a sphere where the vulgar
|
use.
methods for the conduct of human life can be of no
He is listed in a party where he neither knows
the temper, nor designs, nor perhaps the person, of
his leader; but whose opinions he follows and
maintains with a zeal and faith as violent as a young
scholar does those of a philosopher whose sect he is
taught to profess. He has neither opinions, nor
thoughts, nor actions, nor talk, that he can call his
own, but all conveyed to him by his leader, as wind
is through an organ. The nourishment he receives
has been not only chewed but digested before it
comes into his mouth. Thus instructed, he follows
the party, right or wrong, through all his sentiments,
and acquires a courage and stiffness of opinion not
at all congenial with him.
This encourages me to hope that, during the pre-
sent lucid interval, the members retired to their
homes may suspend a while their acquired complex-
ions, and, taught by the calmness of the scene and
the season, reassume the native sedateness of their
temper. If this should be so, it would be wise in
them, as individual and private mortals, to look back
a little upon the storms they have raised, as well as
those they have escaped; to reflect, that they have been
authors of a new and wonderful thing in England,
which is, for a house of commons to lose the uni-
versal favour of the numbers they represent; to ob-
serve how those whom they thought fit to persecute
for righteousness sake have been openly caressed by
the people; and to remember how themselves sate
in fear of their persons from popular rage. Now, if
they would know the secret of all this unprecedented
proceeding in their masters, they must not impute it
to their freedom in debate, or declaring their opi-
nions, but to that unparliamentary abuse of setting
individuals upon their shoulders who were hated by
God and man. For it seems the mass of the people,
in such conjunctures as this, have opened their eyes,
and will not endure to be governed by Clodius and
Curio at the head of their myrmidons, though these
be ever so numerous, and composed of their own
representatives.
This aversion of the people against the late pro-
ceedings of the commons is an accident that, if it
last a while, might be improved to good uses for set-
ting the balance of power a little more upon an
equality than their late measures seem to promise or
admit. This accident may be imputed to two causes:
the first is a universal fear and apprehension of the
greatness and power of France, whereof the people
in general seem to be very much and justly pos-
sessed, and therefore cannot but resent to see it, in
so critical a juncture, wholly laid aside by their mi-
nisters, the commons. The other cause is a great
love and sense of gratitude in the people toward
their present king, grounded upon a long opinion
and experience of his merit, as well as concessions to
all their reasonable desires; so that it is for some
time they have begun to say and to fetch instances
where he has in many things been hardly used.
How long these humours may last (for passions are
momentary, and especially those of a multitude), or
what consequences they may produce, a little time
will discover. But whenever it comes to pass that a
popular assembly, free from such obstructions, and
already possessed of more power than an equal
balance will allow, shall continue to think they have
not enough, but by cramping the hand that holds
the balance, and by impeachments or dissensions
with the nobles, endeavour still for more, I cannot
possibly see, in the common course of things, how
the same causes can produce different effects and
consequences among us from what they did in
| Greece and Rome.
296
CONTESTS AND DISSENSIONS IN ATHENS AND ROME.
There is one thing I must needs add, though I
reckon it will appear to many as a very unreasonable
paradox. When the act passed some years ago
against bribing of elections, I remember to have
said upon occasion, to some persons of both houses,
that we should be very much deceived in the con-
sequences of that act: and upon some discourse of
the conveniences of it, and the contrary (which
will admit reasoning enough), they seemed to be
of the same opinion. It has appeared since that
our conjectures were right: for I think the late
parliament was the first fruits of that act; the pro-
ceedings whereof, as well as of the present, have
been such as to make many persons wish that
things were upon the old foot in that matter.
Whether it be that so great a reformation was too
many degrees beyond so corrupt an age as this, or
that, according to the present turn and disposition
of men in our nation, it were a less abuse to bribe
elections than leave them to the discretion of the
choosers. This at least was Cato's opinion when
things in Rome were at a crisis much resembling
ours; who is recorded to have gone about with
great industry, dealing money among the people to
favour Pompey (as I remember) upon a certain
election in opposition to Cæsar; and he excused
himself in it upon the necessities of the occasion
and the corruptions of the people: an action that
might well have excused Cicero's censure of him,
that he reasoned and acted tanquam in Republicd
Platonis, non in fæce Romuli. However it be, it is
certain that the talents which qualify a man for
the service of his country in parliament are very
different from those which give him a dexterity at
C
PREFACE.
|
•
making his court to the people, and do not often
meet in the same subject. Then for the moral
part, the difference is inconsiderable; and whoever
practises upon the weakness and vanity of the
people is guilty of an immoral action as much as
if he did it upon their avarice. Besides, the two
trees may be judged by their fruits. The former
produces a set of popular men, fond of their own
merits and abilities, their opinions and their elo-
quence, whereas the bribing of elections, though a
great and shameful evil, seems to be at present but
an ill means of keeping things upon the old foot,
by leaving the defence of our properties chiefly in
the hands of those who will be the greatest suffer-
ers whenever they are endangered.
It is easy
to observe in the late and present parliament that
several boroughs and some counties have been re-
presented by persons who little thought to have
ever had such hopes before and how far this may
proceed when such a way is laid open for the exer-
cise and encouragement of popular arts one may
best judge from the consequences that the same
causes produced both in Athens and Rome. For,
let speculative men reason or rather refiue as they
please, it ever will be true among us, that as long
as men engage in the public service upon private
ends, and whilst all pretences to a sincere Roman
love of our country are looked upon as an affec-
tation, a foppery, or a disguise (which has been
a good while our case, and is likely to continue
so), it will be safer to trust our property and con-
stitution in the hands of such who have paid for
their election than of those who have obtained
them by servile flatteries of the people.
THE EXAMINER.
On the 3rd of August, 1710, appeared the first number of
· The Examiner," the ablest vindication of the measures of the
queen and her new ministry. "About a dozen of these papers,'
Dr Swift tells us, "written with much spirit and sharpness,
some by secretary St. John, since lord Bolingbroke; others by
Dr. Atterbury, since bishop of Rochester; and others again by
Mr. Prior, Dr. Freind, &c., were published with great applause,
But these gentlemen being grown weary of the work, or other-
wise employed, the determination was that I should continue it;
which I did accordingly eight months. But, my style being
soon discovered, and having contracted a great number of
enemies, I let it fall into other hands, who heid it up in sʊme
manner until her majesty's death."
The original institutors are supposed to have employed Dr.
King as the publisher, or ostensible author, before they prevailed
on their great champion to undertake that task. Mr. Oldmixon
thought that Mr. Prior had a principal hand in the early num-
bers; and it is well known that he wrote No. 6, professedly
against Dr. Garth. No. 8 and No. 9 were written either by
Dr. Friend or Mr. St. John, or by both in conjunction. Dr.
King was the author of No. 11 and of No. 12. Who was the
author of No. 13 does not appear; but it is remarkable that,
when the Examiners were first collected by Mr. Barber into a
volume, No. 13 was omitted; the original 14 being then marked
13; and so on to 35 inclusive, which is marked 44; and this
misarrangement was of course continued by Dr. Hawkesworth
and Mr Sheridan; a circumstance the more worthy of notice,
as the paper omitted is a curious defence of passive obedience,
not interior perhaps in point of sophistry to any in the whole
collection.
After the 13th number the undertaking was carried on
wholly by Dr. Swift, who commenced a regular series of politics
with No. 14, Nov. 2, 1710. "Get the Examiners," he says to
Mrs Johnson, "aud read them. The last nine or ten are full
of the reasons of the late change and of the abuses of the last
mistry; and the great men assure me they are all true.
They are written by their encouragement and direction.”—It
appears, however, by a subsequent letter, Feb. 9, that Mr.
Prior was like to be insulted in the street for being supposed to
be author of it: but one of the last papers,' Swift adds,
"cleared hum Nobody knows who it is, but those few in the
secret; I suppose the ministry and the printer."
**
A contemporary writer, May 3, 1711, says, ' The Examiner is
a paper which all men who speak without prejudice allow to
be well written. Though his subject will admit of no great
variety, he is continually placing it in so many different lights,
and endeavouring to inculcite the same thing by so many
beautiful changes of expression, that men who are concerned
in no party may read him with pleasure. His way of assuming
the question in debate is extremely artful; and his Letter to
Crassus is, I think, a masterpiece. As these papers are sup-
posed to have been written by several hands, the critics will tell
you that they discover a diference in their styles and beauties;
and pretend to observe that the first Examiners abound chiefly
in wit, the last in humour. Soon after their first appearance,
came out a paper from the other side, called the Whig Ex-
aminer,' written with so much fire, and in so excellent a style,
as put the Tories in no small pain for their favourite hero:
every one cried, Bickerstaff must be the author;' and people
were the more confirmed in this opinion upon its being
so soon laid down, which seemed to show that it was
only written to bind the Examiners to their good behavi-
our, and was never designed to be a weekly paper. The Ex-
aminers therefore have no one to combat with at present but
their friend the Medley; the author of which paper, though he
seems to be a man of good sense, and expresses it luckily
enough now and then, is, I thiuk, for the most part, perfectly a
stranger to fine writing. I presume 1 need not tell you that
the Examiner cairies much the more sail, as it is supposed to
be written by the direction, and under the eye, of some great
persons who sit at the helm of affairs, and is consequently
looked on as a sort of public notice which way they are steering
The reputed author is Dr. Swift, with the assistance some-
times of Dr. Atterbury and Mr. Prior."
us.
Having completed the design which first engaged him in the
undertaking with No. 45, June 7, 1711, Dr. Swit then took his
leave of the town in the last paragraph of that number, and
on the same day wrote thus to Mrs. Johnson: "As for the
Examiner, I have heard a whisper, that after that of this day,
which tells what this parliament have done, you will hardly
find them so good. I prophesy they will be trash for the future.
Methinks, in this day's Examiner the author speaks doubtfully,
as if he would write no more. Observe whether the change
be discovered in Dublin, only for your own curiosity, that's all.'
Fron this time Swift had no further concern with the publi
a "Pic:ent State of Wit," supposed to be written by Mr. Gay.
t
THE EXAMINER.
297
cation, except by assisting in the single number of the succeed
ing week.
The Examiner indeed still continued to be published; but it
sunk immediately into rudeness and ill manners, beiug written
by some under pur-leaths in the city, whose scurrility was
encouraged (as Swift himselt did not scruple to own) by the
ministry themselves, who employed this p per to return the
Grub-street invectives tarowu out by the authors of the Medley,
the Englishman, and some other detracting papers of the same
stamp.
It is now no longer a secret that No 46 was written by Mrs.
Manley, with the assistance of Dr. Swit, and that the next six
numbers were also by the same hand. On the 22nd June (the
day after No. 47 was published Swift says, "Yesterday was
a sad Examiner; and last week's was very indifferent; though
some scraps of the old spirit, as if he had given hints;" aud on
the 15th of July, "I do not like any thing in the Examiner after
the 45th, except the first part of the 46th."-Mrs. Manley's
last paper was No. 52, July 26; and in a letter dated Nov. 3,
1711, Swift says,
The first thirteen Examiners were written
by several hands, some good, some had; the next three-and-
thirty were all by one hand; that makes forty-six: then the
author, whoever he was, laid it down, on purpose to confound
guessers; and the last six were written by a woman. The
printer is going to priut them in a small volume; it seems the
author is too proud to have them priuted subscription, though
his friends offered. they say, to make it worth 500, to him.'
On the 6th of December following the work was resumed by
Oldisworth, who completed four volumes more, and pub-
lished uneteen numbers more of the sath volume, when
the queen's death put an end to the work. During this long
period the only articles that are knowu to be by Dr. Swilt are,
a hint which he gave about the prorogation of the parliament,
and to praise the queen for her tenderness to the Dutch, in giving
them still time to submit. which he notices to Mrs. Johnson,
Jan 15, 1712 13; and says, "It suited the occasions at present,'
The vindication of his friend Mr Lewis in No. 21 of the third
volume, Feb. 2, 1712-13, which is printed at length in the
fourth volume of the present edition, is undoubtedly Swift's;
which he more than once acknowledges in his Journal to Stella,
Jan. 27, Jan. 31, and Feb. 1.
་་
The public at large, however, still considered the paper to be
under the management of Swift, who tells Mrs. Johnson,
March 23, 1712-13, "The Examiner has cleared me to-day of
being author of his paper, and done it with great civilities to
me. I hope it will stop people's mouths; if not, they must go
on and be hanged; I care not."-The letter alluded to has the
following passage in the 35th number of vol ii., in which Mr.
Oldisworth, speaking of some of his opponents, says, "I shall
at once ease them of a great deal of guilt, as well as importance,
by putting a fiual stop to some of their daily elamours, and for
ever shutting up one of their most liberal sluices of scandal.
They have been a long time laying a load upon a gentleman of
the first character for learning, good sense, wit, and more virtues
than even they can set off and illustrate by all the opposition
and extremes of vice which are the compounds of their party.
He is indeed fully accomplished to be mortally hated by them;
and they needed not to charge him with writing the Examiner,
as if that were a sufficicut revenge, in which they show as little
judgment as truth. I here pronounce him clear of that imputa-
tion, and, out of pure regard to justice, strip myself of all the
honour that lucky untruth did this paper; eserving to myself
the entertaining reflection that I was ouce taken for a man who
&
"I have instructed an under spur-leather to write so that it
is taken for mine." Jourual to Stella. Oct. 10, 1711. This was
probably the under-stapper noticed Nov. 26, 1711, whom he
elsewhere calls "a scrub instrument of mischief of mine."
b Of Mr. William Oldisworth little is now remembered but
the titles of some of his literary productions. He was editor of
the Muses' Mercury, 1707; and published, 1 "A Dialogue
between Timothy and Philatheus in which the Principles and
Projects of a late whimsical Book, entitled the Rights of the
Christian Church, &c, are fairly stated, and answered in their
kind, &c. By a Layman, 1709, 1710," 3 vols. 8vo. 2. “A
Vindication of the Bishop of Exeter (Dr. Blachail) against Mr.
Hoadly." 3. A volume called State Tracts " 4. Another
called "State and Miscellany Poems, by the Author of the
Examiner, 1715," 8vo. He
5. Ife translated the "Odes, Epodes,
and Carmen Seculare of Horace." 6. The
6. The Life of Edmund
Smith," prefixed to his works written "with all the partiality
of friendship;" said by Dr. Burton to show what fine things
one man of parts can say of another;" and which Dr. Johnson
has honoured by incorporating it into his biographical pre ace
on Smith. That O.disworth had an attachment to the abdicated
royal family is admitted; which gave occasion to a report in
the Weekly Packet, Jan. 17, 1715-16, that he was killed with
his sword in his hand in the engagement at Preston, in com-
pany with several others who had the same fate; having resolved
not to survive the loss of the battle." But this report was
groundless; as he lived till Sept. 15, 1784.
"
No. 19 was published July 26, 1714; and on the 8th of
October came out the first number of "The Controller, being
The Controller, being
a Sequel to the Examiner;" published also by Morphew.
has a thousand other recommendations, besides the notice of
the worst men, to make him loved and esteemed by the best.
This is the second time I have humoured that party by publiery
declaring who is not the author of the Examiner. I will lend
them no more light, because they do not love it. I could only
wish that their invectives agam t that gentleman Iad been consi-
derable enough to call forth his pubhe resentments; and I stand
amazed at their folly in provoking so much ruin to their party.
Their intellectuals must be as stupid as their consciences, not
to dread the terrors of ins pen, thoug, they met hom with al
that spite to his person when they ever expressed against his
order
May 12, 1713, after several sparrings Letween the Examiner
and the Guardian, Seele thus indirecdy states in the Guardian,
No. 33, that the Examiner was writ ne ther by Dr. Swift or
Mrs. Maniey: "I have been told by familiar friends that
they saw me such a time talking to the Examiner; others, who
have rallied me upon the sins of my youth tell me it is credi
bly reported that I have former y lan with the Examiner. I
nave carried my point, and rescued innocence from calumny
and it is nothing to me whe her the Examiner writes against
me in the character of an estranged friend or an exusperated
mistress."―This paragraph raised the indignation of Swilt;ª
who complained of it to their common friend Mr Audison.
"Is he so ignorant," Swilt says, "of my temper and of my
style? Had he never heard that the author of the Examiner
(to whom I am altogether a stranger did a month or two ago
vindicate me from having any concern with it Should not Mr.
Steele have first expostulated with me as a trieud:"-lu a letter
which this produced from Seele it being still insinuated that
Swift was an accomplice of the Examiner, he thus indignantly
repels the charge: "I appeal to your most paral friends,
whether you might not either have asked or written to me, or
desired to have been informed by a third hand, whether i were
any way concerned in writing the Examiner. And if I had
shuffled, or answered indirectly, or affirmed it, or said I would
not give you satisfaction, you might then have wreaked your
revenge with some colour of justice. I have several times
assured Mr. Addison, and fifty others, that I had not the least
hand in writing any of those papers; and that I had never
exchanged one syllable with the supposed author in my life,
that I can remember, nor even seen him above twice, and that
in mixed company, or in a place where he came to pay his
attendance."
"
Of Swift's Examiners, Dr. Johnson observes that "in argu-
ment he may be allowed to have the advantage; for, where
a wide system of conduct aud the whole of a public character
is laid open to inquiry, the accuser, having the choice of facts,
must be very unskilful if he does not prevail."-Lord Orvery,
who commends the Examiners for the nervous style, clear
diction, and great knowledge of the true lauded interest of
England," observes that their author was elated with the ap-
pearance of enjoying ministerial conndeuce;" that he was
employed, uot trusted.' Remarks, &c., Letter iv. The earl of
Chesterfield also asserts that "the lie of the day was coined
and delivered out to him, to white Examiners and other poli-
nical papers upon. It may be proper, however, to take notice.
that neither of these noble peers appear to have seen Swift's
"Preface" to his "History of the Four last Years of the Queen ;'
aud, with all due deterence to these great authorities, the
present Editor cannot but be of opinion that Swift s manly
fortitude and very accurate discernment of the human heart
would have prevented his being a upe to the intrigues of a
statesman, however dignified. He himself assures us that he
was of a temper to think no man great enough to set him on
work; that he absolutely refused to be chaplain to the lord-
treasurer, because he thought it would ill become him to be in
a state of dependence." Indeed his whole conduct in that busy
period (in which "it was his lot to have been daily conversant
with the persons then in power; never absent in times of busi-
ness or conversation, until a few weeks before her majesty's
death; and a witness of every step they made in the course of
their administration") demonstrates the respectable situation
he then so ably filed. And when at last the time arrived L
which he was to be rewarded for his services, in how different
a light does he appear from that of a hireling writer! He
frankly told the treasurer he could not with any reputation
stay longer here, unless he had something honourable imme-
diately given to him." Whilst his noble patrons were unde-
termined whether he should be promoted to St. Patrick's or to
a stall at Windsor, he openly assured lord Bolingbroke
would not stay for their disputes And we find he exerted hi
Interest so effectually with the dake of Ormond as to overrule
a prejudice that nobleman had conceived against Dr. Sterne,
M
he
"In the latter part of Swift's lie affliction throws a sa
credness around him that sets discernment and discrimination
at defiance. My eye tries in vain to get a glimpse of his fea-
tures; it can see nothing distinctly for tears. But in his best
condition, his virulent treatment of Steele, and his very many
unaccountable instances of insolence and caprice, seem to have
been indications or ebullitious of that insanity which afterwards
overpowered him." Dr. Calder, in the notes on the Tatler, 1766
vol v. p. 311.
298
THE EXAMINER.
whose promotion to the see of Dromore made the vacancy at St.
Patrick's. The duke, with great kindness, said he would
consent; but would do it for no man else but me." Swift ac-
knowledges "this affair was carried with great difficulty;" but
adds, "they say here it is much to my reputation that I have
made a bishop in spite of the world, and to get the best deanery
in Ireland."
No. 14.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1710.
longa est injuria, longæ
Ambages; sed summa sequar fastigia rerum.
The tale is intricate, perplex'd, and long;
Hear then, in short, the story of her wrong.
IT is a practice I have generally followed to converse
in equal freedom with the deserving men of both
parties; and it was never without some contempt that
I have observed persons wholly out of employment
affect to do otherwise. I doubted whether any man
could owe so much to the side he was of, although
he were retained by it; but without some great point
of interest, either in possession or prospect, I thought
it was the mark of a low and narrow spirit.
But
It is hard that for some weeks past I have been
forced, in my own defence, to follow a proceeding
that I have so much condemned in others.
several of my acquaintance among the declining party
are grown so insufferably peevish and splenetic, pro-
fess such violent apprehensions for the public, and
represent the state of things in such formidable
ideas, that I find myself disposed to share in their
afflictions, although I know them to be groundless
and imaginary, or, which is worse, purely affected.
To offer them comfort one by one would be not only
an endless, but a disobliging task. Some of them,
I am convinced, would be less melancholy if there
were more occasion. I shall, therefore, instead of
hearkening to further complaints, employ some part
of this paper for the future in letting such men see
that their natural or acquired fears are ill founde,
and their artificial ones as ill intended; that all our
present inconveniences are the consequence of the
very counsels they so much admire, which would
still have increased if those had continued; and
that neither our constitution in church or state could
probably have been long preserved without such
methods as have been already taken.
The late revolutions at court have given room to
some specious objections, which I have heard re-
peated by well-meaning men, just as they had taken
them up on the credit of others who have worse
designs. They wonder the queen would choose to
change her ministry at this juncture, and thereby
give uneasiness to a general who hath been so long
successful abroad, and might think himself injured,
if the entire ministry were not of his own nomina-
tion; that there were few complaints of any conse-
quence against the late men in power, and none at
all in parliament, which, on the contrary, passed
votes in favour of the chief minister; that if her
majesty had a mind to introduce the other party, it
would have been more seasonable after a peace,
which now we have made desperate, by spiriting the
French, who rejoice in these changes, and by the fall
of our credit, which unqualifies us for carrying on
the war; that the parliament, so untimely dissolved,
had been diligent in their supplies and dutiful
in their behaviour; that one consequence of these
changes appears already in the fall of the stocks;
that we may soon expect more and worse; and
lastly, that all this naturally tends to break the set-
tlement of the crown, and call over the pretender.
These and the like notions are plentifully scattered
abroad by the malice of a ruined party, to render the
queen and her administration odious, and to inflame
the nation. And these are what upon occasion I
shall endeavour to overthrow by discovering the
falsehood and absurdity of them.
It is a great unhappiness when, in a government
constituted like ours, it should be so brought about
that the continuance of a war must be for the interest
of vast numbers (civil as well as military), who
otherwise would have been as unknown as their ori-
ginal. I think our present condition of affairs is
admirably described by two verses in Lucan :
Hinc usura vorax, avidumque in tempore foenus,
Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum:
which, without any great force upon the words, may
be thus translated:
Hence are derived those exorbitant interests and
annuities; hence those large discounts for advance
and prompt payment; hence public credit is shaken;
and hence great numbers find their profit in prolong-
ing the war.
It is odd that among a free trading people, as we
call ourselves, there should so many be found to close
in with those counsels, who have been ever averse
from all overtures towards a peace: but yet there is
no great mystery in the matter. Let any man ob-
serve the equipages in this town, he shall find the
greater number of those who make a figure to be a
species of men quite different from any that were
ever known before the Revolution; consisting either
of generals and colonels, or of those whose whole
fortunes lie in funds and stocks; so that power,
which, according to the old maxim, was used to
follow land, is now gone over to money; and the
country gentleman is in the condition of a young
heir, out of whose estate a scrivener receives half the
rents for interest, and has a mortgage on the whole;
and is therefore always ready to feed his vices and
extravagances while there is anything left. So that,
if the war continues some years longer, a landed
man will be little better than a farmer of a rack-rent
to the army and to the public funds.
It may perhaps be worth inquiring from what
beginnings, and by what steps, we have been brought
into this desperate condition; and in search of this
we must run up as high as the Revolution.
Most of the nobility and gentry, who invited over
the prince of Orange, or attended him in his expe-
dition, were true lovers of their country and its
constitution in church and state; and were brought
to yield to those breaches in the succession of the
crown out of a regard to the necessity of the king-
dom and the safety of the people, which did and
could only make them lawful; but without intention
of drawing such a practice into precedent, or making
it a standing measure by which to proceed in all
times to come: and therefore we find their counsels
ever tended to keep things as much as possible in
the old course. But soon after, an under set of men,
who had nothing to lose, and had neither borne the
burden nor heat of the day, found means to whisper
in the king's ear that the principles of loyalty in
the church of England were wholly inconsistent
with the Revolution. Hence began the early prac
tice of caressing the dissenters, reviling the univer-
sities as maintainers of arbitrary power, and reproach
ing the clergy with the doctrines of divine right, pas-
sive obedience, and non-resistance. At the same
time, in order to fasten wealthy people to the new
government, they proposed those pernicious expe-
dients of borrowing money by vast premiums, and
at extortionate interest: a practice as old as Eumenes,
one of Alexander's captains, who, setting up for
himself after the death of his master, persuaded his
principal officers to lend him great sums, after which
they were forced to follow him for their own security.
*
۱۲
THE EXAMINER.
209
}
This introduced a number of new dexterous men
into business and credit. It was argued that the
war could not last above two or three campaigns,
and that it was easier for the subjects to raise a fund
for paying interest than to tax them annually to the
full expense of the war. Several persons who had
small or encumbered estates soft them, and turned
their money into those funds, to great advantage:
merchants, as well as other moneyed men, finding
trade was dangerous, pursued the same method.
But the war continuing, and growing more expen-
sive, taxes were increased, and funds multiplied
every year, till they have arrived at the monstrous
height we now behold them; and that which was
at first a corruption is at last grown necessary, and
what every good subject must now fall in with,
although he may be allowed to wish it might soon
have an end; because it is with a kingdom as with a
private fortune, where every new incumbrance adds
a double weight. By this means the wealth of a
nation, that used to be reckoned by the value of land,
is now computed by the rise and fall of stocks: and
although the foundation of credit be still the same,
and upon a bottom that can never be shaken, and
although all interest be duly paid by the public,
yet, through the contrivance and cunning of stock-
jobbers, there has been brought in such a complica-
tion of knavery and cozenage, such a mystery of
iniquity, and such an unintelligible jargon of terms
to involve it in, as were never known in any other
age or country in the world. I have heard it affirmned,
by persons skilled in these calculations, that, if the
funds appropriated to the payment of interest and
annuities were added to the yearly taxes, and the
four-shilling aid strictly exacted in all counties of the
kingdom, it would very near, if not fully, supply the
occasions of the war, at least such a part as, in the
opinion of very able persons, had been at that time
prudent not to exceed. For I make it a question
whether any wise prince or state, in the continuance
of a war which was not purely defensive, or imme-
diately at his own door, did ever propose that his
expense should perpetually exceed what he was able
to impose annually upon his subjects. Neither, if
the war last many years longer, do I see how the next
generation will be able to begin another; which, in
the course of human affairs, and according to the
various interests and ambition of princes, may be as
necessary for them as it has been for us. And if
our fathers had 'eft us deeply involved, as we are
likely to leave our children, I appeal to any man
what sort of figure we should have been able to
make these twenty years past. Besides, neither our
enemies nor allies are upon the same foot with us in
this particular. France and Holland, our nearest
neighbours, and the farthest engaged, will much
sooner recover themselves after a war: the first,
by the absolute power of the prince, who, being
master of the lives and fortunes of his subjects, will
quickly find expedients to pay his debts; and so
will the other, by their prudent administration, the
greatness of their trade, their wonderful parsimony,
the willingness of their people to undergo all kind of
taxes, and their justice in applying as well as collect-
ing them. But above all we are to consider that
France and Holland fight on the continent, either
upon or near their own territories, and the greatest
part of the money circulates among themselves,
whereas ours crosses the sea, either to Flanders,
Spain, or Portugal; and every penny of it, whether
in specie or returns, is so much lost to the nation
for ever.
Upon these considerations alone, it was the most
prudent course imaginable in the queen to lay hold
of the disposition of the people for changing the
parliament and ministry at this juncture, and extricat-
ing herself as soon as possible out of the pupilage
of those who found their accounts only in perpetuat-
ing the war. Neither have we the least reason to
doubt but the ensuing parliament will assist her
majesty with the utmost vigour, until her enemies
again be brought to sue for peace, and again offer
such terms as will make it both honourable and last-
ing; only with this difference, that the ministry per-
haps will not again refuse them.
Audiet pugnas, vitio parentum
Rara, Juventus.
No. 15.
HOR. book i. Ode 2.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1710.
E quibus hi vacuas implent sermonibus aures,
Hi narrata ferunt alio: mensuraque ficti
Crescit, et auditis aliquid novus adjicit auctor.
Illic Credulitas, illic temerarius Error,
Vanaque Lætitia est, consternatique Timores,
Seditioque recens, dubioque auctore Susurri.
With idle tales this fills our empty ears;
The next reports what from the first he hears
The rolling fictions grow in strength and size,
Each author adding to the former hes.
Here vain credulity, with new desires,
Leads us astray, and groundless joy inspires ;
The dubious whispers tumults fresh design'd,
And chilling fears astound the anxious mind.
I AM prevailed on, through the importunity of
friends, to interrupt the scheme I had begun in my
last paper, by an essay upon the Art of Political
Lying." We are told the devil is the father of lies,
and was a liar from the beginning; so that, beyond
contradiction, the invention is old: and, which is
more, his first Essay of it was purely political, em-
ployed in undermining the authority of his prince,
and seducing a third part of the subjects from their
obedience: for which he was driven down from
heaven, where (as Milton expresses it) he had been
viceroy of a great western province; and forced to
exercise his talent in inferior regions among other
fallen spirits, poor or deluded men, whom he still
daily tempts to his own sin, and will ever do so, till
he be chained in the bottomless pit.
But although the devil be the father of lies, he
seems, like the great inventors, to have lost much of
his reputation by the continual improvements that
have been made upon him.
Who first reduced lying into an art, and adapted
it to politics, is not so clear from history, although
I have made some diligent inquiries. I shall there-
fore consider it only according to the modern sys-
tem, as it has been cultivated these twenty years
past in the southern part of our own island.
The poets tell us that, after the giants were over-
thrown by the gods, the Earth in revenge produced
her last offspring, which was Fame. And the fable
is thus interpreted: that when tumults and sedi-
tions are quieted, rumours and false reports are
plentifully spread through a nation. So that, by
this account, lying is the last relief of a routed, earth-
born, rebellious party in a state. But here the mo-
derns have made great additions, applying their art
to the gaining of power and preserving it, as well as
revenging themselves after they have lost it; as the
same instruments are made use of by animals to feed
themselves when they are hungry, and to bite those
that tread upon them.
But the same genealogy cannot always be admit-
ted for political lying; I shall therefore desire to
refine upon it, by adding some circumstances of its
birth and parents. A political lie is sometimes born
out of a discarded statesman's head and thence de-
300
THE EXAMINER.
livered to be nursed and dandled by the rabble.
Sometimes it is produced a monster, and licked into
shape at other times it comes into the world com-
pletely formed, and is spoiled in the licking. It is
often oorn an infant in the regular way, and re-
quires time to mature it; and often it sees the light
in its full growth, but dwindles away by degrees.
Sometimes it is of noble birth, and sometimes the
spawn of a stock-jobber. Here it screams aloud
at the opening of the womb, and there it is deli-
vered with a whisper. I know a lie that now dis-
turbs half the kingdom with its noise, which, al-
though too proud and great at present to own its
parents, I can remember its whisperhood. To con-
clude the nativity of this monster; when it comes
into the world without a sting it is still-born; and
whenever it loses its sting it dies.
No wonder if an infant so miraculous in its birth
should be destined for great adventures; and accord-
ingly we see it has been the guardian spirit of a pre-
vailing party for almost twenty years. It can con-
quer kingdoms without fighting, and sometimes with
the loss of a battle. It gives and resumes employ-
ments; can sink a mountain to a mole-hill, and raise
a mole-hill to a mountain has presided for many
years at committees of elections; can wash a black-
moor white; make a saint of an atheist, and a pa-
triot of a profligate; can furnish foreign ministers
with intelligence, and raise or let fall the credit of
the nation. This goddess flies with a huge looking-
glass in her hands, to dazzle the crowd, and make
them see, according as she turns it, their ruin in
their interest, and their interest in their ruin.
this glass you will behold your best friends, clad in
coats powdered with fleurs de lis and triple crowns;
their girdles hung round with chains, and beads, and
wooden shoes; and your worst enemies adorned with
the ensigns of liberty, property, indulgence, mode-
ration, and a cornucopia in their hands. Her large
wings, like those of a flying-fish, are of no use but
while they are moist; she therefore dips them in
mud, and, soaring aloft, scatters it in the eyes of
the multitude, flying with great swiftness; but at
every turn is forced to stoop in dirty ways for new
supplies.
In
I have been sometimes thinking, if a man had the
art of the second sight for seeing lies, as they have
in Scotland for sceing spirits, how admirably he
might entertain himself in this town, by observing
the different shapes, sizes, and colours of those
swarms of lies which buzz about the heads of some
people, like flies about a horse's ears in summer; or
those legions hovering every afternoon in Exchange-
allo
y, enough to darken the air; or over a club of
discontented grandees, and thence sent down in car-
goes to be scattered at elections.
|
|
There is one essential point wherein a political |
liar differs from others of the faculty, that he ought
to have but a short memory, which is necessary,
according to the various occasions he meets with
every hour of differing from himself, and swearing
to both sides of a contradiction, as he finds the per-
sons disposed with whom he has to deal. In de-
scribing the virtues and vices of mankind, it is con-
venient, upon every article, to have some eminent
person in our eye, from whom we copy our descrip-
tion. I have strictly observed this rule, and my
imagination this minute represents before me a cer-
tain great man (earl of Wharton) famous for his
talent, to the constant practice of which he owes his
twenty years' reputation of the most skilful head in
England for the management of nice affairs. The
superiority of his genius consists in nothing else but
an inexhaustible fund of political lies, which he plen-
tifully distributes every minute he speaks, and by
an unparalleled generosity forgets, and consequently
contradicts, the next half-hour. He never yet cou-
sidered whether any proposition were true or false,
but whether it were convenient for the present mi-
nute or company to affirm or deny it; so that, if you
think fit to refine upon him,
think fit to refine upon him, by interpreting every-
thing he says, as we do dreams, by the contrary, you
are still to seek, and will find yourself equally de-
ceived whether you believe or not the only remedy
is to suppose that you have heard some inarticulate
sounds, without any meaning at all; and besides,
that will take off the horror you might be apt to
conceive at the oaths wherewith he perpetually tags
both ends of every proposition; although, at the
same time, I think he cannot with any justice be
taxed with perjury when he invokes God and
Christ, because he has often fairly given public no-
tice to the world that he believes in neither.
Some people may think that such an accomplish-
ment as this can be of no great use to the owner, or
his party, after it has been often practised and is be-
come notorious; but they are widely mistaken. Few
lies carry the inventor's mark, and the most prosti-
tute enemy to truth may spread a thousand without
being known for the author: besides, as the vilest
writer has his readers, so the greatest liar has his be-
lievers and it often happens that, if a lie be be-
lieved only for an hour, it has done its work, and
there is no further occasion for it. Falsehood flies,
and truth comes limping after it, so that when men
come to be undeceived it is too late; the jest is
over, and the tale has had its effect: like a man
who has thought of a good repartee when the dis-
course is changed or the company parted; or like a
physician who has found out an infallible medicine.
after the patient is dead.
Considering that natural disposition in many men
to lie, and in multitudes to believe, I have been per-
plexed what to do with that maxim so frequent in
everybody's mouth, that truth will at last prevail.
Here has this island of ours, for the greatest part of
twenty years, lain under the influence of such coun-
sels and persons, whose principle and interest it was
to corrupt our manners, blind our understanding,
drain our wealth, and in time destroy our constitu-
tion both in church and state, and we at last were
brought to the very brink of ruin; yet, by the means
of perpetual misrepresentations, have never been
able to distinguish between our enemies and friends.
We have seen a great part of the nation's money got
into the hands of those who, by their birth, educa-
tion, and merit, could pretend no higher than to
wear our liveries; while others, who, by their credit,
quality, and fortune, were only able to give reputa-
tion and success to the Revolution, were not only
laid aside as dangerous and useless, but loaded with
the scandal of Jacobites, men of arbitrary principles,
and pensioners to France; while truth, who is said
to lie in a well, seemed now to be buried there under
a heap of stones. But I remember it was a usual
complaint among the Whigs, that the bulk of the
landed men was not in their interests, which some
of the wisest looked on as an ill omen; and we saw
it with the utmost difficulty that they could preserve
a majority, while the court and ministry were on
their side, till they had learned those admirable ex-
pedients for deciding elections and influencing dis-
tant boroughs by powerful motives from the city.
But all this was mere force and constraint, however
upheld by most dexterous artifice and management,
until the people began to apprehend their properties.
their religion, and the monarchy itself in danger;
when we saw them greedily 'aving hold on the first
THE EXAMINER.
301
occasion to interpose. But of this mighty change in
the dispositions of the people I shall discourse more
at large in some following paper: wherein I shall
endeavour to undeceive or discover those deluded or
deluding persons who hope or pretend it is only a
short madness in the vulgar, from which they may
soon recover; whereas, I believe it will appear to
be very different in its causes, its symptoms, and its
consequences; and prove a great example to illus-
trate the maxim I lately mentioned, that truth (how-
ever sometimes late) will at last prevail,
No. 16.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1710.
medioque ut limite curras,
Icare, ait, moneo: ne si demissior ibis,
Unda gravet pennas; si celsior, ignis adurat.
My boy, take care
To wing thy course along the middle air:
If low, the surges wet thy flagging plumes;
If high, the suu the melting wax consumes.
It must be avowed that for some years past there
have been few things more wanted in England than
such a paper as this ought to be and such I will
cadeavour to make it as long as it shall be found of
any use, without entering into the viglences of either
party. Considering the many grievous misrepresent-
ations of persons and things, it is highly requisite at
this juncture that the people throughout the king-
dom should, if possible, be set right in their opinions
by some impartial hand, which has never been yet
attempted; those who have hitherto undertaken it
being, upon every account, the least qualified of all
human kind for such work.
We live here under a limited monarchy, and under
the doctrine and discipline of an excellent church.
We are unhappily divided into two parties, both
which pretend a mighty zeal for our religion and
government, only they disagree about the means.
The evils we must fence against are, on one side,
fanaticism and infidelity in religion, and anarchy,
under the name of a commonwealth, in government;
ou the other side, popery, slavery, and the pretender
from France. Now, to inform and direct us in our
sentiments upon these weighty points, here are, on
one side, two stupid illiterate scribblers, both of
them fanatics by profession, I mean the Review and
Observator; on the other side, we have an open
Nonjuror, whose character and person, as well as
learning and good sense, discovered upon other
subjects, do indeed deserve respect and esteem ;
but his Rehearsal and the rest of his political papers
are yet more pernicious than those of the former two.
If the generality of the people know not how to talk or
think until they have read their lesson in the papers
of the week, what a misfortune is it that their duty
should be conveyed to them through such vehicles
as those! For, let some gentlemen think what they
please, I cannot but suspect that the two worthies I
first mentioned have, in a degree, done mischief
among us; the mock authoritative manner of the one,
and the insipid mirth of the other, however insup-
portable to reasonable ears, being of a level with great
numbers among the lowest part of mankind. Nei-
ther was the author of the Rehearsal, while he con-
tinued that paper, less infectious to many persons of
better figure, who, perhaps, were as well qualified,
and much less prejudiced, to judge for themselves.
It was this reason that moved me to take the
matter out of those rough as well as those dirty
hands; to let the remote and uninstructed part of
the nation see that they have been misled on both
sides by mad ridiculous extremes, at a wide dis-
|
tance on each side of the truth; while the right path
is so broad and plain as to be easily kept if they were
once put into it.
Further I had lately entered on a resolution to
take little notice of other papers, unless it were such
where the malice and falsehood had so great a mix-
ture of wit and spirit as would make them danger-
ous; which, in the present circle of scribblers, from
twelvepence to a halfpenny, I could easily foresee
| would not very frequently occur, But here again I
am forced to dispense with my resolution, although
it be only to tell my reader what measures I am
likely to take on such occasions for the future. I
was told that the paper called The Observator was
twice filled last week with remarks upon a late
Examiner. These I read with the first opportunity,
and, to speak in the news-writers' phrase, they gave
me occasion for many speculations. I observed
with singular pleasure the nature of those things
which the owners of them usually call answers, and
with what dexterity this matchless author had fallen
into the whole art and cant of them. To transcribe
here and there three or four detached lines of least
weight in a discourse, and by a foolish comment
mistake every syllable of the meaning, is what I
have known many, of a superior class to this for-
midable adversary, entitle an Answer. This is
what he has exactly done, in about thrice as many
words as my whole discourse; which is so mighty
an advantage over me, that I shall by no means en-
gage in so unequal a combat; but, as far as I can
judge of my own temper, entirely dismiss him for the
future; heartily wishing he had a match exactly of his
own size to meddle with, who should only have the
odds of truth and honesty, which, as I take it, would
be an effectual way to silence him for ever. Upon
this occasion I cannot forbear a short story of a
fanatic farmer, who lived in my neighbourhood, and
was so great a disputant in religion that the servants
in all the families thereabouts reported how he had
confuted the bishop and all his clergy. I had then
a footman who was fond of reading the Bible; and
I borrowed a comment for him, which he studied so
close that in a month or two I thought him a match
for the farmer. They disputed at several houses,
with a ring of servants and other people always
about them; where Ned explained his texts so full
and clear to the capacity of his audience, and showed
the insignificancy of his adversary's cant to the
meanest understanding, that he got the whole coun-
try on his side, and the farmer was cured of his itch
of disputation for ever after.
The worst of it is, that this sort of outrageous
party-writers I have spoken of above are like a
couple of makebates, who inflame small quarrels by
a thousand stories, and, by keeping friends at a dis-
tance, hinder them from coming to a good under-
standing, as they certainly would if they were suf-
fered to meet and debate between themselves; for
let any one examine a reasonable honest man, of
either side, upon those opinions in religion and
government which both parties daily buffet each
other about, he shall hardly find one material point
in difference between them. I would be glad to
ask a question about two great men of the late
ministry, how they came to be Whigs? and by what
figure of speech half a dozen others, lately put into
great employments, can be called Tories? I doubt
whoever would suit the definition to the persons,
must make it directly contrary to what we under-
stood it at the time of the Revolution.
In order to remove these misapprehensions among
us, I believe it will be necessary, upon occasion, to
detect the malice and falsehood of some popular
302
THE EXAMINER.
max.ms, which those idiots scatter from the press | pretender with a sponge.
twice a-week, and draw a hundred absurd conse-
quences from them.
For example, I have heard it often objected, as a
great piece of insolence in the clergy and others, to
say or hint that the church was in danger, when it
was voted otherwise in parliament some years ago;
and the queen
herself, in her last speech, did openly
condemn all such insinuations. Notwithstanding
which, I did then and do still believe the church
has, since that vote, been in very imminent danger;
and I think I might then have said so without the
least offence to her majesty or either of the two
houses. The queen's words, as near as I can re-
member, mentioned the church being in danger
from her administration; and whoever says or
thinks that deserves, in my opinion, to be hanged
for a traitor; but that the church and state may be
both in danger, under the best princes that ever
reigned, and without the least guilt of theirs, is such
a truth as a man must be a great stranger to history
and common sense to doubt. The wisest prince on
earth may be forced by the necessity of his affairs
and the present power of an unruly faction, or de-
ceived by the craft of ill-designing men. One or
two ministers, most in his confidence, may at first
have good intentions, but grow corrupted by time,
by avarice, by love, by ambition, and have fairer
terms offered them to gratify their passions or in-
terests from one set of men than another, until tifey
are too far involved for a retreat, and so be forced
to take seven spirits more wicked than themselves,
This is a very possible case; and will not the last state
of such men be worse than the first? that is to say,
will not the public, which was safe at first, grow in
danger by such proceedings as these? And shall a
faithful subject, who foresees and trembles at the
consequences, be called disaffected because he de-
livers his opinion, although the prince declares, as
he justly may, that the danger is not owing to his
administration ? or shall the prince himself be
blamed when, in such a juncture, he puts his
affairs into other hands, with the universal applause
of his people? As to the vote against those who
should affirm the church was in danger, I think it
likewise referred to danger from or under the
queen's administration; for I neither have it by me,
nor can suddenly have recourse to it; but, if it were
otherwise, I know not how it can refer to any dan-
gers but what were past, or at that time present; or
how it could affect the future, unless the senators
were all inspired, or at least that majority which
voted it neither do I see it is any crime, further
than ill manners, to differ in opinion from a majority
of either or both houses; and that ill manners, I
must confess, I have been often guilty of for some
years past, although I hope I never shall again.
Another topic of great use to these weekly in-
flamers is, the young pretender in France, to whom
their whole party is in a high measure indebted for
all their greatness; and whenever it lies in their
power they may perhaps return their acknowledg-
ments, as, out of their zeal for frequent revolutions,
they were ready to do to his supposed father, which
is a piece of secret history that I hope will one day
see the light; and I am sure it shall if ever I am
master of it, without regarding whose ears may
ingle. But at present the word pretender is a term
of art in their profession. A secretary of state can-
ot desire leave to resign, but the pretender is at
bottom; the queen cannot dissolve a parliament,
but it is a plot to dethrone herself and bring in the
pretender; half-a-score stock-jcbbers are playing
the knave in Exchange-alley, and there goes the
One would be apt to
think they bawl out the pretender so often to take
off the terror, or tell so many lies about him to
slacken our caution, that when he is really coming,
by their connivance, we may not believe them, as
the boy served the shepherds about the coming o
the wolf; or perhaps they scare us with the pre-
tender because they think he may be like some
diseases that come with a fright. Do they not be-
lieve that the queen's present ministry love her ma-
jesty at least as well as some loved the church?
And why is it not as great a mark of disaffection
now to say the queen is in danger, as it was some
months ago to affirm the same of the church? Sup-
pose it be a false opinion that the queen's right is
hereditary and indefeasible; yet how is it possible
that those who hold and believe such a doctrine can be
in the pretender's interest? His title is weakened by
every argument that strengthens hers: it is as plain
as the words of an act of parliament can make it
that her present majesty is heir to the survivor of
the late king and queen, her sister is not that an
hereditary right? What need we explain it any
further? I have known an article of faith ex-
pounded in much looser and more general terms,
and that by an author whose opinions are very
much followed by a certain party. Suppose we go
further, and examine the word indefeasible, with
which some writers of late have made themselves so
merry; I confess it is hard to conceive how any
law which the supreme power makes may not by
the same power be repealed; so that I shall not de-
termine whether the queen's right be indefeasible or
not. But this I will maintain, that whoever affirms
it is so is not guilty of a crime; for in that settle-
ment of the crown after the Revolution, where her
present majesty is named in remainder, there are (as
near as I can remember) these remarkable words, "to
which we bind ourselves and our posterity for ever.”
Lawyers may explain this, or call them words of
form, as they please; and reasoners may argue that
such an obligation is against the nature of govern-
ment; but a plain reader, who takes the words in
their natural meaning, may be excused in thinking
a right so confirmed is indefeasible; and if there be
an absurdity in such an opinion, he is not to answer
for it.
P.S. When this paper was going to the press, the
printer brought me two more Observators, wholly
taken up in my Examiner upon lying, which I was
at the pains to read; and they are just such an an-
swer as the two others I have mentioned. This is
all I have to say on that matter.
No. 17.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1710.
Qui sunt boni cives? Qui belli, qui domi de patria brae
merentes, nisi qui patriæ beneficia meminerunt:
Who is the good and laudable citizen? Who in peace, or who
in war, has merited the favour of his country? Who bat
that person who with gratitude remembers and acknow-
ledges the favours and rewards he has already received?
I WILL employ this present paper upon a subject
which of late has very much affected me, which I
have considered with a good deal of application, and
made several inquiries about among those persons
who I thought were best able to inform me; and,
if I deliver my sentiments with some freedom, I
hope it will be forgiven, while I accompany it with
that tenderness which so nice a point requires.
I said in a former paper No. 14) that one spe-
cious objection to the late removals at court was, the
fear of giving uneasiness to a general who has been
1
THE EXAMINER.
303
long successful abroad; and accordingly the com-
mon clamour of tongues and pens for some months
past has run against the baseness, the inconstancy,
and ingratitude of the whole kingdom to the duke
of Marlborough, in return of the most eminent ser-
vices that ever were performed by a subject to his
country; not to be equalled in history: and then,
to be sure, some bitter stroke of detraction against
Alexander and Cæsar, who never did us the least
injury. Besides, the people who read Plutarch
come upon us with parallels drawn from the Greeks
and Romans, who ungratefully dealt with I know
not how many of their most deserving generals;
while the profounder politicians have seen pamphlets
where Tacitus and Machiavel have been quoted to
show the danger of too resplendent a merit.
If a
stranger should hear these serious outcries of ingra-
titude against our general without knowing the
particulars, he would be apt to inquire where was
his tomb, or whether he was allowed christian
burial not doubting but we had put him to some
ignominious death. Or has he been tried for his
life, and very narrowly escaped? has he been ac-
cused of high crimes and misdemeanors? has the
prince seized on his estate and left him to starve ?
has he been hooted at as he passed the streets by an
ungrateful rabble? have neither honours, offices,
nor grants, been conferred on him or his family?
have not he and they been barbarously stripped of
them all have not he and his forces been ill paid
abroad? and does not the prince, by a scanty limited
commission, hinder him from pursuing his own me-
thods in the conduct of the war? has he no power
at all of disposing of commissions as he pleases? is
he not severely used by the ministry or parliament,
who yearly call him to a strict account has the
senate ever thanked him for good success, and have
they not always publicly censured him for the least
miscarriage?-Will the accusers of the nation join
issue upon any of these particulars, or tell us in
what point our damnable sin of ingratitude lies?—
Why, it is plain and clear; for while he is com-
manding abroad, the queen dissolves her parliament
and changes her ministry at home; in which uni-
versal calamity, no less than two persons allied by
marriage to the general [Sunderland and Godolphin]
have lost their places. Whence came this wonder-
ful sympathy between the civil and military powers?
Will the troops in Flanders refuse to fight unless
they can have their own lord-keeper, their own
lord-president of the council, their own parliament?
In a kingdom where the people are free, how came
they to be so fond of having their counsels under the
influence of their army, or those that lead it? who,
in all well-instituted states, had no commerce with
the civil power, further than to receive their orders,
and obey them without reserve.
When a general is not so popular, either in his
army or at home, as one might expect from a long
course of success, it may perhaps be ascribed to his
wisdom, or perhaps to his complexion. The posses-
sion of some one quality, or defect in some other,
will extremely damp the people's favour, as well as
he love of the soldiers. Besides, this is not an age
.o produce favourites of the people, while we live
under a queen who engrosses all our love and all
our veneration; and where the only way for a great
general or minister to acquire any degree of subor-
linate affection from the public must be, by all
marks of the most entire submission and respect to
her sacred person and commands; otherwise, no
pretence of great services, either in the field or the
cabinet, will be able to screen them from universal
hatred.
But the late ministry was closely joined to the
general by friendship, interest, alliance, inclination,
and opinion; which cannot be affirmed of the pre-
sent: and the ingratitude of the nation lies in the
people's joining, as one man, to wish that such a
ministry should be changed. Is it not, at the same
time, notorious to the whole kingdom, that nothing
but a tender regard to the general was able to pre-
serve that ministry so long, until neither God nor
man could suffer their continuance? Yet,
Yet, in the
highest ferment of things, we heard few or no re-
flections upon this great commander; but all seemed
unanimous in wishing he might still be at the head
of the confederate forces; only at the same time, in
case he were resolved to resign, they chose rather to
turn their thoughts somewhere else than throw up
all in despair. And this I cannot but add, in defence
of the people, with regard to the person we are
speaking of, that in the high station he has been for
many years past, his real defects (as nothing human
is without them) have, in a detracting age, been
very sparingly mentioned either in libels or conver-
sation, and all successes very freely and universally
applauded.
There is an active and a passive ingratitude: ap-
plying both to this occasion, we may say, the first is,
when a prince or people returns good services with
cruelty or ill usage; the other is, when good services.
are not at all or very meanly rewarded. We have al-
ready spoken of the former; let us therefore, in the
second place, examine how the services of our
general have been rewarded, and whether, upon
that article, either prince or people have been guilty
of ingratitude.
Those are the most valuable rewards which are
given to us from the certain knowledge of the donor
that they fit our temper best: I shall therefore say
nothing of the title of duke, or the garter, which the
queen bestowed upon the general in the beginning
of her reign; but I shall come to more substantial
instances, and mention nothing which has not been
given in the face of the world. The lands of Wood-
stock may, I believe, be reckoned worth 40,0007.;
on the building of Blenheim castle 200,0007. have
been already expended, although it be not yet near
finished; the grant of 50007. per annum ou the
post-office is richly worth 100,0007.; his principality
in Germany may be computed at 30,000. pictures,
jewels, and other gifts from foreign princes, 60,0007.
the grant at the Pall-mall, the rangership, &c., for
want of more certain knowledge, may be called
10,0007.; his own and his duchess's employments at
five years' value, reckoning only the known and
avowed salaries, are very low rated at 100,0007.
Here is a good deal above half a million of money;
and, I dare say, those who are loudest with the
clamour of ingratitude will readily own that all
this is but a trifle in comparison of what is untold.
The reason of my stating this account is only to
convince the world that we are not quite so un-
grateful either as the Greeks or the Romans; and
in order to adjust the matter with all fairness, I
shall confine myself to the latter, who were much
more generous of the two. A victorious general of
Rome, in the height of that empire, having entirely
subdued his enemies, was rewarded with the larger
triumph, and perhaps a statue in the Forum, a bull
for a sacrifice, an embroidered garment to appear in,
a crown of laurel, a monumental trophy with in-
scriptions; sometimes five hundred or a thousand
copper coins were struck on occasion of the victory,
which, doing honour to the general, we will place to
his account; and lastly, sometimes, although not
very frequently, a triumphal arch. These are all the
201
THE EXAMINER.
rewards that I can call to mind which a victorious
general received after his return from the most glo.
rious expedition; having conquered some great
kingdom; brought the king himself, his family, and
nobles, to adorn the triumph, in chains; and made
the kingdom either a Roman province, or, at best,
a poor depending state, in humble alliance to that
empire. Now, of all these rewards, I find but two
which were of real profit to the general; the laurel
crown, made and sent him at the charge of the pub-
lic, and the embroidered garment; but I cannot find
whether this last was paid for by the senate or the
general: however, we will take the more favourable
opinion; and in all the rest admit the whole ex-
pense, as if it were ready money in the general's
pocket. Now, according to these computations on
both sides, we will draw up two fair accounts; the
one of Roman gratitude, and the other of British
ingratitude, and set them together in balance.
Imprimis
A BILL OF ROMAN GRATITUDE.
For frankincense, and earthen pots to
burn it in
A bull for sacrifice
An embroidered garment
A crown of laurel
A statue
A trophy
A thousand copper medals, value half-1
pence a-piece
A triumphal arch
•
£. s. d.
4 10
0
8 0 0
50 0 0
0 0
100 0
2
0
80 0
0
2
1
8
•
500
0 0
A triumphal car, valued as a modern coach 100 0 0
Casual charges at the triumph
150 0 0
A BILL OF BRITISH INGRATITUDE.
Imprimis-
Woodstock
Blenheim
Post-office grant
Mildenheim
Pictures, jewels, &c.
Pall-mall grant, &c.
Employments
£.
40,000
200,000
100,000
30,000
60,000
10,000
100,000
£ 540,000
thinking, if a proclamation were issued out for every
man to send in his bill of merits, and the lowest
price he set them at, what a pretty sum it would
amount to, and how many such islands as this must
be sold to pay them. I form my judgment from the
practice of those who sometimes happen to pay them-
selves, and, I dare affirm, would not be so unjust as
to take a farthing more than they think is due to
their deserts. I will instance only in one article.
A lady [supposed to be queen Anne] of my ac-
quaintance appropriated twenty-six pounds a-year
out of her allowance, for certain uses, which her
woman received, and was to pay to the lady, or her
order, as it was called for. But, after eight years,
it appeared, upon the strictest calculation, that the
woman had paid but four pounds a-year, and sunk
two-and-twenty for her own pocket. It is but sup-
posing, instead of twenty-six pounds, twenty-six
thousand; and by that you may judge what the pre-
tensions of modern merit are, where it happens to
be its own paymaster.
No. 18.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1710.
Quas res luxuries in flagitiis, avaritia in rapinis, superbia in
contumeliis efficere potuisset; eas omnes sese, hoc uno præ-
tore per triennium, pertulisse aiebant.
These things were the effect of his scandalous and unbounded
luxury, his insatiable avarice, his contumelious insolence.
These were the sufferings of that unhappy nation, for three
years, under his oppressive government.
WHEN I first undertook this paper I was resolved
to concern myself only with things, and not with
persons. Whether I have kept or broken this re-
solution I cannot recollect; and I will not be at the
£994 11 10 pains to examine, but leave the matter to those little
antagonists who may want a topic for criticism.
Thus much I have discovered, that it is in writing as
in building, where, after all our schemes and calcu-
lations, we are mightily deceived in our accounts,
and often forced to make use of any materials we
can find that the work may be kept a-going. Be-
sides, to speak my opinion, the things I have occa-
sion to mention are so closely linked to persons, that
nothing but time (the father of oblivion) can separate
them. Let me put a parallel case:-Suppose I should
complain that last week my coach was within an
inch of overturning in a smooth even way, and
drawn by very gentle horses; to be sure, all my
friends would immediately lay the fault upon John
[duke of Marlborough], because they knew he then
presided in my coach-box. Again, suppose I should
discover some uneasiness to find myself, I knew not
how, over head and ears in debt, although I were
sure my tenants paid their rents very well, and that
I never spent half my income; they would certainly
advise me to turn off Mr. Oldfox [lord Godolphin,
lord-treasurer], my receiver, and take another. If,
as a justice of peace, I should tell a friend that my
warrants and mittimuses were never drawn up as I
would have them; that I had the misfortune to send
an honest man to gaol and dismiss a knave Le
would bid me no longer trust Charles and Harry, a
my two clerks, whom he knew to be ignorant, wilfol
assuming, and ill-inclined fellows. If I should add
that my tenants made me very uneasy with their
squabbles and broils among themselves, he would
counsel me to cashier Will Bigamy [William earl
Cowper], the seneschal of my manor.
And lastly,
This is an account of the visible profits on both
sides; and if the Roman general had any private
perquisites, they may be easily discounted, and by
more probable computations; and differ yet more
upon the balance if we consider that all the gold and
silver for safeguards and contributions, also all valu-
able prizes taken in the war, were openly exposed in
the triumph, and then lodged in the Capitol for the
public service.
So that, upon the whole, we are not yet quite so bad.
at worst as the Romans were at best. And I doubt,
those who raise the hideous cry of ingratitude may
be mightily mistaken in the consequence they pro-
pose from such complaints. I remember a saying
of Seneca, Multos ingratos invenimus, plures fa-
cimus; we find many ungrateful persons in the world,
but we make more by setting too high a rate upon
our pretensions, and undervaluing the rewards we
receive. When unreasonable bills are brought in
they ought to be taxed or cut off in the middle.
Where there have been long accounts between two
persons, I have known one of them perpetually
making large demands, and pressing for payment,
who, when the accounts were cast up on both sides,
was found to be debtor for some hundreds.
I am
if my neighbour and I happened to have a misunder
standing about the delivery of a message, what
could I do less than strip and discard the blun
• Earl of Sunderland, and Henry Boyle, esq., secretasics of
state.
}
1
THE EXAMINER.
395
dering or malicious rascal who carried it? [Horatio | credit lost by former judgments, and recovering the
Walpole,¹
It is the same thing in the conduct of public affairs,
where they have been managed with rashness or
wilfulness, corruption, ignorance, or injustice. Barely
to relate the facts, at least while they are fresh in
mory, will as much reflect upon the persons con-
cerned, as if we had told their names at length.
I have therefore since thought of another expe-
dient, frequently practised with great safety and
success by satirical writers, which is, that of looking
into history for some character bearing a resemblance
to the person we would describe, and with the ab-
solute power of altering, adding, or suppressing what
circumstances we please, I conceive we must have
very bad luck, or very little skill, to fail. However,
some days ago in a coffee-house, looking into one of
the politic weekly papers, I found the writer had
fallen into this scheme, and I happened to light on
that part where he was describing a person who,
from small beginnings, grew (as I remember) to be
constable of France, and had a very haughty imperious
wife. I took the author as a friend to our faction,
for so, with great propriety of speech, they call the
queen and ministry, almost the whole clergy, and
nine parts in ten of the kingdom; and I said to a
gentleman near me, that although I knew well enough
what persons the author meant, yet there were se-
veral particulars in the husband's character which I
could not reconcile; for that of the lady, it was just
and adequate enough. But it seems I mistook the
whole matter, and applied all I had read to a couple
of persons who were not at that time in the writer's
thoughts.
Now, to avoid such a misfortune as this, I have
been for some time consulting Livy and Tacitus, to
find out a character of a princeps senatus, a prætor
urbanus, a quæstor ærarius, a Cæsari ab epistolis, and
a proconsul: but among the worst of them, I cannot
discover one from whom to draw a parallel without
doing injury to a Roman memory, so that I am com-
pelled to have recourse to Tully. But this author
relating facts only as an orator, I thought it would
be best to observe his method, and make an extract
from six harangues of his against Verres, only still
preserving the form of an oration. I remember a
younger brother of mine, who deceased about two
months ago, presented the world with a speech of
Alcibiades against an Athenian brewer. Now I am
told for certain, that in those days there was no ale
in Athens, therefore that speech, or at least a great
part of it, must needs be spurious. The difference
between my brother and me is this; he makes Al-
cibiades say a great deal more than he really did,
and I make Cicero say a great deal less. This
verres had been the Roman governor of Sicily for
three years, and, on his return from his government,
the Sicilians entreated Cicero to impeach him in the
senate, which he accordingly did in several orations,
whence I have faithfully translated and abstracted
that which follows:
a
"MY LORDS,-A pernicious opinion has for some
time prevailed, not only at Rome but among our
neighbouring nations, that a man who has money
enough, although he be ever so guilty, cannot be
condemned in this place. But however industri-
ously this opinion be spread to cast an odium on the
senate, we have brought before your lordships Caius
Verres, a person for his life and actions already con-
demned by all men. But, as he hopes and gives
out by the influence of his wealth to be here absolved
in condemning this man, you have an opportunity
of helying that general scandal, of redeeming the
Earl of Whart n-viceroy of Ireland.
YOL. 1.
|
While
love of the Roman people as well as of our neigh-
bours. I have brought here a man before you, my
lords, who is a robber of the public treasure, an
overturner of law and justice, and the disgrace, as
well as destruction of the Sicilian province; of
whom, if you shall determine with equity and due
severity, your authority will remain entire, and upon
such an establishment as it ought to be: but if his
great riches will be able to force their way through
that religious reverence and truth, which become so
awful an assembly, I shall, however, obtain this
much, that the defect will be laid where it ought;
and that it shall not be objected that the criminal
was not produced, or that there wanted an orator to
accuse him. This man, my lords, has publicly said,
that those ought to be afraid of accusations who
have only robbed enough for their own support and
maintenance; but that he has plundered sufficient
to bribe numbers; and that nothing is so high or so
holy which money cannot corrupt. Take that sup-
port from him, and he can have no other left; for
what eloquence will be able to defend a man whose
life has been tainted with so many scandalous vices,
and who has been so long condemned by the uni-
versal opinion of the world? To pass over the foul
stains and ignominy of his youth, his corrupt ma-
nagement in all employments he has borne, his
treachery and irreligion, his injustice and oppres-
sion: he has left of late such monuments of his vil-
lanies in Sicily, made such havoc and confusion
there during his government, that the province can-
not by any means be restored to its former state,
and hardly recover itself at all, under many years,
and by a long succession of good governors.
this man governed in that island, the Sicilians had
neither the benefit of our laws, nor their own, nor
even of common right. In Sicily, no man now pos-
sesses more than what the governor's lust and ava-
rice have overlooked, or what he was forced to neg-
lect, out of mere weariness and satiety of oppression.
Everything, where he presided, was determined by
his arbitrary will; and the best subjects he treated
as enemies. To recount his abominable debauche-
ries would offend any modest ear, since so many
could not preserve their daughters and wires from
his lust. I believe there is no man, who ever heard
his name, that cannot relate his enormities. We
bring before you in judgment, my lords, a public
robber, an adulterer, a DEFILER OF ALTARS,
enemy of religion, and of all that is sacred.
cily he sold all employments of judicature, magis-
tracy, and trust, places in the council, and the
priesthood itself, to the highest bidder; and has
plundered that island of forty millions of sesterces.
And here I cannot but observe to your lordships, in
what manner Verres passed the day; the morning
was spent in taking bribes and selling employments
-the rest of it in drunkenness and lust. His dis-
course at table was scandalously unbecoming the
dignity of his station; noise, brutality, and obscene-
One particular I cannot omit; that in the
high character of governor of Sicily (Ireland), upon
a solemn day, a day set apart for public prayer for
the safety of the commonwealth, he stole at evening
in a chair to a married woman of infamous character,
against all decency and prudence, as well as against
all laws, both human and divine. Didst thou thiuk,
O Verres! the government of Sicily was given thee
with so large a commission, only, by the power of
that, to break all the bars of law, modesty, and duty,
to suppose all men's fortunes thine, and leave n
house free from thy rapine and lust ?" &c.
ness.
A true story of lord Wharton.
x
a an
In Si-
306
THE EXAMINER.
This extract, to deal ingenuously, has cost me
more pains than I think it is worth, having only
served to convince me, that modern corruptions are
not to be paralleled by ancient examples, without
having recourse to poetry or fable. For instance,
I never read in story of a law enacted to take away
the force of all laws whatsoever; by which a man
may safely commit upon the last of June, what he
would infallibly be hanged for, if he committed it on
the first of July; by which the greatest criminals
may escape, provided they continue long enough in
power to antiquate their crimes, and by stifling them
a while, can deceive the legislature into an amnesty,
of which the enactors do not at that time foresee the
consequence. A cautious merchant will be apt to
suspect, when he finds a man who has the repute of
a cunning dealer, and with whom he has old ac-
counts, urging for a general release. When I reflect
on this proceeding, I am not surprised that those
who contrived a parliamentary sponge for their
crimes are now afraid of a new revolution sponge
for their money and if it were possible to contrive
a sponge that could only affect those who had need
of the other, perhaps it would not be ill employed
No. 19.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1710.
Quippe ubi fas versum atque nefas; tot bella per orbem ;
Tam multæ scelerum facies
Where sacred order, fraud and force confound;
Where impious wars and tumults rage around.
I AM often yiolently tempted to let the world freely
know who the author of this paper is; to tell them
my name and titles at length, which would prevent
abundance of inconsistent criticisms I daily hear
upon it.
Those who are enemies to the notions and
opinions I would advance are sometimes apt to
quarrel with the Examiner, as defective in point
of wit, and sometimes of truth. At other times they
are so generous and candid to allow it is written by
a club, and that very great hands have fingers in it.
As for those who only appear its adversaries in print,
they give me but very little pain. The paper I hold
lies at my mercy, and I can govern it as I please;
therefore, when I begin to find the wit too bright,
the learning too deep, and the satire too keen for
me to deal with (a very frequent case, no doubt,
where a man is constantly attacked by such shrewd
adversaries), I peaceably fold it up, or fling it aside,
and read no more. It would be happy for me to
have the same power over people's tongues, and not
be forced to hear my own work railed and com-
mended fifty times a day; affecting all the while a
countenance wholly unconcerned, and joining, out
of policy or good manners, with the judgment of
both parties: this, I confess, is too great a hardship
for so bashful and unexperienced a writer.
But, alas! I lie under another discouragement of
much more weight. I was very unfortunate in the
choice of my party, when I set up to be a writer.
Where is the merit, or what opportunity to discover
our wit, our courage, or our learning, in drawing
our pens for the defence of a cause which the queen
and both houses of parliament, and nine parts in ten
of the kingdom, have so unanimously embraced? I
am cruelly afraid we politic authors must begin to
lessen our expenses, and lie for the future at the
mercy of our printers. All hopes are now gone of
writing ourselves into places or pensions. A certain
starveling author, who worked under the late admi-
nistration, told me with a heavy heart about a mouth
ago that he, and some others of his brethren, had
secretly offered their service, dog-cheap, to the pre-
sent ministry, but were all refused; and are now
maintained by contribution like Jacobites or fanatics,
I have been of late employed, out of perfect commi-
seration, in doing them good offices: for, whereas
some were of opinion that these hungry zealots
should not be suffered any longer, in their malapert
way, to suarl at the present course of public pro-
ceedings; and whereas others proposed that they
should be limited to a certain number, and permitted
to write for their masters in the same manner as coun-
sel are assigned for other criminals, that is, to say all
they can in defence of their client, but not reflect
upon the court; I humbly gave my advice, that they
should be suffered to write on as they used to do,
which I did purely out of regard to their persons,
for I hoped it would keep them out of harm's way,
and prevent them from falling into evil courses;
which, though of little consequence to the public,
would certainly be fatal to themselves. If I have
room at the bottom of this paper, I will transcribe a
petition to the present ministry, sent me by one of
these authors, in behalf of himself and fourscore
others of his brethren.
For my own part, notwithstanding the little en-
couragement to be hoped for at this time from the
men in power, I shall continue my paper, till either
the world or myself grow weary of it: the latter is
easily determined; and, for the former, I shall not
leave it to the partiality of either party, but to the
infallible judgment of my printer. One principal
end I designed by it was to undeceive those well-
meaning people who have been drawn unawares into
a wrong sense of things, either by the common pre-
judices of education and company, the great per-
sonal qualities of some party leaders, or the foul
misrepresentations that were constantly made of all
who durst differ from them in the smallest article.
I have known such men struck with the thoughts of
some late changes, which as they pretend to think,
were made, without any reason visible to the world.
In answer to this, it is not sufficient to allege, what
nobody doubts, that a good and wise prince may be
allowed to change his ministers, without giving a
reason to his subjects; because it is probable, that
he will not make such a change without very im-
portant reasons; and a good subject ought to sup.
pose, that, in such a case, there are such reasons,
although he be not apprised of them; otherwise he
must inwardly tax his prince of capriciousness, in-
constancy, or ill design. Such reasons, indeed, inay
not be obvious to persons prejudiced, or at a great
distance, or short thinkers; and, therefore, if there
be no secrets of state nor any ill consequences to be
apprehended from their publication, it is no uncom-
mendable work in any private hand, to lay them
open for the satisfaction of all men. And if what
I have already said, or shall hereafter say, of this
kind, be thought to reflect upon persons, although
none have been named, I know not how it can pos-
sibly be avoided. The queen in her speech men-
tions, with great concern, that "the navy and other
offices are burdened with heary debts; and desires
that the like may be prevented for the time to come."
And if it be now possible to prevent the continu-
ance of an evil that has been so long growing upon
us, and is arrived to such a height, surely those cor-
ruptions and mismanagements must have been great
which first introduced them, before our taxes were
eaten up by annuities.
If I were able to rip up and discover, in all their
colours, only abcut eight or nine thousand of the
most scandalous abuses that have been committed
in all parts of public management for twenty years
past, by a certain set of men and their instruments,
{
THE EXAMINER.
I should reckon it some service to my country and
posterity. But, to say the truth, I should be glad
the authors' names were conveyed to future times,
along with their actions. For although the present age
may understand well enough the little hints we
give, the parallels we draw, and the characters we
describe, yet all this will be lost to the next, How-
ever, if these papers, reduced into a more durable
form, should happen to live till our grandchildren be
men, I hope they may have curiosity enough to con-
sult annals, and compare dates, in order to find out
what names were then intrusted with the conduct
of affairs, in the consequences whereof themselves
will so deeply share; like a heavy debt in a private
family, which often lies an incumbrance upon an
estate for three generations.
But, leaving the care of informing posterity to
better pens, I shall, with due regard to truth, dis-
cretion, and the safety of my person from the men
of the new-fangled moderation, continue to take all
proper opportunities of letting the misled part of
the people see how grossly they have been abused,
and in what particulars.
particulars. I shall also endeavour to
convince them that the present course we are in is
the most probable means, with the blessing of God,
to extricate ourselves out of all our difficulties.
Among those who are pleased to write or talk
against this paper, I have observed a strange manner
of reasoning, which I should be glad to hear them
explain themselves upon. They make no ceremony
of exclaiming upon all occasions against a change of
ministry, in so critical and dangerous a conjuncture.
What shall we, who heartily approve and join in
those proceedings, say in defence of them? We own
the juncture of affairs to be as they describe: we
are pushed for an answer; and are forced at last
freely to confess that the corruptions and abuses in
every branch of the administration were so numerous
and intolerable, that all things must have ended in
ruin without some speedy reformation. This I
have already asserted in a former paper; and the
replies I have read or heard have been in plain
terms to affirm the direct contrary: and not only to
defend and celebrate the late persons and proceed-
ings, but to threaten me with law and vengeance for
casting reflections on so many great and honourable
men, whose birth, virtue, and abilities, whose morals
and religion, whose love of their country, and its
constitution in church and state, were so universally
allowed; and all this set off with odious compari-
sons, reflecting on the present choice; is not this,
in plain and direct terms, to tell all the world that
the queeu has, in a most dangerous crisis, turned out
a whole set of the best ministers that ever served a
prince, without any manner of reason but her royal
pleasure, and brought in others, of a character di-
rectly contrary? And how so vile an opinion as
this can consist with the least pretence to loyalty or
good manners, let the world determine.
I confess myself so little a refiner in politics
as not to be able to discover what other motive,
besides obedience to the queen, a sense of public
danger, and a true love of their country, joined with
invincible courage, could spirit up those great men,
who have now, under her majesty's authority, un-
dertaken the direction of affairs. What can they
expect but the utmost efforts of malice, from a set
of enraged domestic adversaries, perpetually watch-
ing over their conduct, crossing all their designs,
and using every art to foment divisions among them,
in order to join with the weakest, upon any rupture?
The difficulties they must encounter are nine times
more and greater than ever; and the prospects of the
1.terest, after the reapings and gleanings of so many
1
307
years, nine times less. Every misfortune at home
or abroad, although the necessary consequence of
former counsels, will be imputed to them; and all
the good success given to the merit of former schemes.
A sharper has held your cards all the evening, play-
ed booty, and lost your money; and when things
are almost desperate you employ an honest gentle-
man to retrieve your losses.
I would ask, whether the queen's speech does nut
contain her intentions, in every particular relating
to the public, that a good subject, a Briton, and a
To carry
Protestant, can possibly have at heart?
on the war in all its parts, particularly in Spain,
with the utmost vigour, in order to procure a safe
and honourable peace for us and our allies; to find
some ways of paying the debts of the navy; to sup-
port and encourage the church of England; to pre-
serve the British constitution according to the
Union; to maintain the indulgence by law allowed
to scrupulous consciences; and to employ none but
such as are for the protestant succession in the house
of Hanover." It is known enough, that speeches
on these occasions are ever digested by the advice
of those who are in the chief confidence; and, con-
sequently, that these are the sentiments of her ma-
jesty's ministers, as well as her own; and we see
the two houses have unanimously agreed with her
in every article.
When the least counterpaces
[counterpoises] are made to any of these resolutions,
it will then be time enough for our male-contents to
bawl out popery, persecution, arbitrary power, and
the pretender. In the mean while, it is a little hard
to think that this island can hold but six men, of ho-
nesty and ability enough to serve their prince and
country or that our safety should depend upon their
credit any more than it would upon the breath in
their nostrils. Why should not a revolution in the
ministry be sometimes necessary, as well as a revolu-
tion in the crown? It is to be presumed the former
is at least as lawful in itself, and perhaps the experi-
ment not quite so dangerous. The revolution of
the sun about the earth was formerly thought a ne-
cessary expedient to solve appearances, although it
left many difficulties unanswered; until philoso-
phers contrived a better, which is that of the earth's
revolution about the sun. This is found, upon ex-
perience, to save much time and labour, to correct
many irregular motions, and is better suited to the
respect due from a planet to a fixed star.
No. 20.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1710.
Sunt quibus in sa ira videar uimiş acer, et ultra
Legem tendere opus: sine nervaitera quicquid
Composui pars esse putat
There are to whom too poignant I appear,
Beyond the laws of satire to severe.
My lines are weak, unsinewed. others say,
A man may spin a thousand such a-day.
WHEN the printer came last week for his copy, he
brought along with him a bundle of those papers,
which, in the phrase of Whig coffeehouses, have
swinged off the Examiner, most of which I had
never seen or heard of before. I remember some
time ago, in one of the Tailers, to have read a letter
wherein several reasons are assigned for the present
corruption and degeneracy of our taste; but I think
the writer has omitted the principal one, which I
take to be the prejudice of parties. Neither can I
excuse either side of this infirmity: I have heard the
arrantest drivellers, pro and con, commended for
their shrewdness, even by men of tolerable judg-
ment; and the best performances exploded as non-
sense and stupidity,
sense and stupidity, This, indeed, toay parily be
I 2
308
THE EXAMINER.
imputed to policy and prudence; but it is chiefly
owing to that blindness which prejudice and passion
cast over the understanding, I mention this because
I think it properly within my province in quality of
Examiner. And having granted more than is usual
for an enemy to do, I must now take leave to say,
that so weak a cause, and so ruined a faction, were
never provided with pens more resembling their
condition or less suited to their occasions.
Non tali auxilio, nec defensoribus istis,
Tempus eget
This is the more to be wondered at, when we con-
sider they have the full liberty of the press; that
they have no other way left to recover themselves;
and that they want not men of excellent parts to set
their arguments in the best light they will bear.
Now, if two men would argue on both sides with
fairness, good sense, and good manners, it would be
no ill entertainment to the town, and perhaps be
the most effectual means to reconcile us. But I am
apt to think, that men of great genius are hardly
brought to prostitute their pens in a very odious.
cause; which, besides, is more properly undertaken
by noise and impudence, by gross railing and scur-
rility, by calumny and lying, and by little trifling
cavils and carpings in the wrong place, which those
whifflers use for arguments and answers.
à
I was well enough pleased with the story of one
of these answerers, who, in a paper last week, found
many faults with a late calculation of mine. Being,
it seems, more deeply learned than his fellows, he
was resolved to begin his answer with a Latin verse,
as well as other folks. His business was to look out
for something against the Examiner, that would pre-
tend to tax accounts; and, turning over Virgil,' he
had the luck to find these words,
fugiant examina taxos;
so down they went, and out they would have come,
if one of his unlucky prompters had not hindered it.
I here declare, once for all, that if these people
will not be quiet, I shall take the bread out of their
mouths, and answer the Examiner myself, which I
protest I have never yet done, although I have been
often charged with it; neither have those answers
been written or published with my privity, as mali-
cious people are pleased to give out; nor do I be-
lieve the common Whiggish report, that the authors
are hired by the ministry, to give my paper a value.
But the friends of this paper have given me more
uneasiness with their impatience than its enemies
by their answers. I heard myself censured last week,
by some of the former, for promising to discover the
corruptions of the late administration, but never
performing anything. The latter, on the other side,
are thundering out their anathemas against me, for
discovering so many. I am at a loss how to decide
between these contraries, and shall therefore pro-
ceed after my own way, as I have hitherto done;
my design being of more importance than that of
writing only to gratify the spleen of one side, or
provoke that of the other, although it may occasion-
ally have both effects.
I shall therefore go on to relate some facts, that,
in my humble opinion, were no hindrance to the
change of the ministry.
The first I shall mention was that of introducing
certain new phrases into the court style, which had
been very seldom, or never, made use of in former
times. They usually ran in the following terms:
“Madam, I cannot serve you while such a one is in
employment. I desire, humbly, to resign my com-
mission, if Mr continues secretary of state.
I cannot answer that the city will lend money, un-
less my 1 -d be president of the council. I
must beg leave to surrender, except has his
staff. I must not accept the seals, unless
comes into the other office." This has been the
language of late years from subjects to their prince.
Thus they stood upon terms, and must have their
conditions to ruin the nation. Nay, this dutiful
manner of capitulating had spread so far, that every
understrapper began at length to perk up and as
sume; he expected a regiment; or his son must be
a major; or his brother a collector; else he threat-
ened to vote according to his conscience.
Another of their glorious attempts was the clause
intended in the bill for the encouragement of learn-
ing, by taking off the obligation upon fellows of col-
leges, in both universities, to enter upon holy orders:
the design of which, as I have heard the undertakers
often confess, was to remove the care of educating
youths out of the hands of the clergy, who are apt
to infuse into their pupils too great a regard for the
church and the monarchy. But there was a farther
secret in this clause, which may best be discovered
by the first projectors, or at least the garblers of it
and these are known to be Collins and Tindall,
in conjunction with a most pious lawyer, their
disciple.
What shall we say to their prodigious skill in
arithmetic, discovered so constantly in their decision
of elections; where they were able to make out by
the rule of false that three were more than three-
and-twenty, and fifteen than fifty? Nay, it was a
maxim, which I never heard any of them dispute,
that in determining elections they were not to consider
where the right lay, but which of the candidates was
likelier to be true to the cause. This they used to
illustrate by a very apt and decent similitude, of
gaming with a sharper ;-if you cannot cheat as well
as he, you are certainly undone.
Another cast of their politics was, that of endea-
vouring to impeach an innocent lady [Mrs. after-
wards lady Masham], for no reason imaginable but
her faithful and diligent service to the queen, and
the favour her majesty bore to her upon that ac-
count, when others had acted contrary in so shame-
ful a manner. What else was the crime? Had she
treated her royal raistress with insolence or neglect?
Had she enriched herself by a long practice of
bribery, and obtained exorbitant grants? Had she
engrossed her majesty's favours, without admitting
any access but through her means? Had she heaped
employments upon herself, her family, and depend-
ants? Had she an imperious haughty behaviour?
Or, after all, was it a perfect blunder, and mistake
of one person for another? I have heard of a man,
who lay all night on a rough pavement, and in the
morning, wondering what it could possibly be that
made him rest so ill, happening to see a feather
under him, imputed the uneasiness of his lodging
to that. I remember likewise the story of a giant
but
in Rabelais, who used to feed upon windmills;
was unfortunately choked with a small lump of fresh
butter, before a warm oven.
And here I cannot but observe how very refined
some people are in their generosity and gratitude.
There is a certain great person [lord Nottingham] (I
shall not say of what sex), who for many years past
was the constant mark and butt against which our
present malecontents used to discharge their resent-
ment; upon whom they bestowed all the terms of
scurrility, that malice, envy, and indignation, could
invent; whom they publicly accused of every vice
that can possess a human heart; pride, covetous-
ness, ingratitude, oppression, treachery, dissimula-
tion, violence, and fury, all in the highest extremes:
but of late they have changed their language on a
THE EXAMINER.
309
sudden; that person is now the most faithful and
just that ever served a prince; that person, origin-
ally differing from them in principles as far as east
from west, but united in practice, and falling toge-
ther, they are now reconciled, and find twenty re-
semblances between each other, which they could
never discover before. Tanti est, ut placeam tibi
perire!
But to return:-how could it be longer suffered
in a free nation, that all avenues to preferment
should be shut up, except a very few; when one or
two stood constant sentry, who docked all favours
they handed down, or spread a huge invisible net
between the prince and subject, and through which
nothing of value could pass? And here I cannot
but admire at one consequence from this manage-
ment, which is of an extraordinary nature. Gene-
rally speaking, princes, who have ill ministers, are
apt to suffer in their reputation, as well as in the
love of the people; but it was not so with the queen.
When the sun is overcast by those clouds he exhales
from the earth, we still acknowledge his light and
influence, and at last find he can dispel and drive
them down to the horizon. The wisest prince, by
the necessity of affairs, the misrepresentations of de-
signing men, or the innocent mistakes even of a
good predecessor, may find himself encompassed by
a crew of courtiers, whom time, opportunity, and
success, have miserably corrupted; and if he can
save himself and his people from ruin, under the
worst administration, what may not his subjects
hope for, when, with their universal applause, he
changes hands, and makes use of the best?
Another great objection with me against the late
party was the cruel tyranny they put upon con-
science, by a barbarous inquisition, refusing to admit
the least toleration or indulgence. They imposed a
hundred tests, but could never be prevailed on to
dispense with or take off the smallest, or even to
admit of occasional conformity, but went on daily
(as their apostle Tindall expresses it) narrowing their
terms of communion, pronouncing nine parts in ten
of the kingdom heretics, and shutting them out of
the pale of their church. These very men, who talk
so much of a comprehension in religion among us,
how came they to allow so little of it in polities,
which is their sole religion? You shall hear them
pretending to bewail the animosities kept up be-
tween the church of England and dissenters, where
the differences in opinion are so few and incon-
siderable; yet these very sons of moderation were
pleased to excommunicate every man who disagreed
with them in the smallest article of their political
creed, or who refused to receive any new article,
how difficult soever to digest, which the leaders im-
posed at pleasure to serve their own interest.
I will quit this subject for the present, when I
have told one story: "There was a great king in
Scythia, whose dominions were bounded on the north
by the poor mountainous territories of a petty lord,
who paid homage as the king's vassal. The Scythian
prime minister, being largely bribed, indirectly ob-
tained his master's consent to suffer this lord to build
forts, and provide himself with arms, under pre-
tence of preventing the inroads of the Tartars. This
little depending sovereign, finding he was now in a
condition to be troublesome, began to insist upon
terms, and threatened upon every occasion to unite
with the Tartars; upon which the prime minister,
who began to be in pain about his head, proposed a
match betwixt his master and the only daughter of
this tributary lord, which he had the good luck to
bring to pass; and from that time valued himself as
author of a most glorious union, which indeed was
grown of absolute necessity by his corruption."
This passage, cited literally from an old history of
Sarmatia, I thought fit to set down, on purpose to
perplex little smattering remarkers, and put them
upon the hunt for an application.
No. 21
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1710.
puguacem scireut sapiente minorem.
Arms to the gown the victory must yield.
I AM very much at a loss how to proceed upon the
subject intended in this paper, which a new incident
has led me to engage in. The subject I mean is
that of soldiers and the army; but being a matter
wholly out of my trade, I shall handle it in as cau-
tious a manner as I am able.
It is certain that the art of war has suffered great
changes almost in every age and country of the
world; however, there are some maxims relating to
it that will be eternal truths, and which every rea-
sonable man must allow.
The
In the early times of Greece and Rome the armies
of those states were composed of their citizens, who
took no pay, because the quarrel was their own;
and therefore the war was usually decided in one
campaign; or if it lasted longer, yet in winter the
soldiers returned to their several callings, and were
not distinguished from the rest of the people.
Gothic governments in Europe, although they were
of military institution, yet observed almost the same
method. I shall instance only here in England:
those who held lands in capite of the king were
obliged to attend him in his wars with a certain
number of men, who all held lands from them at
easy rents on that condition. These fought without
pay; and when the service was over, returned again
to their farms. It is recorded of William Rufus,
that being absent in Normandy, and engaged in a
war with his brother, he ordered twenty thousand
men to be raised, and sent over hence to supply his
army, but having struck up a peace before they were
embarked, he gave them leave to disband, upon con-
dition they would pay him ten shillings a man, which
amounted to a mighty sum in those days.
Consider a kingdom as a great family, whereof the
prince is the father, and it will appear plainly, that
mercenary troops are only servants armed, either to
awe the children at home, or else to defend from
invaders the family who are otherwise employed,
and choose to contribute out of their stock for paying
their defenders, rather than leave their affairs to be
neglected in their absence. The art of making
soldiery a trade, and keeping armies in pay, seems
in Europe to have had two originals; the first was
usurpation, when popular men destroyed the liberties
of their country and seized the power into their own
hands, which they were forced to maintain by hiring
guards to bridle the people. Such were anciently
the tyrants in most of the small states of Greece;
and such were those in several parts of Italy about
three or four centuries ago, as Machiavel informs
us. The other original of mercenary armies seems
to have risen from larger kingdoms or common-
wealths, which had subdued provinces at a distance,
and were forced to maintain troops upon them, to
prevent insurrections from the natives. Of this sort
were Macedon, Carthage, and Rome of old; Venice
and Holland at this day, as well as most kingdoms
in Europe. So that mercenary forces in a free state,
whether monarchy or commonwealth, seem only ne-
cessary, either for preserving their conquests (which
in such governments it is not prudent to extend too
far), or else for maintaining war at a distance.
no
THE EXAMINER.
In this last, which at present is our most important, tuals in some, who are said to excel that way, is not
case, there are certain maxims that all wise govern-
ments have observed.
The first I shall mention is, that no private man
should have a commission to be general for life, let
his merit and services be ever so great; or if a prince
be unadvisedly brought to offer such a commission
in one hand, let him (to save time and blood) de-
liver up his crown with the other. The Romans,
in the height and perfection of their government,
usually sent out one of the new consuls to be general
against their most formidable enemy, and recalled
the old one, who often returned before the next
election, and, according as he had merit, was sent to
command in some other part, which perhaps was
continued to him for a second, and sometimes a third
year. But if Paulus Emilius, or Scipio himself,
had presumed to move the senate to continue their
commission for life, they would certainly have fallen.
a sacrifice to the jealousy of the people. Cæsar,
indeed (between whom and a certain general, some
of late, with much discretion, have made a parallel)
had his command in Gaul continued to him for five
years, and was afterwards made perpetual Dictator,
that is to say, general for life, which gave him the
power and the will of utterly destroying the Roman
liberty. But in his time the Romans were very
much degenerated, and great corruptions had crept
into their morals and discipline. However, we see
there still were some remains of a noble spirit among
them; for when Cæsar sent to be chosen consul,
notwithstanding his absence, they decreed he should
come in person, give up his command, and petere
more majorum.
It is not impossible, but a general may desire such
a commission out of inadvertency, at the instigation
of his friends, or perhaps of his enemies, or merely
for the benefit and honour of it, without intending
any such dreadful consequences; and in that case, a
wise prince, or state, may barely refuse it, without
showing any marks of their displeasure. But the
request, in its own nature, is highly criminal, and
ought to be entered so upon record, to terrify others
in time to come from venturing to make it.
Another maxim to be observed by a free state en-
gaged in war is, to keep the military power in abso-
lute subjection to the civil, nor ever suffer the former
to influence or interfere with the latter. A general
and his army are servants hired by the civil power to
act, as they are directed thence, and with a commis-
sion large or limited as the administration shall think
fit; for which they are largely paid in profit and
honour. The whole system by which armies are
governed is quite alien from the peaceful institutions
of states at home; and if the rewards be so inviting
as to tempt a senator to take a post in the army,
while he is there on his duty, he ought to consider
himself in no other capacity. I know not any sort
of men so apt as soldiers are to reprimand those who
presume to interfere in what relates to their trade.
When they hear any of us in a coffeehouse wonder-
ing that such a victory was not pursued; complaining
that such a town cost more men and money than it
was worth to take it; or, that such an opportunity
was lost in fighting the enemy; they presently re-
prove us, and often with justice enough, for meddling
with matters out of our sphere; and clearly convince
us of our mistakes, by terms of art that none of us
understand. Nor do we escape so; for they reflect
with the utmost contempt on our ignorance, that we,
who sit at home in ease and security, never stirring
from our firesides, should pretend from books and
general reason to argue upon military affairs; which,
after all, if we may judge from the share of intellec-
But, if
so very profound or difficult a science.
there be any weight in what they offer, as perhaps
there may be a great deal, surely these gentlemen
have a much weaker pretence to concern themselves
in matters of the cabinet, which are always either
far above, or much beside their capacities. Soldiers
may as well pretend to prescribe rules for trade, to
determine points in philosophy, to be moderators in
an assembly of divines or direct in a court of justize, as
to misplace their talent in examining affairs of state,
especially in what relates to the choice of ministers,
who are never so likely to be ill chosen as when ap-
proved by them. It would be endless to show how
pernicious all steps of this nature have been in many
parts and ages of the world. I shall only produce
two at present; one in Rome, the other in England.
The first is of Cæsar: when he came to the city with
his soldiers to settle the ministry, there was an end
of their liberty for ever. The second was, in the
great rebellion against king Charles the First: the
king and both houses were agreed upon the terms of
a peace; but the officers of the army (as Ludlow
relates it) set a guard upon the house of commons,
took a list of the members, and kept all by force out of
the house, except those who were for bringing the
king to a trial. Some years after, when they erected
a military government, and ruled the island by major-
generals, we received most admirable instances of
their skill in politics. To say the truth, such formi-
dable sticklers can have but two reasons for desiring
to interfere in the administration; the first is, that
of Cæsar and Cromwell, of which God forbid I
should accuse or suspect anybody, since the second
is pernicious enough, and that is, to preserve those
in power, who are for perpetuating a war, rather
than see others advanced, who, they are sure, will
use all proper means to promote a safe and honour-
able peace.
Thirdly, since it is observed of armies, that, in the
present age, they are brought to some degree of
humanity, and more regular demeanour to each other
and to the world than in former times, it is cer-
tainly a good maxim to endeavour to preserve this
temper among them; without which they would
soon degenerate into savages. To this end, it would
be prudent, among other things, to forbid that de-
testable custom of drinking to the damnation or
confusion of any person whatsoever.
Such desperate acts, and the opinions infused
along with them into heads already inflamed by
youth and wine, are enough to scatter madness and
sedition through a whole camp. So seldom upon
their knees to pray, and so often to curse! this is not
properly atheism, but a sort of anti-religion prescribed
by the devil, and which an atheist of common sense
would scorn as an absurdity. I have heard it men-
tioned as a common practice last autumn, somewhere
or other, to drink damnation and confusion (and
this with circumstances very aggravating and horrid)
to the new ministry, and to those who had any hand
in turning out the old; that is to say, to those per-
sons whom her majesty has thought fit to employ in
her greatest affairs, with something more than a
glance against the queen herself. And if it be true
that these orgies were attended with certain doubtful
words of standing by their general, who, without
question, abhorred them, let any man consider the
consequence of such dispositions, if they should
happen to spread. I could only wish, for the honour
of the army, as well as of the queen and ministry.
that a remedy had been applied to the disease, in
the place and time where it grew. If men of such
principles were able to propagate them in a camp.
THE EXAMINER.
311
and were sure of a general for life, who had any
tincture of ambition, we might soon bid farewell to
ministers and parliaments, whether new or old.
I am only sorry such an accident has happened
toward the close of a war, when it is chiefly the in-
terest of those gentlemen, who have posts in the army,
to behave themselves in such a manner as might en-
courage the legislature to make some provision for
them. when there will be no farther need of their
services. They are to consider themselves as persons,
by their education, unqualified for many other stations
of life. Their fortunes will not suffer them to re-
tain to a party after its fall, nor have they weight or
abilities to help toward its resurrection. Their
future dependence is wholly upon the prince and
parliament, to which they will never make their way
by solemn execrations of the ministry; a ministry
of the queen's own election, and fully answering the
wishes of her people. This unhappy step in some
of their brethren may pass for an uncontrollable
argument, that politics are not their business or their
element. The fortune of war has raised several
persons up to swelling titles, and great commands
over numbers of men, which they are too apt to
transfer along with them into civil life, and appear
in all companies, as if they were at the head of their
regiments, with a sort of deportment that ought to
have been dropt behind in that short passage to Har-
wich. It puts me in mind of a dialogue in Lucian,
where Charon, wafting one of their predecessors
over Styx, ordered him to strip off his armour and
fine clothes, yet still thought him too heavy: "But,"
said he, "put off likewise that pride and presump-
tion, those high-swelling words, and that vain glory;
because they were of no use on the other side of the
water.
Thus, if all that array of military grandeur
were confined to the proper scene, it would be much
more for the interest of the owners, and less offen-
sive to their fellow-subjects.
No. 22.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1710.
Nain et majorum instituta tueri, sacris ceremouiisque retinen
di-, sapientis est.
-Ruituraque semper
Stat (mirum !) moles-
A wise man will protect and defend the rights of the church ;
which, in spite of the malice of its enemies, although totter
ing, and on the brink of destruction, stands secure, to tne
admiration of all men.
WHOEVER is a true lover of our constitution must
needs be pleased to see what successful endeavours
are daily made to restore it, in every branch, to its
ancient form, from the languishing condition it has
loug in in, and with such deadly symptoms.
I have already handled some abuses during the
late management, and shall, in convenient time, go
on with the rest. Hitherto I have confined myself
to those of the state; but, with the good leave of
some who think it a matter of small moment, I shall
now take liberty to say something of the church.
For several years past there has not, I think, in
Europe, been any society of men upon so unhappy
a foot as the clergy of England, nor more hardly
treated by those very persons from whom they de-
served much better quarter, and in whose power
they chiefly had put it to use them so ill. I would
not willingly misrepresent facts; but I think it gene-
rally allowed by enemies and friends, that the bold
and brave defences made before the Revolution
against those many invasions of our rights, proceed- |
ed principally from the clergy, who are likewise
known to have rejected all advances made them, to
close with the measures at that time concerting
•
while the dissenters, to gratify their ambition and
revenge, fell into the basest compliances with the
court, approved of all proceedings by their numerous
and fulsome addresses, and took employments and
commissions, by virtue of the dispensing power,
All this is so
against the direct laws of the land.
true, that if ever the pretender comes in, they will,
next to those of his own religion, have the fairest
claim and pretensions to his favour, from their merit
and eminent services to his supposed father; who,
without such encouragement, would probably never
have been misled to go the lengths he did. It
should likewise be remembered, to the everlasting
honour of the London divines, that, in those dan-
gerous times, they writ and published the best col-
lection of arguments against popery that ever ap-
peared in the world. At the Revolution, the body
of the clergy joined heartily in the common cause,
except a few, whose sufferings, perhaps, have atoned
for their mistakes, like men who are content to go
about for avoiding a gulf or a precipice, but come
into the old straight road again as soon as they can.
But another temper had now began to prevail; for,
as in the reign of king Charles the First, several
well-meaning people were ready to join in reforming
some abuses, while others, who had deeper designs,
were still calling cut for a thorough reformation,
which ended at last in the ruin of the kingdom; so,
after the late king's coming to the throne, there was
a restless cry from men of the same principles for a
thorough revolution, which, as some were carrying
it on, must have ended in the destruction of the
monarchy and church.
What a violent humour has run ever since against
the clergy, and from what corner spread and foment-
It looked
ed, is, I believe, manifest to all men.
like a set quarrel against christianity; and if we
call to mind several of the leaders, it must, in a great
measure, have been actually so. Nothing was more
common, in writing and conversation, than to hear
that reverend body charged in gross with what was
utterly inconsistent, despised for their poverty, hated
for their riches; reproached with avarice and taxed
with luxury; accused for promoting arbitrary power,
and for resisting the prerogative; censured for their
pride, and scorned for their meanness of spirit. The
representatives of the lower clergy were railed at for
disputing the power of the bishops, by the known
abhorrers of episcopacy, and abused for doing no-
thing in the convocations, by those very men who
helped to bind up their hands. The vice, the folly,
the ignorance of every single man, were laid upon
the character; their jurisdiction, censures, and dis-
cipline, trampled under foot; yet mighty complaints
against their excessive power; the men of wit em-
ployed to turn the priesthood itself into ridicule
in short, groaning everywhere under the weight of
poverty, oppression, contempt, and obloquy.
fair return for the time and money spent in their
education to fit them for the service of the altar
and a fair encouragement for worthy men to come
into the church! However, it may be some comfort
to the persons of that holy function, that their divine
Founder, as well as his harbinger, met with the like
reception:-"John came neither eating nor drink-
ing, and they say he hath a devil; the Son of Man
came eating and drinking, and they say, behold a
glutton and a wine-bibber," &c.
A
In this deplorable state of the clergy nothing but
the hand of Providence, working by its glorious in-
strument the queen, could have been able to turn
the people's hearts so surprisingly in their favour.
This princess, destined for the safety of Europe,
and a blessing to her subjects, began her re 31 with
!
312
THE EXAMINER.
a noble benefaction to the church; and it was hoped |
the nation would have followed such an example,
which nothing could have prevented but the false
politics of a set of men who form their maxims upon
those of every tottering commonwealth, which is
always struggling for life, subsisting by expedients,
and often at the mercy of any powerful neighbour.
These men take it into their imagination that trade
can never flourish unless the country becomes a
common receptacle for all nations, religions, and
languages; a system only proper for small popular
states, but altogether unworthy and below the dignity
of an imperial crown; which, with us, is best upheld
by a monarchy in possession of its just prerogative,
a senate of nobles and of commons, and a clergy
established in its due rights, with a suitable main-
tenance by law. But these men come, with the
spirit of shopkeepers, to frame rules for the adminis-
tration of kingdoms; or, as if they thought the
whole art of government consisted in the importation
of nutmegs and the curing of herrings. Such an
island as ours can afford enough to support the
majesty of a crown, the honour of a nobility, and
the dignity of a magistracy; we can encourage arts
and sciences, maintain our bishops and clergy, and
suffer our gentry to live in a decent hospitable man-
ner; yet still there will remain hands sufficient for
trade and manufactures, which do always indeed
deserve the best encouragement, but not to a degree
of sending every living soul into the warehouse or
the workshop.
This pedantry of republican politica has done in-
finite mischief among us. To this we owe those
noble schemes of treating Christianity as a system
of speculative opinions which no man should be
bound to believe; of making the being and the wor-
ship of God a creature of the state; in consequence
of these, that the teachers of religion ought to hold
their maintenance at pleasure, or live by the alms
and charitable collection of the people, and be
equally encouraged of all opinions; that they should
be prescribed what to teach by those who are to
learn from them; and, upon default, have a staff
and a pair of shoes, left at their door, with many
other projects of equal piety, wisdom and good
nature.
3
But God be thanked, they and their schemes are
vanished, and their places shall know them no more.
When I think of that inundation of atheism, infide-
lity, profaneness, and licentiousness, which was
likely to overwhelm us, from what mouths and
hearts it first proceeded, and how the people joined
with the queen's endeavours to divert this flood, I
cannot but reflect on that remarkable passage in the
Revelation, where "the serpent with seven heads b
cast out of his mouth water after the woman, like a
flood, that he might cause her to be carried away of
the flood: but the earth helped the woman, and the
earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood
which the dragon had cast out of his mouth.' For
the queen having changed her ministry suitably to
her own wisdom and the wishes of her subjects, and
having called a free parliament, and at the same
time summoned the convocation by her royal writ,
as in all times had been accustomed; and, soon after
their meeting, sent a most gracious letter to the
archbishop of Canterbury, to be communicated to
the bishops and clergy of his province, taking notice
of "the loose and profane principles which had
been openly scattered and propagated among her
subjects; that the consultations of the clergy were
• To give intimation, like the Dutch, that it was time to
withdraw themselves from the state.
The chiefs of the opposition, called a IIcptarchy.
particularly requisite to repress and prevent such
daring attempts, for which her subjects from all
parts of the kingdom have shown their just abhor-
rence; she hopes the endeavours of the clergy in
this respect will not be unsuccessful; and, for her
part, is ready to give them all fit encouragement to
proceed in the despatch of such business as properly
belongs. to them, and to grant them powers requisite
to carry on so good a work" in conclusion, "ear-
nestly recommending to them to avoid disputes;
and determining to do all that in her lies to com-
pose and extinguish them.”
It is to be hoped, that this last part of her ma-
jesty's letter will be the first she will please to exe-
cute; for it seems, this very letter created the first
dispute, the fact whereof is thus related :-The upper
house, having formed an address to the queen before
they received her majesty's letter, sent both address
and letter together to the lower house, with a mes-
sage, excusing their not mentioning the letter in the
address; because this was formed before the other
was received. The lower house returned them, with
a desire that an address might be formed with a due
regard and acknowledgments for the letter. After
some difficulties, the same address was sent down
again, with a clause inserted, making some short
mention of the said letter. This the lower house did
not think sufficient, and sent it back again with the
same request; whereupon the archbishop, after a
short consultation with some of his brethren, imme-
diately adjourned the convocation for a month; and
no address at all was sent to the queen.
I understand not ecclesiastical affairs well enough
to comment upon this matter; but it seems to me,
that all methods of doing service to the church and
kingdom, by means of a convocation, may be at any
time eluded, if there be no remedy against such an
incident. And, if this proceeding be agreeable to
the institution, spiritual assemblies must needs be
strangely contrived,
strangely contrived, very different from any lay senate
yet known in the world.
yet known in the world. Surely, from the nature
of such a synod, it must be a very unhappy circum-
stance, when the majority of the bishops draws one
way, and that of the lower clergy another. The
latter, I think, are not at this time suspected, for any
principle bordering upon those professed by enemies
to episcopacy; and if they happen to differ from the
greater part of the present set of bishops, I doubt it
will call some things to mind, that may turn the scale
of general favour on the inferior clergy's side; who,
with a profound duty to her majesty, are perfectly
pleased with the present turn of affairs. Besides,
curious people will be apt to inquire into the dates
of some promotions; to call to mind what designs
were then upon the anvil, and thence make malicious
deductions. Perhaps they will observe the manner
of voting on the bishops' bench, and compare it with
what shall pass in the upper house of convocation.
There is however one comfort, that, under the pre-
sent dispositions of the kingdom, a dislike to the pro-
ceedings of any of their lordships, even to the num-
ber of a majority, will be purely personal, and not
turned to the disadvantage of the order. And for
my part, as I am a true lover of the church, I would
rather find the inclinations of the people favourable
to episcopacy in general, than see a majority of pre-
lates cried up by those who are known enemics to
the character. Nor, indeed, has anything given me
more offence for several years past, than to observe
how some of that bench have been caressed by cer-
tain persons, and others of them openly celebrated
by the infamous pens of atheists, republicans, and
fanatics.
Time and mortality can only remedy these incov-
THE EXAMINER.
313
veniences in the church, which are not to be cured,
like those in the state, by a change of ministry. If
we may guess the temper of a convocation from the
choice of a prolocutor, as it is usual to do that of a
house of commons by the speaker, we may expect
great things from that reverend body, who have done
themselves much reputation, by pitching upon a
gentleman of so much piety, wit, and learning, for
that office, and one who is so thoroughly versed in
those parts of knowledge which are proper for it.
[Atterbury]. I am sorry that the three Latin speeches,
delivered upon, presenting the prolocutor, were not
made public; they might, perhaps, have given us
some light into the disposition of each house ; and
besides one of them is said to be so peculiar in the
style and matter, as might have made up in enter-
tainment what it wanted in instruction.
No. 23.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 4, 1711.
Nullæ sunt occultiores insidiæ, quam eæ, quæ latent in simula-
tione officii, aut in aliquo necessitudinis nomine.
It is extremely difficult to explore those designs which are
conceived under the veil of duty, and lie hid under the pre-
teuce of friendship.
THE following answer is written in the true style,
and with the usual candour of such pieces; which
I have imitated to the best of my skill, and doubt
not but the reader will be extremely satisfied with
it.
The Examiner cross-examined; or, A full Answer to
the last Examiner.
IF I durst be so bold with this author, I would
gladly ask him a familiar question :—Pray, sir, who
made you an examiner? He talks in one of his in-
sipid papers of eight or nine thousand corruptions,
while we were at the head of affairs yet in all this
time he has hardly produced fifty:
•
Parturiunt montes, &c.-HOR,
But I shall confine myself at present to his last
paper. He tells us, the queen began her reign with
a noble benefaction to the church. Here's priest-
craft with a witness! This is the constant language
of your highfliers, to call those who are hired to
teach the religion of the magistrate by the name of
the church. But this is not all; for, in the very next
line, he says, it was hoped the nation would have
followed this example. You see the faction begins al-
ready to speak out; this is an open demand for the
abbey lands. This furious zealot would have us priest-
ridden again, like our popish ancestors; but it is to be
hoped the government will take timely care to suppress
such audacious attempts; else we have spent so much
blood and treasure to very little purpose, in main-
taining religion and the Revolution. But what can
we expect from a man who at one blow endeavours
to ruin our trade? A country, says he, may flourish
these are his own words) without being the common.
receptacle for all nations, religions, and languages.
What! we must immediately banish or murder
the Palatines; forbid all foreign merchants not only
the Exchange but the kingdom; persecute the dis-
senters with fire and fagot; and make it high trea-
son to speak any other tongue but English. In
another place, he talks of a serpent with seven heads,
which is a manifest corruption of the text; for the
words, seven heads, are not mentioned in that verse.
However, we know what serpent he would mean; a
serpent with fourteen legs, or indeed no serpent at
all, but seven great men, who were the best ministers,
the truest protestants, and the most disinterested
patriots that ever served a prince. But nothing is so
inconsistent as this writer. I know not whether to
call him a Whig or a Tory, a protestant or a papist;
he finds fault with convocations; says they are assem-
blies strangely contrived, and yet lays the fault upon
us, that we bound their hands: I wish we could
have bound their tongues too. But, as fast as their
hands were bound, they could make.a shift to hold
their pens, and have their share in the guilt of ruin-
ing the hopefullest party and ministry that ever pre.
scribed to a crown. This captious gentleman is
angry to see a majority of prelates cried up by those
who are enemies to the character; now I always
thought, that the concessions of enemies were more
to a man's advantage than the praise of his friends.
Time and mortality, he says, can only remedy these
inconveniences in the church; that is in other words,
when certain bishops are dead, we shall have others
of our own stamp. Not so fast; you are not yet so
sure of your game. We have already got one com-
fortable loss in Spain, although by a general of our
own; for joy of which our junto had a merry meet-
ing at the house of their great proselyte, on the very
day we received the happy news. One or two more
such blows would perhaps set us right again, and
then we can employ mortality as well as others.
concludes with wishing, that three letters, spoken
when the prolocutor was presented, were made
public. I suppose he would be content with one,
and that is more than we shall humour him to grant.
However, I hope he will allow it possible to have
grace, without either eloquence or Latin, which is all
I shall say to this malicious innuendo.
He
Having thus, I hope, given a full and satisfactory
answer to the Examiner's last paper, I shall now go
on to a more important affair, which is to prove, by
several undeniable instances, that the late ministry
and their abettors were true friends to the church.
It is yet, I confess, a secret to the clergy wherein this
friendship did consist. For information, therefore,
of that reverend body, that they may never forget
their benefactors, as well as of all others who may
be equally ignorant, I have determined to display
our merits to the world upon that weighty article.
And I could wish, that what I am to say were to
be written in brass, for an eternal memorial; the
rather, because for the future the church may en-
deavour to stand
deavour to stand unsupported by those patrons, who
expired in doing it their last good office, and will
never rise to preserve it any more.
Let us, therefore, produce the pious endeavours of
these church defenders, who were its patrons, by
their power and authority, as well as ornaments of
it, by their exemplary lives.
First, St. Paul tells us, there must be heresies in
the church, that the truth may be manifest; and
therefore, by due course of reasoning, the more here-
sies there are, the more manifest will the truth be
made. This being maturely considered by these
lovers of the church, they endeavoured to propagate
as many heresies as they could that the light of truth
might shine the clearer.
Secondly, to show their zeal for the church's de
fence, they took the care of it entirely out of the
hands of God Almighty (because that was a foreign
jurisdiction), and made it their own creature, depend-
ing altogether upon them; and issued out their
orders to Tindal,
orders to Tindal, and others, to give public notice
of it.
Thirdly, because charity is the most celebrated of
all christian virtues, therefore they extended theirs
beyond all bounds; and instead of shutting the
church against dissenters, were ready to open it to alı
comers, and break down its walls, rather than that
any should want room to enter. The strength of a
814
THE EXAM.NER.
to leave the merits of each cause to such wise, im-
partial judges; who might otherwise fall under the
slavery of believing, by education and prejudice.
state we know consists in the number of people, | naticn. Nor could anything be more discreet, than
how different soever in their callings; and why
should not the strength of a church consist in the
same, how different soever in their creeds? For that
reason, they charitably attempted to abolish the test
which tied up so many hauds from getting employ-
ments, in order to protect the church.
I know very well that this attempt is objected to
as a crime by several malignant Tories; and denied
as a slander by many unthinking people among our-
selves. The latter are apt, in their defence, to ask
such questions as these: Was your test repealed?
had we not a majority? might we not have done it,
if we pleased? To which the others answer, You did
what you could you prepared the way, but you
found a fatal impediment from that quarter whence
he sanction of the law must come; and therefore,
to save your credit, you condemnel a paper to be
burnt, which yourselves had brought in. But, alas!
the miscarriage of that noble project for the safety
of the church had another original; the knowledge
whereof depends upon a piece of secret history, which
1 shall now lay open.
These church-protectors had directed a presbyte-
rian preacher to draw up a bill for repealing the test.
It was accordingly done with great art; and in the
preamble, several expressions of civility to the esta-
blished church; and when it came to the qualifica-
tions of all those who were to enter on any office,
the compiler had taken special care to make them
large enough for all christians whatsoever, by tran-
scribing the very words (only formed into an oath)
which quakers are obliged to profess by a former act
of parliament, as I shall here set them down: "I, A.
B., profess faith in God the Father, and in Jesus.
Christ his eternal Son, the true God; and in the
Holy Spirit, one God, blessed for evermore; and do
acknowledge the holy scriptures of the Old and New
Testament to be given by divine inspiratiou." This
bill was carried to the chief leaders, for their appro-
bation, with these terrible words turned into an oath:
what should they do? Those few among them, who
fancied they believed in God, were sure they did not
believe in Christ, or the Holy Spirit, or one syllable
of the Bible; and they were as sure that everybody
knew their opinion in those matters, which, indeed,
they had been always too sincere to disguise; how,
therefore, could they take such an oath as that, with-
out ruining their reputation with Tindal, Toland,
Coward, Collins, Clendon, and all the tribe of free-
thinkers, and so give a scandal to weak unbelievers?
Upon this nice point of honour and conscience, the
matter was hushed, the project for repealing the
test let fall, and the sacrament left as the smaller
evil of the two.
Fourthly, These pillars of the church, because
the harvest was great, and the labourers few, and be-
cause they would ease the bishops from the grievous
trouble of laying on hands, were willing to allow
that power to all men whatsoever, to prevent that
terrible consequence of unchurching those, who
thought a hand from under a cloak as effectual as
from lawn sleeves. And, indeed, what could more
contribute to the advancement of true religion, than
a bill of general naturalization for priesthood?
|
Fifthly, In order to fix religion in the minds of
men, because truth never appears so fair as when
confronted with falsehood, they directed books to be
published, that denied the being of a God, the di-
vinity of the Second and Third Person, the truth of
all revelation, and the immortality of the soul. To
this we owe that great sense of religion, that respect
and kindness of the clergy, and that true love of vir-
tue, so manifest of late years among the youth of our i
Sixthly, Because nothing so much distracts the
thoughts as too great a variety of subjects, therefore
they had kindly prepared a bill to prescribe the
clergy what subjects they should preach upon, and
in what manner, that they might be at no loss; and
this, no doubt, was a proper work for such hands, so
thoroughly versed in the theory and practice of all
Christian duties.
Seventhly, To save trouble and expense to the
clergy, they contrived that convocations should meet
as seldom as possible; and when they were suffered
to assemble, would never allow them to meddle with
any business; because, they said, the office of a
clergyman was enough to take up the whole man.
For the same reason, they were very desirous to ex-
cuse the bishops from sitting in parliament, that they
might be at more leisure to stay at home, and look
after the inferior clergy.
I shall mention at present but one more instance
of their pious zeal for the church. They had some-
where heard the maxim, that Sanguis martyrum est
semen ecclesiæ; therefore, in order to sow this seed,
they began with impeaching a clergyman; and that
it might be a true martyrdom in every circumstance,
they proceeded as much as possible against common
law; which the long-robe part of the managers
knew was in a hundred instances directly contrary
to all their positions, and were sufficiently warned
of it beforehand; but their love of the church pre-
vailed. Neither was this impeachment an affair
taken up on a sudden; for a certain great person,
(whose character has been lately published by some
stupid and lying writer,) who very much distin-
guished himself by his zeal in forwarding this im-
peachment, had several years ago endeavoured to
persuade the late king to give way to just such
another attempt. He told his majesty, there was a
certain clergyman, who preached very dangerous
sermons, and that the only way to put a stop to such
insolence was to impeach him in parliament.
king inquired the character of the man: "O, sir,"
said my lord, “the most violent, hot, positive fellow
in England; so extremely wilful, that, I believe, he
would be heartily glad to be a martyr." The king
answered, "Is it so then I am resolved to disap-
point him;" and would never hear more of the
matter, by which that hopeful project unhappily
miscarried.
The
I have hitherto confined myself to those endea-
vours for the good of the church, which were com-
mon to all the leaders and principal men of our
party; but, if my paper were not drawing toward
an eud, I could produce several instances of particu-
lar persons, who, by their exemplary lives and
actions, have confirmed the character so justly due
to the whole body. I shall at present mention only
two, and illustrate the merits of each by a matter of
fact.
That worthy patriot and true lover of the church,
whom a late Examiner is supposed to reflect on un-
der the name of Verres, felt a pious impulse to be a
benefactor to the cathedral of Gloucester; but how
to do it in the most decent, generous manner, was
the question. At last he thought of an expedient:
one morning, or night, he stole into the church,
mounted upon the altar, and there did that, which,
in cleanly phrase, is called disburdening of nature.
Hea was discovered, prosecuted, and condemned to
pay a thousand pounds; which sum was all em-
• Loid Wharton had been guilty of what is here stated.
I
THE EXAMINER.
315
ployed to support the church, as, no doubt, the
benefactor meant it.
There is another person, whom the same writer is
thought to point at, under the name of Will Bigamy.
This gentleman, knowing that marriage fees were a
cousiderable perquisite to the clergy, found out a
way of improving them cent. per cent. for the good
of the church. His invention was to marry a sec .nd
wife, while the first was alive, convincing her of the
lawiulness by such arguments, as he did not doubt
would make others follow the same example.
These he had drawn up in writing, with an inten-
tion to publish for the general good: and it is hoped
he
may now have leisure to finish them.
No. 24.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 1711.
Bellum ita suscipiatur, ut nihil aliud nisi pax quæsita videatur.
War should be undertaken only with a view to procure a solid
and lasting peace.
I AM satisfied, that no reasonable man of either
party can justly be offended at anything I said in
one of my papers relating to the army. From the
maxims I there laid down, perhaps many persons
may conclude, that I had a mind the world should
think there had been occasion given by some late
abuses among men of that calling; and they con-
clude right for my intention is, that my hints may
be understood, and my quotations and allegories
applied; and I am in some pain to think, that in
the Orcades on one side, and the western coasts of
Ireland on the other, the Examiner may want a key
in several parts, which I wish I could furnish them
with. As to the French king, I am under no con-
cern at all; I hear he has left off reading my papers,
and by what he has found in them, dislikes our pro-
ceedings more than ever; and intends either to
make great additions to his armies, or propose new
terms for a peace.
So false is that which is com-
monly reported, of his mighty satisfaction in our
change of ministry. And I think it clear, that his
late letter of thanks to the Tories of Great Britain
must either have been extorted from him against his
judgment, or was a cast of his politics to set the
people against the present ministry, wherein it has
wonderfully succeeded.
But, though I have never heard, or never re-
garded any objections made against that paper which
mentions the army, yet I intended this as a sort of
apology for it. And first I declare (because we live
in a mistaking world) that at hinting at some pro-
ceedings, wherein a few persons are said to be con-
cerned, I did not intend to charge them upon the
body of the army. I have too much detested that
barbarous injustice among the writers of a late
party to be ever guilty of it myself; I mean, the
accusing of societies for the crimes of a few. On
the other side, I must take leave to believe that
armies are no more exempt from corruptions than
other numbers of men. The maxims proposed were
occasionally introduced by the report of certain facts,
which I am bound to believe are true, because I am
sure, considering what has passed, it would be a
crime to think otherwise. All posts in the army,
all employments at court, and many others, are, or
ought to be, given and resumed at the mere plea-
sure of the prince; yet when I see a great officer
broke, a change made in the court or the ministry.
and this under the most just and gracious princess
that ever reigned, I must naturally conclude, it is
done upon prudent considerations, and for some
great demerit in the sufferers. But then, is not the
punishment sufficient? Is it generous or charitable
to trample on the unfortunate, and expose their
faults to the world in the strongest colours? And
would it not suit better with magnanimity, as well
as common good nature, to leave them at quiet to
their own thoughts and repentance? Yes. without
question; prov.ded it could be so contrived, that
their very names, as well as actious, might be tor-
gotten for ever: such an act of oblivion would be
for the honour of the nation, and beget a better
opinion of us with posterity; and then I might have
spared the world and myself the trouble of examin-
ing. But at present there is a cruel dilemma in the
case; the friends and abettors of the late ministry
are every day publishing their praises to the world,
and casting reflections upon the present persons in
power. This is so barefaced an aspersion upon the
queen, that I know not how any good subject can
with patience endure it, although he were ever so
indifferent with regard to the opinions in dispute.
Shall they, who have lost all power and love of the
people, be allowed to scatter their poison? and shall
not those, who are at least of the strongest side, be
suffered to bring an antidote? And how can we
undeceive the deluded remainder, but by letting
them see that these discarded statesmen were justly
laid aside; and producing as many instances to
prove it as we can, not fro n any personal hatred to
them, but in justification to the best of queens. The
many scurrilities I have heard and read against this
poor paper of mine are in such a strain, that, con-
sidering the present state of affairs, they look like a
jest. They usually run after the following manner:
"What! Shall this insolent writer presume to cen-
sure the late ministry, the ablest, the most faithful,
and truest lovers of their country and its constitu-
tion, that ever served a prince? Shall he reflect on
the best house of commons that ever sat within
those walls? Has not the queen changed both, for
a ministry and parliament of Jacobites and high-
fliers, who are selling us to France, and bringing
over the pretender ?" This is the very sum and
force of all their reasonings, and this is their method
of complaining against the Examiner. In them, it
is humble and loyal to reflect upon the queen, and
the ministry and parliament she has chosen with the
universal applause of her people; in us, it is inso-
lent to defend her majesty and her choice, or to an-
swer their objections, by showing the reasons why
those changes were necessary.
The same style has been used in the late case
concerning some gentlemen in the army. Such a
clamour was raised by a set of men, who had the
boldness to tax the administration with cruelty and
injustice, that I thought it necessary to interfere a
little, by showing the ill consequences that might
arise from some proceedings, although without ap-
plication to particular persons.
plication to particular persons. And what do they
offer in answer? Nothing but a few poor common-
places against calumny and informers, which might
have been full as just and seasonable in a plot against
the sacred person of the queen.
But by the way, why are these idle people so indis-
creet to name those two words, which afford occasion
of laying open to the world such an infamous scene
of subornation and perjury, as well as calumny and
informing, as I believe is without example; when a
whole cabal attempted an action, wherein a con-
demned criminal [Greg] refused to join with them
for the reward of his life? Not that I disapprove
their sagacity who could foretell so long before y
what hand they should one day fall, and therefore
thought any means justifiable by which they might
prevent it.
But waving this at present, it must be owned in
316
THE EXAMINER.
Justice to the army, that those violences did not pro-
ceed so far among them as some have believed; nor
ought the madness of a few to be laid at their doors.
For the rest, I am so far from denying the due
praises to those brave troops who did their part in
procuring so many victories for the allies, that I
could wish every officer and private soldier had their
full share of honour, in proportion to their deserts;
being thus far of the Athenians' mind, who when it
was proposed that the statue of Miltiades should be
set up alone in some public place of the city, said,
they would agree to it, whenever he conquered
alone, but not before. Neither do I at all blame
the officers of the army for preferring in their hearts
the late ministry before the present, or, if wishing
alone could be of any use for wishing their con-
tinuance, because then they might be secure of the
war's continuance too; whereas, siuce affairs have
been put into other hands, they may perhaps lie
under some apprehensions of a peace, which no
army, especially in the course of success, was
inclined to, and which all wise states have in such
a juncture chiefly endeavoured. This is a point,
wherein the civil and military politics have always
disagreed, and for that reason I affirmed it necessary,
in all free governments, that the latter should be ab-
solutely in subjection to the former, otherwise one
of these two inconveniences must arise, either to be
perpetually in war, or to turn the civil institution
into a military.
I am ready to allow all that has been said of the
valour and experience of our troops, who have fully
contributed their part to the great successes abroad;
nor is it their fault that those important victories had
no better consequences at home, though it may be
their advantage. War is their trade and business; to
improve and cultivate the advantages of success is
an affair of the cabinet; and the neglect of this,
whether proceeding from weakness or corruption,
according to the usual uncertainty of wars, may be
of the most fatal consequence to a nation. For,
pray let me represent our condition in such a light,
as I believe both parties will allow, though perhaps
not the consequences I shall deduce from it. We
have been for above nine years blessed with a queen,
who, beside all virtues that can enter into the com-
position of a private person, possesses every regal
quality that can contribute to make a people happy;
of great wisdom, yet ready to receive the advice of
her counsellors; of much discernment in choosing
proper instruments, when she follows her own judg-
ment; and only capable of being deceived by that
excess of goodness which makes her judge of others
by herself; frugal in her management, in order to
contribute to the public, which in proportion she
does, and that voluntarily, beyond any of her sub-
jects; but from her own nature generous and cha-
ritable to all who want or deserve; and in order to
exercise those virtues, denying herself all entertain-
ments of expense which many others enjoy. Then,
if we look abroad, at least in Flanders, our arms
have been crowned with perpetual success in battles
and sieges, not to mention several fortunate actions.
in Spain. These facts being thus stated, which
none can deny, it is natural to ask, how we have
improved such advantages, and to what account they
have turned? I shall use no discouraging terms.
When a patient grows daily worse by the tampering
of mountebanks, there is nothing left but to call in
the best physicians, before the case grows desperate.
But I would ask whether France, or any other king-
dom, would have made so little use of such pro-
digious opportunities the fruits whereof could never
have fallen to the ground without the extremest
|
degree of folly and corruption; and where those
have lain, let the world judge. Instead of aiming at
peace, while we had the advantage of the war,
which has been the perpetual maxim of ail wise
states, it has been reckoned factious and malignant
even to express our wishes for it; and such a con-
dition imposed, as was never offered to any prince
who had an inch of ground to dispute; quæ enim
est conditio pacis, in qua ei, cum quo pacem facias,
nihil concedi potest?
It is not obvious to conceive what could move
men, who sat at home, and were called to consult
upon the good of the kingdom, to be so utterly averse
from putting an end to a long, expensive war, which
the victorious, as well as conquered side, were heartily
weary of Few, or none of them, were men of the
sword; they had no share in the honour; they had
made large fortunes, and were at the head of all affairs.
But they well knew by what tenure they held their
power; that the queen saw through their designs;
that they had entirely lost the hearts of the clergy;
that the landed men were against them; that they
were detested by the body of the people; and that
nothing bore them up but their credit with the bank,
and other stocks, which would be neither formidable
nor necessary when the war was at an end. For
these reasons, they resolved to disappoint all over-
tures of a peace, until they and their party should be
so deeply rooted, as to make it impossible to shake
them. To this end they began to precipitate matters
so fast, as in a little time must have ruined the con-
stitution, if the crown had not interposed, and rather
ventured the accidental effects of their malice than
such dreadful consequences of their power. And,
indeed, if the former danger had been greater than
some hoped or feared, I see no difficulty in the
choice, which was the same with his, who said he
would rather be devoured by wolves than by rats.
I therefore still insist, that we cannot wonder at, or
find fault with the army for concurring with the
ministry, which was for prolonging the war. The
inclination is natural in them all; pardonable in
those who have not yet made their fortunes; and as
lawful in the rest as love of power or love of money
can make it. But, as natural, as pardonable, and
as lawful as this inclination is, when it is not under
check of the civil power, or when a corrupt ministry
joins in giving it too great a scope, the consequence
can be nothing less than infallible ruin and slavery
to the state.
After I had finished this paper the printer sent
me two small pamphlets, called "The Management
of the War;" written with some plausibility, much
artifice, and abundance of misrepresentations, as
well as direct falsehoods in point of fact.
have thought worth examining, which I shall ac-
cordingly do, when I find an opportunity.
No. 25.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 18, 1711.
These I
Parva momenta in spem metumque impellunt animos,
The merest trifles influence the human mind, and impel it to
hope or fear.
HOPES are natural to most men, especially to san-
guine complexions, and among the various changes
that happen in the course of public affairs, they are
seldom without some grounds. Even in desperate
cases, where it is impossible they should have any
foundation, they are often affected to keep a coun-
tenance, and make an enemy think we have some
resource which they know nothing of. This appears
to have been for several months past the condition
of those people, whom I am forced for want of other
THE EXAMINER.
317
phrases to call the ruined party. They have taken |
up since their fall some real, and some pretended |
hopes. When the earl of Sunderland was discarded,
they hoped her majesty would proceed no further
in the change of her ministry, and had the insolence
to misrepresent her words to foreign states. They
hoped nobody durst advise the dissolution of the
parliament. When this was done, and further al-
terations made in court, they hoped, and endea-
roured to ruin the credit of the nation. They
likewise hoped that we should have some terrible
oss abroad, which would force us to unravel all, and
begin again upon their bottom. But, of all their
hopes, whether real or assumed, there is none more
extraordinary than that in which they now would
seem to place their whole confidence: that this great
turn of affairs was only occasioned by a short mad-
ness of the people, from which they will recover in a
little time, when their eyes are open, and they grow
cool and sober enough to consider the truth of things,
and how much they have been deceived. It is not
improbable, that some few of the deepest sighted
anong these reasoners are well enough convinced
how vain all such hopes must be; but for the rest,
the wisest of them seem to have been very ill judges
of the people's dispositions, the want of which
knowledge was a principal occasion to hasten their
ruin; for surely, had they suspected which way the
popular current inclined, they never would have
run against it by that impeachment. I therefore
conclude, they generally are so blind as to imagine
some comfort from this fantastical opinion, that the
people of England are at present distracted, but
will shortly come to their senses again.
For the service therefore of our adversaries and
friends I shall briefly examine this point, by showing
what are the causes and symptoms of a people's
madness, and how it differs from their natural bent
and inclination.
It is Machiavel's observation, that the people
when left to their own judgment do seldom mistake
their true interests; and indeed they naturally love
the constitution they are born under; never desiring
to change, but under great oppressions. However,
they are to be deceived by several means. It has
often happened in Greece, and sometimes in Rome,
that those very men who have contributed to shake
off a former tyranny, have, instead of restoring the
old constitution, deluded the people into a worse
and more ignominious slavery. Besides, all great
changes have the same effects upon commonwealths
that thunder has upon liquors, making the dregs fly
up to the top; the lowest plebeians rise to the head
of affairs, and these preserve themselves, by repre-
senting the nobles, and other friends to the old
government, as enemies to the public. The en-
couraging of new mysteries and new deities, with
the pretences of further purity in religion, has like-
wise been a frequent topic to mislead the people.
And, not to mention more, the promoting false re-
ports of dangers from abroad has often served to
prevent them from fencing against real dangers at
home. By these and the like arts, in conjunction
with a great depravity of manners, and a weak or
corrupt administration, the madness of the people
has risen to such a height as to break in pieces the
whole frame of the best instituted governments.
But, however, such great frenzies being artificially
raised are a perfect force and constraint upon human
nature; and, under a wise steady prince, will cer
tainly decline of themselves, settling like the sea
after a storm; and then the true bent and genius of
the people will appear. Ancient and modern story
are full of instances to illustrate what I say.
|
In our own island we had a great example of a
long madness in the people, kept up by a thousand
artifices, like intoxicating medicines, until the con-
stitution was destroyed; yet the malignity being
spent, and the humour exhausted that served to
foment it, before the usurpers could fix upon a new
scheme, the people suddenly recovered and peace-
ably restored the old constitution.
From what I have offered, it will be easy to decide
whether this late change in the disposition of the
people was a new madness, or a recovery from an
old one. Neither do I see how it can be proved
that such a change had, in any circumstance, the
least symptom of madness, whether my description
of it be right or not. It is agreed that the truest
way of judging the disposition of the people, in the
choice of their representatives, is by computing the
county elections; and in these it is manifest, that
five in six are entirely for the present measures;
although the court was so far from interposing its
credit, that there was no change in the admiralty,
not above one or two in the lieutenancy, nor any
other methods used to influence elections. The
free, unextorted addresses, sent some time before
from every part of the kingdom, plainly showed what
sort of bent the people had taken, and from what
motives. The election of members for this great
city, carried contrary to all conjecture against the
united interest of those two great bodies, the Bank
and East India Company, was another convincing
argument. Besides, the Whigs themselves have
always confessed that the bulk of landed men in
England was generally of Tories. So that this
change must be allowed to be according to the
natural genius and disposition of the people;
whether it were just and
whether it were just and reasonable in itself or
not.
Notwithstanding all which, you shall frequently
hear the partisans of the late men in power gravely
and decisively pronounce, that the present ministry
cannot possibly stand. Now they who affirm this,
if they believe themselves, must ground their opinion
upon the iniquity of the last being so far established
and deeply rooted, that no endeavours of honest
men will be able to restore things to their former
state; or else these reasoners have been so misled
by twenty years' mismanagement that they have
forgot our constitution, and talk as if our monarchy
and revolution began together. But the body of the
people is wiser; and, by the choice they bave made,
show they do understand our constitution, and
would bring it back to the old form; which, if the
new ministers take care to maintain, they will and
ought to stand; otherwise, they may fall like their
predecessors. But I think we may easily foresee
what a parliament, freely chosen, without threaten-
ing or corruption, is likely to do, when no man
should be in any danger to lose his place by the
freedom of his voice.
But, who are the advancers of this opinion that
the present ministry cannot hold? It must be either
such as are afraid to be called to an account in case
it should hold, or those who keep offices from which
others better qualified were removed, and may rea-
sonably apprehend to be turned out for worthier
men to come into their places; since perhaps it will
be necessary to make some changes that the public
business of the nation may go on: or lastly, stock-
jobbers, who industriously spread such reports, that
actions [stocks] may fall, and their friends buy to
advantage.
Yet these hopes, thus freely expressed, as they
are more sincere, so they are more supportable than
when they appear under the disguise and pretence
818
THE EXAMINER.
of fears. Some of these gentlemen are employed to
shake their heads in proper companies; to doubt
where all this will end; to be in mighty pain for the
nation; to show how impossible it is that the public
credit can be supported; to pray that all may
do
well, in whatever hands; but very much to doubt
that the pretender is at the bottom. I know not
anything so nearly resembling this behaviour as
what I have often seen among the friends of a sick
man whose interest it is that he should die. The
physicians protest they see no danger, the symptoms
are good, the medicines answer expectation; yet still
they are not to be comforted; they whisper he is a
gone man, it is not possible he should hold out; he
has perfect death in his face; they never liked his
doctor. At last the patient recovers, and their joy
is as false as their grief.
I believe there is no man so sanguine who did not |
apprehend some ill consequences from the late
change, though not in any proportion to the good
ones; but it is manifest the former have proved
much fewer and lighter than were expected, either
at home or abroad, by the fears of our friends or the
hopes of our enemies. Those remedies that stir the
humours in a diseased body are at first more painful
than the malady itself, yet certain death is the con-
sequence of deferring them too long. Actions have
fallen, and the loans are said to come in slowly.
But, beside that something of this must have been,
whether there had been any change or not; beside,
that the surprise of every change, for the better as
well as the worse, is apt to affect credit for a while;
there is a further reason, which is plain and scanda-
lous. When the late party was at the helm, those
who were called the Tories never put their resent-
ments in balance with the safety of the nation, but
cheerfully contributed to the common cause: now
the scene is changed, the fallen party seems to act
from very different motives; they have given the
word about, they will keep their money and be pas-
sive, and in this point stand upon the same foot with
papists and nonjurors. What would have become
of the public if the present great majority had acted
thus during the late administration, before the others
were masters of that wealth they have squeezed out
of the landed men, and with the strength of which
they would now hold the kingdom at defiance?
Thus much I have thought fit to say, without
pointing reflections upon any particular person,
which I have hitherto but sparingly done, and that
only toward those whose characters are too profligate
for the managing of them to be of any consequence.
Beside, as it is a talent I am not naturally fond of,
60,
in the subjects I treat, it is generally needless.
If I display the effects of avarice and ambition, of
bribery and corruption, of gross immorality and
irreligion; those who are the least conversant in
things will easily know where to apply them. Not
that I lay any weight upon the objections of such
who charge me with this proceeding: it is notorious
enough that the writers of the other side were the
first aggressors. Not to mention their scurrilous
libels, many years ago, directly levelled at particular
persons, how many papers do now come out every
week full of rade invectives against the present
ministry, with the first and last letters of their
names, to prevent mistakes! It is good sometimes
to let these people see that we neither want spirit
nor materials to retaliate: and therefore in this
point alone I shall follow their example whenever I
find myself sufficiently provoked; only with one
addition, that whatever charges I bring, either
general or particular, shall be religiously true,
founded either upon avowed facts which none can
deny, or such as I can prove from my own know.
ledge.
Being resolved publicly to confess any mistakes
I have been guilty of, I do hereby humbly desire
the reader's pardon for one of mighty importance
about a fact in one of my papers said to be done in
the cathedral of Gloucester. A whole Hydra of
errors in two words! For, as I am since informed,
it was neither in the cathedral, nor city, nor county
of Gloucester, but some other church of that din
cese. If I had ever met any other objection of equal
weight, although from the meanest hands, I shoula
certainly have answered it.
No. 26.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 1711.
Διαλεξάμενοί τινα ἡσυχῆ, τὸ μὲν συμπαν ἐπί τε τῆ δυναστεία
καὶ κατὰ τῶν ἐχθρῶν συνώμοσαν.
Summissa quædam voce collocuti sunt, quorum,summa erat de
dominatione sibi confirmanda, ac inimicis delendis, conjuratio.
They meet, they whisper together, and their whole design is to
establish themselves in their ill-gotten power upon the ruin
of their enemies.
Nor many days ago I observed a knot of discontented
gentlemen cursing the Tories to hell for their un-
charitableness in affirming that if the late ministry
had continued to this time, we should have had
neither church nor monarchy left. They are usually
so candid as to call that the opinion of the party
which they hear in a coffeehouse, or over a bottle,
from some warm young people, whom it is odds but
they have provoked to say more than they believed,
by some positions as absurd and ridiculous of their
own. And so it proved in this very instance; for,
asking one of these gentlemen what it was that pro-
voked those he had been disputing with to advance
such a paradox, he assured me, in a very calm man-
ner, it was nothing in the world but that himself,
and some others of the company, had made it ap
pear that the design of the present parliament and
ministry was to bring in popery, arbitrary power, and
the pretender; which I take to be an opinion fifty
times more improbable, as well as more uncharitable,
than what is charged upon the Whigs; because I defy
our adversaries to produce one single reason for sus-
pecting such designs in the persons now at the
helm; whereas I can, upon demand, produce twenty
to show that some late men had strong views toward
a commonwealth, and the alteration of the church.
I can
It is natural, indeed, when a storm is over, that
has only untiled our houses, and blown down some
of our chimneys, to consider what further mischiefs
might have ensued if it had lasted longer. How-
ever, in the present case, I am not of the opinion
above mentioned. I believe the church and state
might have lasted somewhat longer, although the
late enemies to both had done their worst.
hardly conceive how things would have been so
soon ripe for a new revolution. I am convinced
that if they had offered to make such large and sud-
den strides, it must have come to blows; and ac-
cording to the computation, we have now reason to
think a right one, I can partly guess what would
have been the issue. Besides, we are sure the
queen would have interposed before they came to
extremities; and as little as they regarded the regal
authority, would have been a check in their career.
But instead of this question, what would have
been the consequence if the late ministry had con-
tinued? I will propose another, which will be more
useful for us to consider; and that is, what may we
reasonably expect they will do if ever they come
into power again? This we know is the design and
THE EXAMINER.
319
endeavour of all those scribblers which daily fly
about in their favour; of all the false, insolent, and
scandalous libels against the present administration,
and of all those engines set at work to sink the ac-
tions and blow up the public credit. As for those
who show their inclinations by writing, there is one
consideration which I wonder does not sometimes
affect them; for how can they forbear having a good
opinion of the gentleness and inuocence of those
who permit them to employ their pens as they do?
It puts me in mind of an insolent pragmatical orator
somewhere in Greece, who, railing with great
freedom at the chief men in the state, was answered
by one who had been very instrumental in recover-
ing the liberty of the city, that he thanked the gods
they had now arrived to the condition he always
wished them in, when every man in that city might
securely say what he pleased. I wish these gentle-
men would, however, compare the liberty they take
with what their masters used to give; how many
messengers and warrants would have gone out
against any who durst have opened their lips, cr
drawn their pens against the persons and proceed-
ings of their juntoes and cabals? How would their
weekly writers have been calling out for prosecution
and punishment? We remember when a poor
nickname,ª borrowed from an old play of Ben
Jonson, and mentioned in a sermon without any
particular application, was made use of as a motive.
to spur on an impeachment. But after all it must
be confessed they had reasons to be thus severe,
which their successors have not: their faults would
never endure the light; and to have exposed them
sooner would have raised the kingdom against the
actors before the proper time.
But to come to the subject I have now under-
taken, which is, to examine what the consequences
would be upon supposition that the Whigs were
now restored to their power. I already imagine the
present free parliament dissolved, and another of a
different epithet met, by the force of money and
management. I read immediately a dozen or two
of stinging votes against the proceedings of the late
ministry. The bill now to be repealed would then
be re-enacted, and the birthright of an Englishman
reduced again to the value of twelvepence. But, to
give the reader a strong imagination of such a scene,
let me represent the designs of some men, lately
er deavoured and projected, in the form of a paper
of votes.
"Ordered, That a bill be brought in for repealing
the sacramental test.
"A petition of Tindal, Collins, Clendon, Coward, |
and Toland, in behalf of themselves and many hun-
dreds of their disciples, some of whom are members
of this honourable house, desiring that leave may
be given to bring in a bill for qualifying atheists,
deists, and Socinians, to serve their country in any
employment, ecclesiastical, civil, or military.
"Ordered, That leave be given to bring in a bill
according to the prayer of the said petition; and
that Mr. Lechmere do prepare and bring in the
same.
"Ordered, That a bill be brought in for removing
the education of youth out of the hands of the
clergy.
"Another to forbid the clergy preaching certain
duties in religion; especially obedience to princes.
"Another to take away the jurisdiction of bishops.,
"Another for constituting a general for life; with
In Dr. Sacheverel's sermou Godolphin bears the nick-name
of Volpone.
A bill for a general naturalization.
One of the managers against Dr. Sacheverel, who summed
up the evidence,
instructions to the committee that care may be taken
to make the war last as long as the life of the said
general.
a
"A bill of attainder against Charles duke of
Shrewsbury, John duke of Buckingham, Laurence
earl of Rochester, sir Simon Harcourt, knight,
Robert Harley and William Shippen, esqrs., Abigail
Masham, spinster, and others, for high treason
against the junto.
Resolved, That Sarah duchess of Marlborough
has been a most dutiful, just, and grateful servant to
her majesty.
"Resolved, That to advise the dissolution of a
Whig parliament or the removal of a Whig ministry,
was in order to bring in popery and the pretender;
and that the said advice was high treason.
CC
Resolved, That by the original compact the
government of this realm is by a junto, and a king,
or queen; but the administration solely in the
junto.
"Ordered, That a bill be brought in for further
limiting the prerogative.
"Ordered, That it be a standing order of this
house that the merit of elections be not determined
by the number of voices, or right of electors, but by
weight; and that one Whig shall weigh down ten
Tories.
"A motion being made, and the question being
put, that when a Whig is detected of manifest bribery,
and his competitor, being a Tory, has ten to one a
majority, there shall be a new election; it passed in
the negative.
"Resolved, That for a king or queen of this
realm to read or examine a paper brought them to
be signed by a junto minister is arbitrary and illegal,
and a violation of the liberties of the people.”
These, and the like reformations, would, in all
probability, be the first fruits of the Whigs' resur-
rection; and what structures such able artists might
in a short time build upon such foundations, I leave
others to conjecture. All hopes of a peace cut off;
the nation industriously involved in further debts,
to a degree that none would dare undertake the
management of affairs but those whose interest lay
in ruining the constitution: I do not see how the
wisest prince, under such necessities, could be
able to extricate himself. Then as to the church:
the bishops would by degrees be dismissed, first from
the parliament, next from their revenues, and at last
from their office; and the clergy, instead of their
idle claim of independency on the state, would be
forced to depend for their daily bread on every in-
dividual. But what system of future government
was designed, whether it were already digested, or
would have been left for time and incidents to mature,
I shall not now examine. Only upon this occasion
I cannot help reflecting on a fact which it is pro-
bable the reader knows as well as myself. There
was a picture drawn some time ago representing
sive persons, as large as the life, sitting in council
together, like a pentarchy; a void space was left for
the sixth, which was to have been the queen, to
whom they intended that honour; but her majesty
having since fallen under their displeasure, they
have made a shift to crowd in two better friends in
her place, which makes it a complete heptarchy.
This piece is now in the country, reserved until
better times, and hangs in the hall among the pic-
tures of Cromwell, Bradshaw, Ireton, and some
other predecessors.
I must now desire leave to say something to a
gentleman who has been pleased to publish a dis-
course against a paper of mine, relating to the cor
• Altered afterwards to James duke of Ormond.
320
THE EXAMINER.
No. 27.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1711.
Ea autem est gloria, laus recte factorum, magnorumque in rem-
publicam meritorum: quæ cum optimi cujusque, tum etiam
multitudinis, testimonio comprobatur.
That is real honour and true praise for glorious acnons to a
meritorious state, when they gain the commendation and
esteem of the great, and, at the same time, the love and ap
probation of the common people.
I AM thinking what a mighty advantage it is to be
entertained as a writer to a ruined cause. I remem
ber a fanatic preacher, who was inclined to come
into the church and take orders: but, upon mature
thoughts, was diverted from that design, when he
considered, that the collections of the godly were
a much heartier and readier penny than he could
get by wrangling for tithes. He certainly had rea-
son; and the two cases are parallel. If you write
in defence of a fallen party you are maintained by
contribution, as a necessary person: you have little
more to do than to carp and cavil at those who hold
the pen on the other side; you are sure to be cele-
brated and caressed by all your party, to a man: you
may affirm and deny what you please without truth
or probability, since it is but loss of time to contra-
dict you. Besides, commiseration is often on your
side; and you have a pretence to be thought houest
and disinterested for adhering to friends in distress:
after which, if your friends ever happen to turn up
again, you have a strong fund of merit toward mak-
ing your fortune. Then, you never fail to be well
furnished with materials, every one bringing in his
quota, and falsehood being naturally more plentiful
than truth: not to mention the wonderful delight of
libelling men in power and hugging yourself in a
corner with mighty satisfaction for what you have
done.
vocation. He promises to set me right without any
undue reflections, or indecent language. I suppose
he means, in comparison with others who pretend
to answer the Examiner. So far he is right; but
if he thinks he has behaved himself as becomes a
candid antagonist, I believe he is mistaken. He
says, in his title-page, my representations are unfair
and my reflections unjust: and his conclusion is
yet more severe: where he doubts I and my friends.
are enraged against the Dutch, because they pre-
served us from popery and arbitrary power at the
Revolution; and, since that time, from being over-
run by the exorbitant power of France, and becom-
ing a prey to the pretender. Because this author
seems in general to write with an honest meaning, I
would seriously put to him the question, Whether
he thinks I and my friends are for popery, arbitrary
power, France, and the pretender? I omit other
instances of smaller moment, which, however, do
not suit, in my opinion, with due reflection or de-
cent language. The fact relating to the convoca-
tion came from a good hand; and I do not find this
author differs from me in any material circumstance
about it. My reflections were no more than what
might be obvious to any other gentleman who had
heard of their late proceedings. If the notion be
right which this author gives us of a lower house of
convocation, it is a very melancholy one; aud to me
seems utterly inconsistent with that of a body of
men, whom he owns to have a negative; and, there-
fore, since a great majority of the clergy differs from
him in several points he advances I shall rather
choose to be of their opinion than his. I faucy
when the whole synod met in one house, as this
writer affirms, they were upon a better foot with
their bishops; and, therefore, whether this treat-
ment, so extremely de haut en bas, since their exclu-
sion, be suitable to primitive custom or primitive
humility toward brethren, is not my business to in-
quire. One may allow the divine or apostolic right
of episcopacy, and its great superiority over presby-
ters, and yet dispute the methods of exercising the
latter, which, being of human institution, are sub-
ject to encroachments and usurpations. I know
every clergyman in a diocese has a great deal of
dependence upon his bishop, and owes him canoni-having our pretences allowed, either to a place or a
cal obedience: but I was apt to think, that when
the whole representative of the clergy met in a
synod, they were considered in another light; at
feast since they are allowed to have a negative. If
I am mistaken, I desire to be excused, as talking out
of my trade; only there is one thing wherein I en-
tirely differ from this author: since, in the disputes
about privileges, one side must recede; where so
very few privileges remain, it is a hundred to one
od is, that he encroachments are not on the infe-
rior clery's side; and no man can blame them for
insisting on the small number that is left. There is
one fact wherein I must take occasion to set this
author right that the person [earl of Oxford, lord-
treasurer] who first moved the queen to remit the
first-fruits and tenths to the clergy, was an eminent
instrument in the late turn of affairs; and, I am
told, has lately prevailed to have the same favour
granted for the clergy of Ireland.ª
But I must beg leave to inform this author, that
my paper is not intended for the management of
controversy; which would be of very little import
to most readers, and only mispend time that I would
For where it is
gladly employ to better purposes.
a man's business to entertain a whole roomful, it is
unmannerly to apply himself to a particular person,
and turn his back upon the rest of the company.
• This was done by the solicitation of Swift.
It is quite otherwise with us, who engage as vo-
lunteers in the service of a flourishing ministry, in
full credit with the queen, and beloved by the peo-
ple; because they have no sinister ends or dangerous
designs, but pursue with steadiness and resolution
the true interest of both. Upon which account
they little want or desire our assistance; and we
may write till the world is weary of reading, without`
up
The de-
pension: besides, we are refused the common bene-
fit of the party, to have our works cried of
course; the readers of our own side being as ungen-
tle and hard to please as if we writ against them:
and our papers never make their way in the world,
but barely in proportion to their merit.
sign of their labours who write on the conquered
side is likewise of greater importance than ours:
they are like cordials for dying men, which must be
repeated; whereas ours are, in the Scripture phrase,
but meat for babes: at least, all I can pretend is,
to undeceive the ignorant and those at a distance;
but their task is to keep up the sinking spirits of a
whole party.
After such reflections I cannot be angry with those
gentlemen for perpetually writing against me; it
furnishes them largely with topics, and is, besides,
their proper business; neither is it affectation or
altogether scorn, that I do not reply. But as things.
are we both act suitably to our several provinces;
mine is, by laying open some corruptions in the late
management, to set those that are ignorant right in
their opinions of persons and things: it is theirs to
cover with fig-leaves all the faults of their friends,
When I have produced my
as well as they can.
facts, and offered my arguments, I have nothing fur-
ther to advance; it is their office to deny and dis-
and then let the world decide. If I were as
prove
THE EXAMINER.
321
f
they, my chief endeavour should certainly be to
batter down the Examiner; therefore I cannot but
approve their design. Besides, they have another
reason for barking incessantly at this paper: they
have in their prints openly taxed a most ingenious
person as author of it; one who is in great and very
deserved reputation with the world, both on account
of his poetical works and his talents for public busi-
ness. They were wise enough to consider what a
sanction it would give their performances to fall
under the animadversion of such a pen; and there-
fore used all the forms of provocation commonly
practised by little obscure pedants, who are fond of
distinguishing themselves by the fame of an adver-
sary. So nice a taste have these judicious critics in
pretending to discover an author by his style and
manner of thinking! not to mention the justice and
candour of exhausting all the stale topics of scur-
rility in reviling a paper, and then flinging, at a
venture, the whole load upon one who is entirely
innocent; and whose greatest fault, perhaps, is too
much gentleness toward a party from whose leaders
he has received quite contrary treatment.
The concern I have for the ease and reputation of
so deserving a gentleman has at length forced me,
much against my interest and inclination, to let these
angry people know who is not the author of the
Examiner. For I observed the opinion began to
spread, and I chose rather to sacrifice the honour I
received by it than let injudicious people entitle
him to a performance that, perhaps, he might have
reason to be ashamed of; still faithfully promising
never to disturb those worthy advocates, but suffer
them in quiet to roar on at the Examiner, if they
or their party find any ease in it, as physicians say
there is to people in torment, such as men in the
gout, or women in labour.
However, I must acknowledge myself indebted
to them for one hint, which I shall now pursue,
although in a different manner. Since the fall of
the late ministry, I have seen many papers filled
with their encomiums, I conceive, in imitation of
those who write the lives of famous men, where,
after their deaths, immediately follow their charac-
ters. When I saw the poor virtues thus dealt at
random, I thought the disposers had flung their
names, like valentines, into a hat, to be drawn as
fortune pleased by the junto and their friends.
There Crassus drew liberty and gratitude; Fulvia,
humility and gentleness; Clodius, piety and justice;
Gracchus, loyalty to his prince; Cinna, love of his
country and constitution; and so of the rest.
Or,
to quit this allegory, I have often seen, of late.
the whole set of discarded statesmen celebrated by
their judicious hirelings for those very qualities
which their admirers owned they chiefly wanted.
Did these heroes put off and lock up their virtues
when they came into employment; and have they
now resumed them since their dismissions? If they
wore them, I am sure it was under their greatness,
and without ever once convincing the world of their
visibility or influence.
But why should not the present ministry find
pen to praise them, as well as the last? This is
what I shall now undertake; and it may be more
impartial in me, from whom they have deserved so
little. I have without being called served them half
a year in quality of champion; and, by help of the
queen, and a majority of nine in ten of the king-
dom, have been able to protect them against a routed
cabal of hated politicians, with a dozen of scribblers
at their head; yet so far have they been from re-
warding me suitably to my deserts, that to this day
they never so much as sent to the printer to inquire
VOL. I.
|
who I was, although I have known a time and mi-
nistry where a person of half my merit and con-
sideration would have had fifty promises, and in the
mean time a pension settled on him, whereof the
first quarter should be honestly paid. Therefore,
my resentments shall so far prevail, that in praising
those who are now at the head of affairs, I shall, at
the same time, take notice of their defects.
Was any man more eminent in his profession than
the present lord-keeper,a or more distinguished by
his eloquence and great abilities in the house of
commons? and will not his enemies allow him to be
But
fully equal to the great station he now adorns?
then it must be granted that he is wholly ignorant in
the speculative as well as practical part of polygamy;
he knows not how to metamorphose a sober man
into a lunatic; he is no freethinker in religion, nor
has courage to be patron of an atheistical book,
while he is guardian of the queen's conscience.
Although, after all, to speak my private opinion, I
cannot think these such mighty objections to his
character as some would pretend.
The person who now presides at the council is
descended from a great and honourable father, not
from the dregs of the people; he was at the head of
the treasury for some years, and rather chose to
enrich his prince than himself. In the height of
favour and credit, he sacrificed the greatest employ-
ment in the kingdom to his conscience and honour;
he has been always firm in his loyalty and religion,
zealous for supporting the prerogative of the crown.
and preserving the liberties of the people. But then
his best friends must own that he is neither Deist
nor Socinian; he has never conversed with Toland
to open and enlarge his thoughts, and dispel the
prejudices of education; nor was he ever able to
arrive at that perfection of gallantry, to ruin and
| imprison the husband, in order to keep the wife
without disturbance.
The present lord-steward has been always dis-
tinguished for his wit and knowledge, is of consum-
mate wisdom and experience in affairs, has con-
tinued constant to the true interest of the nation,
which he espoused from the beginning, and is every
way qualified to support the dignity of his office;
but in point of oratory must give place to his pre-
decessor.
The duke of Shrewsbury d was highly instrumental
in bringing about the Revolution, in which service
he freely exposed his life and fortune. He has ever
been the favourite of the nation, being possessed of
all the amiable qualities that can accomplish a great
man; but in the agreeableness and fragrancy of his
person, and the profoundness of his politics, must
be allowed to
be allowed to fall very short of
Mr. Harley had the honour of being chosen
speaker successively to three parliaments. He was
the first, of late years, who ventured to restore the
forgotten custom of treating his prince with duty
and respect; easy and disengaged in private con-
versation, with such a weight of affairs upon his
shoulders; of great learning, and as great a favourer
and protector of it; intrepid by nature as well as by
the consciousness of his own integrity; and a de-
spiser of money, pursuing the true interest of his
prince and country against all obstacles; sagacious
to view into the remotest consequences of things,
* Sir Simon (afterwards lord) Harcourt.
Laurence Hyde, late earl of Rochester.
• John Sheffield, duke of Buckingham and Normanby, in the
room of the duke of Devousine,
d Lord-chamberlain, in the room of Henry de Grey, earl,
marquis, and duke of Kent.
e Chancellor of the exchequer, upon the removal of lord
Godolphin.
Y
322
THE EXAMINER.
by which all difficulties fly before him; a firm friend,
and a placable enemy, sacrificing his justest resent-
ments not only to public good, but to common in-
tercession and acknowledgment. Yet, with all these
virtues, it must be granted there is some mixture of
human infirmity. His greatest admirers must confess
his skill at cards and dice to be very low and super-
ficial; in horse-racing he is utterly ignorant; then,
to save a few millions to the public, he never regards
how many worthy citizens he hinders from making
up their plumb. And surely there is one thing never
to be forgiven him, that he delights to have his table
filled with black coats, whom he uses as if they were
gentlemen.
a
My lord Dartmouth is a man of letters, full of
good sense, good nature, and honour; of strict virtue
and regularity in his life; but labours under one
great defect, that he treats his clerks with more
civility and good manners than others in his station
have done the queen.
Omitting some others, I shall close this character
of the present ministry with that of Mr. St. John,b
who, from his youth, applying those admirable talents
of nature and improvements of art to public busi-
ness, grew eminent in court and parliament at an
age when the generality of mankind is employed
in trifles and folly. It is to be lamented that he has
not yet procured himself a busy, important coun-
tenauce, nor learned that profound part of wisdom,
to be difficult of access. Besides, he has clearly
mistaken the true use of books, which he has
thumbed and spoiled with reading, when he ought
to have multiplied them on his shelves: not like a
great man of my acquaintance, who knew a book
by the back better than a friend by the face, although
he had never conversed with the former, and often
with the latter.
No. 28.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1711.
Caput est in omni procuratione negotii et muneris publici, ut
avaritiæ pellatur etiam minima suspicio.
In every employment in every public office, it is of the utmost
importance to keep free from even the least suspicion of
avarice.
THERE is no vice which mankind carries to such
wild extremes as that of avarice. Those two which
seem to rival it in this point are lust and ambition;
but the former is checked by difficulties and diseases,
destroys itself by its own pursuits, and usually de-
clines with old age; and the latter, requiring courage,
conduct, and fortune in a high degree, and meeting
with a thousand dangers and oppositions, succeeds
too seldom in an age to fall under common obser-
vation. Or, avarice is perhaps the same passion
with ambition, only placed in more ignoble and das-
tardly minds, by which the object is changed from
power to money. Or it may be that one man pur-
sues power in order to wealth, and another wealth
in order to power, which last is the safer way,
although longer about; and suiting with every pe-
riod, as well as condition of life, is more generally
followed.
However it be, the extremes of this passion are
certainly more frequent than of any other; and often
to a degree so absurd and ridiculous, that if it were
not for their frequency, they could hardly obtain be-
lief. The stage, which carries other follics and vices
beyond nature and probability, falls very short in
the representations of avarice; nor are there any
extravagancies of this kind described by ancient or
• He succeeded the earl of Sunderland as secretary of state.
• Secretary of state, in the room of Mr. Henry Boyle.
modern comedies, which are not outdone by a hun
dred instances commonly told among ourselves.
I am ready to conclude hence, that a vice which
keeps so firm a hold upon human nature, aud
governs it with so unlimited a tyranny, since it can-
not wholly be eradicated, ought at least to be con-
fined to particular objects; to thrift and penury, to
private fraud and extortion, and never suffered to
prey upon the public; and should certainly be re-
jected as the most unqualifying circumstance for any
employment where bribery and corruption can pos-
sibly enter.
If the mischiefs of this vice in a public station
were confined to enriching only those particular per-
sons employed, the evil would be more supportable :
but it is usually quite otherwise. When a steward
defrauds his lord, he must connive at the rest of the
servants while they are following the same practice
in their several spheres: so that in some families
you may observe a subordination of knaves, in a
link downward to the very helper in the stables, all
cheating by concert, and with impunity. And even
if this were all, perhaps the master could bear it
without being undone; but it so happens that, for
every shilling the servant gets by iniquity, the master
loses twenty; the perquisites of servants being but
small compositions for suffering shopkeepers to
bring in what bills they please. It is exactly the
same thing in a state: an avaricious man in office is
in confederacy with the whole clan of his district or
dependence; which in modern terms of art is called
to live and let live; and yet their gains are the
smallest part of the public's loss. Give a guinea to
a knavish land-waiter, and he shall connive at the
merchant for cheating the queen of a hundred. A
brewer gives a bribe to have the privilege of selling
drink to the navy: but the fraud is a hundred times
greater than the bribe, and the public is at the
whole loss.
Moralists make two kinds of avarice; that of
Catiline, alieni appetens, sui profusus; and the
other more generally understood by that name,
which is the endless desire of hoarding. But I take
the former to be more dangerous in a state, because
it mingles with ambition, which I think the latter
cannot; for, although the same breast may be capa-
ble of admitting both, it is not able to cultivate
them; and where the love of heaping wealth pre-
vails, there is not, in my opinion, much to be appre-
hended from ambition. The disgrace of that sordid
vice is sooner apt to spread than any other; and is
always attended with the hatred and scorn of the
people so that whenever those two passions happen
to meet in the same subject, it is not unlikely that
Providence has placed avarice to be a check upon
ambition; and I have reason to think some great
ministers of state have been of my opinion.
The divine authority of holy writ, the precepts of
philosophers, the lashes and ridicule of satirical
poets, have been all employed in exploding this in-
satiable thirst of money; and all equally controlled
by the daily practice of mankind. Nothing new re-
mains to be said upon the occasion; and if there
did, I must remember my character, that I am an
Examiner only, and not a Reformer.
However, in those cases where the frailties of
particular men do nearly affect the public welfare,
such as a prime minister of state, or a great general
of an army, methinks there should be some expedi-
ent contrived to let them know impartially what is
the world's opinion in the point. Encompassed
with a crowd of depending flatterers, they are many
degrees blinder to their own faults than the common
infirmities of human nature can plead in their ex-
THE EXAMINER.
323
cuse.
Advice dares not to be offered, or is wholly
lost, or returned with hatred: and whatever appears
in public against their prevailing vice goes for no-
thing being either not applied, or passing only for
libel and slander, proceeding from the malice and
envy of party.
I have sometimes thought that if I had lived at
Rome in the time of the first triumvirate, I should
have been tempted to write a letter, as from an un-
known hand, to those three great men who had then
usurped the sovereign power; wherein I would
freely and sincerely tell each of them that fault
which I conceived was most odious, and of worst
consequence to the commonwealth. That to Crassus
should have been sent to him after his conquests in
Mesopotamia, and in the following terms:
"To Marcus Crassus, health.
"IF you apply, as you ought, what I now write,
you will be more obliged to me than to all the
world, hardly excepting your parents or your coun-
try. I intend to tell you, without disguise or preju-
dice, the opinion which the world has entertained of
you; and to let you see I write this without any sort
of ill will, you shall first hear the sentiments they
have to your advantage. No man disputes the grace-
fulness of your person; you are allowed to have a
good and clear understanding, cultivated by the
knowledge of men and manners, although not by
literature; you are no ill orator in the senate; you
are said to excel in the art of bridling and subduing
your anger, and stifling or concealing your resent-
ments; you have been a most successful general, of
long experience, great conduct, and much personal
courage; you have gained many important victories
for the commonwealth, and forced the strongest
towns in Mesopotamia to surrender, for which fre-
quent supplications have been decreed by the senate.
Yet with all these qualities, and this merit, give me
leave to say, you are neither beloved by the patri-
cians nor plebeians at home, nor by the officers or
private soldiers of your own army abroad. And do
you know, Crassus, that this is owing to a fault of
which you may cure yourself by one minute's reflec-
tion? What shall I say? You are the richest person
in the commonwealth; you have no male child;
your daughters are all married to wealthy patricians;
you are far in the decline of life, and yet you are
deeply stained with that odious and ignoble vice of
covetousness. It is affirmed that you descend even
to the meanest and most scandalous degrees of it;
and while you possess so many millions, while you
are daily acquiring so many more, you are solicitous
how to save a single sesterce; of which a hundred
ignominicus instances are produced, and in all men's
mouths. I will only mention that passage of the
buskins, which, after abundance of persuasion, you
would hardly suffer to be cut from your legs, when
they were so wet and cold, that to have kept them
on would have endangered your life.
For per-
"Instead of using the common arguments to dis-
suade you from this weakness, I will endeavour to
convince you that you are really guilty of it, and
leave the cure to your own good sense.
haps you are not yet persuaded that this is your
crime; you have probably never yet been reproached
for it to your face; and what you are now told comes
from one unknown, and it may be from an enemy.
You will allow yourself indeed to be prudent in the
management of your fortune; you are not a pro-
digal, like Clodius, or Catiline; but surely that de-
serves not the name of avarice. I will inform you
how to be convinced. Disguise your person, go
among the common people in Rome, introduce dis-
courses about yourself, inquire your own character:
do the same in your camp; walk about in the even-
ing, hearken at every tent; and if you do not hear
every mouth censuring, lamenting, cursing this vice
in you, and even you for this vice, conclude yourself
innocent. If you be not yet persuaded, send for
Atticus, Servius Sulpicius, Cato, or Erutus; they
are all your friends: conjure them to tell you inge-
nuously which is your great fault, and which they
would chiefly wish you to correct; if they do not
agree in their verdict, in the name of all the gods
you are acquitted.
"When your adversaries reflect how far you are
gone in this vice, they are tempted to talk as if we
owed our successes not to your courage or conduct
but to those veteran troops you command, who are
able to conquer under any general, with so many
brave and experienced officers to lead them.
Besides, we know the consequences your avarice has
often occasioned. The soldier has been starving for
bread, surrounded with plenty, and in an enemy's
country; but all under safeguards and contribu-
tions, which, if you had sometimes pleased to have
exchanged for provisions, might, at the expense of a
few talents in a campaign, have so endeared you to
the army, that they would have desired you to lead
them to the utmost limits of Asia. But you rather
choose to confine your conquests within the fruitful
country of Mesopotamia, where plenty of money
might be raised. How far that fatal greediness
of gold may have influenced you in breaking off the
treaty with the old Parthian king Orodes, you best
can tell your enemies charge you with it; your
friends offer nothing material in your defence; and
all agree there is nothing so pernicious which the
extremes of avarice may not be able to inspire.
"The moment you quit this vice you will be a truly
great man; and still there will imperfections enough
remain to convince us you are not a god. Fare-
well."
Perhaps a letter of this nature, sent to so reason-
able a man as Crassus, might have put him upon
examining into himself, and correcting that little
sordid appetite, so utterly inconsistent with all pre-
tences to heroism. A youth in the heat of blood
may plead, with some show of reason, that he is not
able to subdue his lusts. An ambitious man may
use the same arguments for his love of power; or
perhaps other arguments to justify it. But excess of
avarice has neither of these pleas to offer; it is not
to be justified, and cannot pretend temptation for
excuse. Whence can the temptation come? Reason
disclaims it altogether, and it cannot be said to lodge
in the blood or the animal spirits. So that I con-
clude no man of true valour and true understanding,
upon whom this vice has stolen unawares, when he
is convinced he is guilty will suffer it to remain in
his breast an hour.
No. 29.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1711.
Inultus ut tu riseris Cotyttia?
Shall you Cotytto's feasts deride,
Yet safely triumph in your pride?
In answer to the Letter to the Examiner.]
London, Feb. 15, 1711.
SIR--Although I have wanted leisure to acknow-
ledge the honour of a letter you were pleased to
write to me about six months ago, yet I have been
very careful in obeying some of your commands,
and am going on as fast as I can with the rest.
wish you had thought fit to have conveyed them to
me by » more private hand than that of the printing
I
Y 2
THE EXAMINER.
324
house; for, although I was pleased with a pattern of
style and spirit which I proposed to imitate, yet 1
was sorry the world should be a witness how far I
fell short in both.
I am afraid you did not consider what an abund-
ance of work you have cut out for me; neither am I
at all comforted by the promise you are so kind to
make, that when I have performed my task, “D—n
shall blush in his grave among the dead, Walpole
among the living, and even Volpone shall feel some
remorse." How the gentleman in his grave may
have kept his countenance I cannot inform you,
having no acquaintance at all with the sexton; but
for the other two, I take leave to assure you there
have not yet appeared the least signs of blushing or
remorse in either, although some very good oppor-
tunities have offered, if they had thought fit to
accept them; so that, with your permission, I would
rather engage to continue this work until they be in
their graves too; which I am sure will happen
much sooner than the other.
You desire I would collect some of those indigni-
ties offered last year to her majesty. I am ready to
oblige you; and have got a pretty tolerable collec-
tion by me, which I am in doubt whether to publish
by itself in a large volume in folio, or scatter them
here and there occasionally in my papers; although,
indeed, I am sometimes thinking to stifle them
altogether; because such a history will be apt to
give foreigners a monstrous opinion of our country.
But since it is your absolute opinion that the world
should be informed, I will, with the first occasion,
pick out a few choice instances, and let them take
their chance in the ensuing papers. I have likewise
in my cabinet certain quires of paper filled with facts
of corruption, mismanagement, cowardice, treachery,
avarice, ambition, and the like; with an alphabetical
table to save trouble. And perhaps you will not
wonder at the care I take to be so well provided,
when you consider the vast expense I am at. I feed
weekly two or three wit-starved writers, who have
no visible support; besides several others who live
upon my offals. In short, I am like a nurse who
suckles twins at one time, and has besides one or
two whelps constantly to draw her breasts.
I must needs confess (and it is with grief I speak
it) that I have been the innocent cause of a great
circulation of dulness; at the same time, I have
often wondered how it has come to pass that these
industrious people, after poring so constantly upon
the Examiner, a paper writ with plain sense and in
a tolerable style, have made so little improvement.
I am sure it would have fallen out quite otherwise
with me; for, by what I have seen of their perform-
ances (and I am credibly informed they are all of
a piece), if I had perused them until now I should
have been fit for little but to make an advocate in
the same cause.
You, sir, perhaps will wonder, as most others do,
what end these angry folks propose in writing per-
petually against the Examiner: it is not to beget
a better opinion of the late ministry, or with
any hope to convince the world that I am in the
wrong in any one fact I relate; they know all that
to be lost labour, and yet their design is important
enough they would fain provoke me, by all sorts of
methods within the length of their capacity, to
answer their papers; which would render mine
wholly useless to the public; for, if it once came to
rejoinder and reply, we should be all upon a level;
and then their work would be done.
There is one gentleman, indeed, who has written
• Dr Hare, afterwards Inshop of Chichester, chaplain to the
duke of Marlborough.
three small pamphlets upon the management of the
war, and the treaty of peace. These I had intended
to have bestowed a paper in examining; and could
easily have made it appear that whatever he says of
truth relates not at all to the evils we complain of,
or controls one syllable of what I have ever ad-
vanced. Nobody that I know of did ever dispute
the duke of Marlborough's courage, conduct, or suc-
cess; they have been always unquestionable, and
will continue to be so, in spite of the malice of his
enemies, or, which is yet more, the weakness of his
advocates. The nation only wishes to see him taker.
out of ill hands, and put into better. But what is
all this to the conduct of the late ministry, the
shameful mismanagements in Spain, or the wrong
steps in the treaty of peace; the secret of which will
not bear the light, and is consequently by this author
very poorly defended? These, and many other
things, I would have shown; but, upon second
thoughts, determined to have it done in a discourse
by itself, rather than take up room here, and break
into the design of this paper, whence I have resolved
to banish controversy as much as possible. But the
postscript to his third pamphlet was enough to dis-
gust me from having any dealings at all with such a
writer; unless that part was left to some footman
he has picked up among the boys who follow the
camp,
whose character it would suit much better
than that of the supposed author: at least, the foul
language, the idle, impotent menaces, and the gross
perverting of an innocent expression in the fourth.
Examiner, joined to that respect I chall ever have
for the function of a divine, would incline me to
believe so.
But, when he turns off his footman and
disclaims that postscript, I will tear it out and see
how far the rest deserves to be considered.
But, sir, I labour under a much greater difficulty,
upon which I should be glad to hear your advice. I
am worried on one side by the Whigs for being too
severe, and by the Tories on the other for being too
gentle. I have formerly hinted a complaint of this,
but having lately received two peculiar letters,
among many others, I thought nothing could better
represent my condition, or the opinion which the
warm men of both sides have of my conduct, than to
send you a transcript of each. The former is ex-
actly in these words :—
"To the Examiner.
“Mr. ExamineR,-By your continual reflecting
upon the conduct of the late ministry, and by your
encomiums on the present, it is as clear as the sun
at noon-day that you are a jesuit, or noujuror, em-
ployed by the friends of the pretender to endeavour
to introduce popery, and slavery, and arbitrary
power, and to infringe the sacred act for toleration
of dissenters. Now, sir, since the most ingenious
authors, who write weekly against you, are not able
to teach you better mauners, I would have you to
know that those great and excellent men, as low as
you think thein at present, do not want friends that
will take the first proper occasion to cut your throat,
as all such enemies to moderation ought to be served.
It is well you have cleared another person from
being author of your cursed libels; although, d-n
me, perhaps after all that may be a bamboozle too.
However, I hope we shall soon ferret you out.
Therefore I advise you as a friend to let fall your
pen, and retire by times; for our patience is now at
an end. It is enough to lose our power and em-
ployments without setting the whole nation against
Consider, three years is the life of a party;
d-n me, every dog has his day, and it will be our
turn next; therefore take warning, and learn to
115.
•
325
THE EXAMINER.
sleep in a whole skin; or, whenever we are upper-
most, by G-d you shall find no mercy."
The other letter was in the following terms:
"To the Examiner.
"SIR, I am a country member, and constantly send
a dozen of your papers down to my electors. I have
read them all, but, I confess, not with the satisfaction
I expected. It is plain you know a great deal more
than you write; why will you not let us have it all
out? We are told that the queen has been a long
time treated with insolence by those she has most
obliged. Pray, sir, let us have a few good stories
that head. We have been cheated of several
upon that head.
millions; why will you not set a mark on the knaves
who are guilty, and show us what ways they took to
rob the public at such a rate? inform us how we
came to be disappointed of peace about two years
ago. In short, turn the whole mystery of iniquity
inside out, that everybody may have a view of it.
But, above all, explain to us what was the bottom of
that same impeachment; I am sure I never liked it;
for at that very time a dissenting preacher in our
neighbourhood came often to see our parson; it
could be for no good, for he would walk about the
barns and the stables, and desired to look into the
church, as who should say, These will shortly be
mine and we all believed he was then contriving
some alterations, against he got into possession. And
I shall never forget that a Whig justice offered me
then very high for my bishop's lease. I must be so
bold to tell you, sir, that you are too favourable; I
am sure there was no living in quiet for us, while
they were in the saddle. I was turned out of the
commission, and called a Jacobite, although it cost
me a thousand pounds in joining with the prince of
Orange at the Revolution. The discoveries I would
have you make are of some facts for which they
ought to be hanged; not that I value their heads,
but I would see them exposed, which may be done
upon the owner's shoulders as well as upon a pole,"
&c.
These, sir, are the sentiments of a whole party on
one side, and of considerable numbers on the other:
however, taking the medium between these extremes,
I think to go on as I have hitherto done, although I
am sensible my paper would be more opular if I
did not lean too much on the favourable side. For
nothing delights the people more than to see their
oppressors humbled, and all their actions painted
with proper colours, set out in open view; exactos
tyrannos densum humeris bibit aure vulgus.
tions that might tend toward making them refund;
like those women they call shoplifters, who, when
they are challenged for their thefts, appear to be
mighty angry and affronted, for fear of being
searched.
The
I will dismiss you, sir, when I have taken notice
of one particular. Perhaps you may have observed
in the tolerated factious papers of the week, that the
earl of Rochester is frequently reflected on for
having been ecclesiastical commissioner and lord-
treasurer in the reign of the late king James.
fact is true; and it will not be denied, to his im-
mortal honour, that, because he could not comply
with the measures then taking, he resigned both
those employments; of which the latter was imme-
diately supplied by a commission composed of two
popish lords, and the present earl of Godolphin.
No. 30.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1711.
Laus summa in fortunæ bouis, non extulisse se in potestate, non
fuisse insolentem in pecunia, non se prætulisse aliis propter
abundantiam fortunæ.
In the goods of fortune it is the highest commendation to say
that he was not elated in power, insolent in riches, or con-
temptuous amid the overflowing of fortune.
I AM conscious to myself that I write this paper with
no other intention but of doing good. I never re-
ceived injury from the late ministry, nor advantage
from the present, further than in common with
every good subject. There were among the former
one or two who must be allowed to have possessed
very valuable qualities; but proceeding by a system
of politics which our constitution could not suffer,
and discovering a contempt of all religion, especially
of that which has been so happily established among
us ever since the Reformation, they seem to have
been justly suspected of no very good inclinations to
either.
It is possible that a man may speculatively prefer
the constitution of another country, or a Utopia of
his own, before that of the nation where he is born
and lives; yet, from considering the dangers of in-
novation, the corruptions of mankind, and the fre-
quent impossibility of reducing ideas to practice, he
may join heartily in preserving the present order of
things and be a true friend to the government already
settled. So in religion, a man may perhaps have
little or none of it at heart; yet if he conceals his
opinions, if he endeavours to make no proselytes,
advances no impious tenets in writing or discourse;
if according to the common atheistical notion he
believes religion to be only a contrivance of politi-
cians for keeping the vulgar in awe, and that the
present model is better adjusted than any other to so
useful an end; although the condition of such a
man as to his own future state be very deplorable,
yet Providence, which often works good out of evil,
can make even such a man an instrument for contri-
buting toward the preservation of the church.
But as for the Whigs, I am in some doubt whether
this mighty concern they show for the honour of the
late ministry may not be affected; at least whether
their masters will thank them for their zeal in such
a cause. It is, I think, a known story of a gentle-
man, who fought another for calling him a son of a
whore, that the lady desired her son to make no
more quarrels upon that subject, because it was true.
For pray, sir, does it not look like a jest, that such a On the other side, I take a state to be truly in
pernicious crew, after draining our wealth, and dis- danger, both as to its religion and government, when
covering the most destructive designs against our a set of ambitious politicians, bred up in hatred
church and state, instead of thanking fortune that to the constitution and a contempt for all religion,
they are got off safe in their persons and plunder, are forced upon exerting these qualities, in order
should hire these bullies of the pen to defend their to keep or increase their power, by widening
reputations? I remember I thought it the hardest their bottom and taking in (like Mahomet) some
case in the world, when a poor acquaintance of mine, principles from every party that is in any way dis-
having fallen in among sharpers, where he lost all his contented at the present faith and settlement; which
money, and then, complaining he was cheated, got a
was manifestly our case. Upon this occasion I re-
good beating into the bargain, for offering to affront member to have asked some considerable Whigs
gentlemen. I believe the only reason why these whether it did not bring a disreputation upon their
purloiners of the public cause such a clutter to be body to have the whole herd of presbyterians, inde-
made about their reputations is, to prevent inquisi-pendents, atheists, anabaptists, deists, quake.s, and
326
THE EXAMINER.
socinians, openly and universally listed under their
banners? They answered that all this was absolutely
necessary in order to make a balance against the
Tories; and a little enough: for indeed it was as
much as they could possibly do, although assisted
with the absolute power of disposing of every em-
ployment, while the bulk of the English gentry
kept firm to their old principles in church and state.
But notwithstanding what I have hitherto said, I
am informed several among the Whigs continue still
so refractory, that they will hardly allow the heads
of their party to have entertained any designs of
ruining the constitution; or that they would have
endeavoured it if they had continued in power. I
beg their pardon if I have discovered a secret; but
who could imagine they ever intended it should be
one, after those overt acts with which they thought
fit to conclude their farce? But perhaps they now find
it convenient to deny vigorously; that the question
may remain, why was the old ministry changed,
which they urge on without ceasing, as if no occasion
in the least had been given, but that all were owing
to the insinuations of crafty men practising upon the
weakness of an easy prince: I shall therefore offer,
among an hundred, one reason for this change, which
I think would justify any monarch who ever reigned
for the like proceeding.
It is notorious enough how highly princes have
been blamed in the histories of all countries, parti-
cularly of our own, upon the account of their minions;
who have been ever justly odious to the people for
their insolence and avarice, and engrossing the favours
of their masters. Whoever has been the least con-
versant in the English story cannot but have heard
of Gaveston, the Spencers, and the earl of Oxford;
who by the excess and abuse of their power cost the
princes they served, or rather governed, their crowns
and lives. However, in the case of minions it must
at least be acknowledged that the prince is pleased
and happy, although his subjects be aggrieved; and
he has the plea of friendship to excuse him, which
is a disposition of generous minds. Besides, a wise
minion, although he be haughty to others, is humble
and insinuating to his master, and cultivates his favour
by obedience and respect. But our misfortune has
been a great deal worse; we have suffered for some
years under the oppression, the avarice, and insolence
of those for whom the queen had neither esteem nor
friendship; who rather seemed to snatch their own
dues than receive the favour of their sovereign; and
were so far from returning respect, that they forgot
common good manners. They imposed on their
prince by urging the necessity of affairs of their own
creating they first raised difficulties, and then offered
them as arguments to keep themselves in power.
They united themselves, against nature and principle,
to a party they had always abhorred, and which was
now content to come in upon any terms, leaving
them and their creatures in full possession of the
court then they urged the formidable strength of
that party, and the dangers which must follow by
discbliging it. So that it seems almost a miracle
how a princess thus besieged on all sides could alone
have courage and prudence enough to extricate
herself.
And, indeed, there is a point of history relating to
this matter which well deserves to be considered.
When her majesty came to the crown she took into
favour and employment several persons who were
esteemed the best friends of the old constitution;
among whom none were reckoned further gone in
the high church principles (as they are usually called)
than two or three who had at that time most credit,
and ever since. until within these few months, pos-
1
sessed all power at court. So that the first umbrage
given to the Whigs, and the pretences for clamour-
ing against France and the pretender, were derived
from them. And I believe nothing appeared then
more unlikely than that such different opinions
should ever incorporate; that party having, upon
former occasions, treated those very persons with
enmity enough. But some lords then about court,
and in the queen's good graces, not able to endure
those growing impositions upon the prince and
people, presumed to interpose, and were, conse-
quently, soon removed and disgraced. However,
when a most exorbitant grant was proposed, ante-
cedent to any visible merit, it miscarried in par-
liament for want of being seconded by those who
had most credit in the house; and who, having
always opposed the like excesses in a former reign,
thought it their duty to do so still, to show to the
world that the dislike was not against persons, but
things. But this was to cross the oligarchy in the
tenderest point; a point which outweighed all con-
siderations of duty and gratitude to their prince or
regard to the constitution; and therefore, after
having in several private meetings concerted mea-
sures with their old enemies, and granted as well as
received conditions, they began to change their style
and their countenance, and to put it as a maxim
in the mouths of their emissaries, that England must
be saved by Whigs. This unnatural league was
afterward cultivated by another incident, I mean the
act of security, and the consequences of it, which
everybody knows; when (to use the words of my
correspondenta) the sovereign authority was par-
celled out among the faction, and made the purchase
of indemnity for an offending minister. Thus the
union of the two kingdoms improved that between
the ministry and the junto, which was afterward
cemented by their mutual danger in that storm they
so narrowly escaped about three years ago, but,
however, was not quite perfected till prince George'sb
death; and then they went lovingly on together,
both satisfied with their several shares, and at full
liberty to gratify their predominant inclinations;
the first, their avarice and ambition; the other,
their models of innovation in church and state.
Therefore, whoever thinks fit to revive that baffled
question, why was the late ministry changed? may
receive the following answer, that it was become
necessary by the insolence and avarice of some
about the queen, who, in order to perpetuate their
tyranny, had made a monstrous alliance with those
who profess principles destructive to our religion
and government. If this will not suffice, let him
make an abstract of all the abuses I have mentioned
in
my former papers, and view them together; after
which, if he still remain unsatisfied, let him suspend
his opinion a few weeks longer. Although, after
all, I think the question as trifling as that of the
papists, when they ask us, where was our religion
before Luther? And, indeed, the ministry was
changed for the same reasons that religion was re-
formed; because a thousand corruptions had crept
into the discipline and doctrine of the state by the
pride, the avarice, the fraud, and the ambition of
those who administered to us in secular affairs.
I heard myself censured the other day in a coffee-
house for seeming to glance in the letter to Crassus
against a great man who is still in employment
and likely to continue so. What if I had really in-
tended that such an application should be given it ?.
I cannot perceive how I could be justly blamed for
so gentle a reproof. If I saw a handsome young
• Letter to the Examiner.
Prince George of Denmark favoured the Tories.
THE EXAMINER.
327
4
•
But
fellow going to a ball at court with a great smut
unon his face, could he take it ill in me to point
out the place, and desire him, with abundance of
good words, to pull out his handkerchief and wipe
it off, or bring him to a glass, where he might
plainly see it with his own eyes? Does any man
think I shall suffer my pen to inveigh against vices,
only because they are charged upon persons who
are no longer in power? Everybody knows that
certain vices are more or less pernicious according
to the stations of those who possess them.
For ex-
ample, lewdness and intemperance are not of so bad
consequences in a town-rake as in a divine; cowardice
In a lawyer is more supportable than in an officer of
the army.
If I should find fault with an admiral
because he wanted politeness, or an alderman for
not understanding Greek, that indeed would be to
go out of the way for occasion of quarrelling.
excessive avarice in a general is, I think, the greatest
defect he can be liable to next to the want of courage
and conduct, and may be attended with the most
ruinous consequences, as it was in Crassus, who to
that vice alone owed the destruction of himself and
his army.
It is the same thing in praising men's
excellencies which are more or less valuable, as the
person you commend has occasion to employ them.
A man may perhaps mean honestly; yet, if he be
not able to spell, he slrall never have my vote to be
a secretary. Another may have wit and learning,
in a post where honesty with plain common sense
are of much more use. You may praise a soldier
for his skill at chess, because it is said to be a mili-
tary game, and the emblem of drawing up an army;
but this to a treasurer would be no more a com-
pliment than if you called him a gamester or a
jockey.
P.S. I have received a letter relating to Mr.
Greenshields; the person that sent it
may know
that I will say something to it in the next paper.
No. 31.
THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1711.
Quæ enim domus tam stabilis, quæ tam firma civitas est, quæ
non odiis atque dissidiis tunditùs possit eveiti?
What family so established, what society so firmly united, that
it cannot be broken and dissolved by intestine quarrels and
divisions?
If we examine what societies of men are in closest
union among themselves, we shall find them either
to be those who are engaged in some evil design, or
who labour under one common misfortune. Thus
the troops of banditti in several countries abroad, the
kuots of highwaymen in our own nation, the several
tribes of sharpers, thieves, and pickpockets, with
many others, are so firmly knit together, that no-
thing is more difficult than to break or dissolve their
several gangs; so likewise those who are fellow-
sufferers under any misfortune, whether it be in
reality or opinion, are usually contracted into a very
strict union as we may observe in the papists
throughout the kingdom, under those real dif-
ficulties which are justly put on them; and in the
several schisms of presbyterians and other sects
under that grievous persecution of the modern kind
called want of power. And the reason why such
confederacies are kept so sacred and inviolable is
very plain; because in each of those cases I have
mentioned the whole body is moved by one spirit
in pursuit of one general end, and the interest of
individuals is not crossed by each other, or by the
whole.
Now both these motives are joined to unite the
high-flying Whigs at present: they have been always
|
|
engaged in an evil design, and of late they are faster
riveted by that terrible calamity, the loss of power.
So that, whatever designs a mischievous crew of dark
confederates may possibly entertain, who will stop
at no means to compass them, may be justly appre-
hended from these.
On the other side, those who wish well to the
public, and would gladly contribute to its service,
are apt to differ in their opinions about the methods
of promoting it; and when their party flourishes are
sometimes envious at those in power; ready to over-
value their own merit, and be impatient until it be
rewarded by the measure they have prescribed for
themselves. There is a further topic of contention,
which a ruling party is apt to fall into in relation to
retrospections and inquiry into past miscarriages;
wherein some are thought too warm and zealous,
others too cool and remiss; while, in the mean time,
these divisions are industriously fomented by the
discarded faction, which, although it be an old prac-
tice, has been much improved in the schools of the
jesuits, who, when they despaired of perverting this
nation to popery by arguments or plots against the
state, sent their emissaries to subdivide us into
schisms. And this expedient is now, with great
propriety, taken up by our men of incensed mode-
ration, because they suppose themselves able to
attack the strongest of our subdivisions, and to
subdue us one after another. Nothing better re-
sembles this proceeding than that famous combat
between the Horatii and Curiatii, where, two of the
former being killed, the third, who remained entire
and untouched, was able to kill his three wounded
adversaries, after he had divided them by a stra-
tagem. I well know with how tender a hand all
this should be touched; yet, at the same time, I
think it my duty to warn the friends as well as ex-
pose the enemies of the public weal, and to begin
preaching up union upon the first suspicion that
any steps are made to disturb it.
But the two chief subjects of discontent, which,
upon most great changes in the management of
public affairs, are apt to breed differences among
those who are in possession, are what I have just
now mentioned; a desire of punishing the corrup-
tion of former managers, and rewarding merit among
those who have been any way instrumental or cou-
senting to the change. The first of these is a point
so nice that I shall purposely wave it; but the latter
I take to fall properly within my district. By merit
I here understand that value which every man puts
upon his own deservings from the public. And I
believe there could not be a more difficult employ-
ment found out than that of paymaster-general to
this sort of merit; or a more noisy crowded place
than a court of judicature erected to settle and ad-
just every man's claim upon that article. I imagine,
if this had fallen into the fancy of the ancient poets,
they would have dressed it up after their manner
into an agreeable fiction, and given us a genealogy
and description of merit, perhaps not very different
from that which follows.
A poetical Genealogy and Description of MERIT.
"THAT true Merit was the son of Virtue and Ho
nour; but that there was likewise a spurious child,
who usurped the name, and whose parents were
Vanity and Impudence. That at a distance there
was a great resemblance between them, and they were
often mistaken for each other. That the bastard
issue had a loud shrill voice, which was perpetually
employed in cravings and complaints; while the
other never spoke louder than a whisper, and was
often so bashful that he could not speak at all. That
328
THE EXAMINER.
in all great assemblies the false Merit would step
before the true, and stand just in his way; was con-
stantly at court, or great men's levees, or whispering
in some minister's ear. That the more you fed
him the more hungry and importunate he grew.
That he often passed for the true son of Virtue and
Honour, and the genuine for an impostor. That he
was born distorted and a dwarf, but by force of art
appeared of handsome shape, and taller than the
usual size; and that none but those who were wise
and good, as well as vigilant, could discover his
littleness or deformity. That the true Merit had been
often forced to the indignity of applying to the false
for his credit with those in power, and to keep him-
self from starving. That false Merit filled the ante-
chambers with a crew of his dependants and crea-
tures, such as projectors, schematists, occasional
converts to a party, prostitute flatterers, starveling
writers, buffoons, shallow politicians, empty orators,
and the like; who all owned him for their patron,
and he grew discontented if they were not immedi-
ately fed."
|
shields, an episcopal clergyman of Scotland; and
the writer seems to be a gentleman of that part of
Britain.
Britain. I remember formerly to have read a print-
ed account of Mr. Greenshields' case, who has been
prosecuted and silenced, for no other reason beside
reading divine service after the manner of the church
of England to his own congregation, who desired it;
though, as the gentleman who writes to me says,
there is no law in Scotland against those meetings;
and he adds that the sentence pronounced against
Mr. Greenshields will soon be affirmed, if some care
be not taken to prevent it. I am altogether unin-
formed in the particulars of this case, and, besides,
to treat it justly would not come within the compass
of my paper; therefore I could wish the gentleman
would undertake it in a discourse by itself; and I
should be glad he would inform the public in one
fact, whether episcopal assemblies are freely allowed
in Scotland? It is notorious that abundance of
their clergy fled from thence some years ago into
England and Ireland, as from a persecution; but it
was alleged by their enemies that they refused to
This metaphorical description of false Merit is, I take the oaths to the government, which, however,
doubt, calculated for most countries in Christendom: none of them scrupled when they came among us.
as to our own, I believe it may be said, with a suffi- It is somewhat extraordinary to see our Whigs and
cient reserve of charity, that we are fully able to re- fanatics keep such a stir about the sacred act of
ward every man among us according to his real de- toleration, while their brethren will not allow a
servings; and I think I may add, without suspicion connivance in so near a neighbourhood ; especially
of flattery, that never any prince had a ministry with if what the gentleman insists on in his letter be true,
a better judgment to distinguish between false and that nine parts in ten of the nobility and gentry, and
real merit than that which is now at the helm
; or
two in three of the commons, are episcopal; of
whose inclination, as well as interest, was greater to which, one argument he offers is, the present choice
encourage the latter. And it ought to be observed, of their representatives in both houses, though ɔp-
that those great and excellent persons we sec at the posed to the utmost by the preachings, threatenings,
head of affairs are of the queen's own personal, vo-
and anathemas of the kirk. Such usage to a ma-
luntary choice; not forced upon her by any insolent | jority may, as he thinks, be of dangerous couse-
If these
overgrown favourite, or by the pretended necessity quence; and I entirely agree with him.
of complying with an unruly faction.
be the principles of the high kirk, God preserve at
least the southern parts from their tyranny!
Yet these are the persons whom those scandals to
the press, in their daily pamphlets and papers, open-
ly revile at so ignominious a rate as I believe was
never tolerated before under any government. For
surely no lawful power derived from a prince should
be so far affronted as to leave those who are in au-
thority exposed to every scurrilous libeller: because
in this point I make a mighty difference between
those who are in and those who are out of power;
not upon any regard to their persons, but the sta-
tions they are placed in by the sovereign. And if
my distinction be right I think I might appeal to
any man whether, if a stranger were to read the in-
vectives which are daily published against the pre-
sent ministry, and the outrageous fury of the au-
thors against me for censuring the last, he would not
conclude the Wigs to be at this time in full pos-
session of power and favour, and the Tories entirely
at their mercy.
But all this now ceases to be a
wonder, since the queen herself is no longer spared;
witness the libel published some days ago, under the
title of "A Letter to Sir Jacob Banks," where the
reflections upon her sacred majesty are much more
plain and direct than ever the Examiner thought fit
to publish against the most obnoxious persons in a
ministry discarded for endeavouring the ruin of their
prince and country. Cæsar, indeed, threatened to
hang the pirates for presuming to disturb him, while
he was their prisoner aboard their ship: but it was
Cæsar who did so, and he did it to a crew of public
robbers; and it became the greatness of his spirit,
for he lived to execute what he had threatened. Had
they been in his power and sent such a message, it
could be imputed to nothing but the extremes of im-
pudence, folly, or madness.
I had a letter last week relating to Mr. Green-
No. 32.
THURSDAY, MARCH 8,
Garrit, aniles
Ex re fabellas.
1711.
Never fails
To cheer our converse with his pithy tales.
I HAD last week sent me, by an unknown hand, a
passage out of Plato, with some hints how to apply
it.
That author puts a fable into the mouth of
Aristophanes, with an account of the original of
that mankind was at first created with four
love;
arms and legs, and all other parts double to what
they are now; till Jupiter, as a punishment for
his sins, cleft him in two with a thunderbolt; since
which time we are always looking out for our other
But Jupiter
half; and this is the cause of love.
threatened, that if they did not mend their manners
he would give them t'other slit, and leave them to
hop about in the shape of figures in basso relievo.
The effect of this last threatening, my correspondent
imagines, is now come to pass; and that, as the first
splitting was the original of love, by inclining us to
search for our other half; so the second was the
cause of hatred, by prompting us to fly from our
other side, and, dividing the same body into two,
gave each slice the name of a party.
I approve the fable and application, with this re-
finement upon it for parties do not only split a
nation but every individual among them, leaving
each but half their strength and wit, and honesty,
and good nature; but one eye and ear for their
sight and hearing, and equally lopping the rest of
the senses. Where partics are pretty equal in a
}
THE EXAMINER.
329
Ι
state no man can perceive one bad quality in his
own, or good one in his adversaries. Besides, party
being a dry, disagreeable subject, it renders conversa-
tion insipid or sour, and confines invention.
speak not here of the leaders, but the insignificant
crowd of followers in a party, who have been the
instruments of mixing it in every condition and cir-
cumstance of life. As the zealots among the Jews
bound the law about their forehead, and wrists, and
hems of their garments, so the women among us
have got the distinguishing marks of party in their
muffs, their fans, and their furbelows. The Whig
ladies put on their patches in a different manner
from the Tories. They have made schisms in the
playhouse, and each have their particular sides at
the opera; and when a man changes his party he
must infallibly count upon the loss of his mistress,
I asked a gentleman the other day how he liked
such a lady; but he would not give me his opinion
till I had answered him whether she were a Whig
or a Tory. Mr. Prior, since he is known to visit
the present ministry, and lay some time under a sus-
picion of writing the Examiner, is no longer a man
of wit; his very poems have contracted a stupidity
many years after they were printed.
Having lately ventured upon a metaphorical ge-
nealogy of Merit, I thought it would be proper to
add another of Party, or rather of Faction (to avoid
mistake), not telling the reader whether it be my
own or a quotation, till I know how it is approved.
But whether I read or dreamt it, the fable is as fol-
lows:
66
Liberty, the daughter of Oppression, after hav
ing brought forth several fair children, as Riches,
Arts, Learning, Trade, and many others, was at last
delivered of her youngest daughter, called Faction;
whom Juno, doing the office of the midwife, dis-
torted in her birth, out of envy to the mother,
whence it derived its peevishness and sickly consti-
tution. However, as it is often the nature of parents
to grow most fond of their youngest and disagree-
ablest children, so it happened with Liberty; who
doted on this daughter to such a degree that by
her good will she would never suffer the girl to be
out of her sight. As Miss Faction grew up she be-
came so termagant and froward, that there was no
enduring her any longer in heaven. Jupiter gave
her warning to be gone; and her mother, rather
than forsake her, took the whole family down to
earth. She landed first in Greece; was expelled by
degrees through all the cities by her daughter's ill
conduct; fled afterward to Italy, and, being banish-
ed thence, took shelter among the Goths, with whom
she passed into most parts of Europe; but, being
driven out every where, she began to lose esteem,
and her daughter's faults were imputed to herself;
sɔ that, at this time, she has hardly a place in the
world to retire to. One would wonder what strange
qualities this daughter must possess sufficient to
blast the influence of so divine a mother and the
rest of her children. She always affected to keep
mean and scandalous company; valuing nobody but
just as they agreed with her in every capricious opi-
nion she thought fit to take up; and rigorously ex-
acting compliance, though she changed her senti-
ments ever so often. Her great employment was,
to breed discord among friends and relations, and
make up monstrous alliances between those whose
dispositions least resembled each other. Whoever
offered to contradict her, though in the most insig-
nificant trifle, she would be sure to distinguish by
some ignominious appellation, and allow them to
have neither honour, wit, beauty, learning, honesty,
or common sense. She intruded into all companies
at the most unseasonable tinies; mixed at balls, as-
semblies, and other parties of pleasure; haunted
every coffeehouse and bookseller's shop; and by her
perpetual talking filled all places with disturbance
and confusion: she buzzed about the merchant in
the Exchange, the divine in his pulpit, and the
shopkeeper behind his counter. Above all, she fre-
quented public assemblies, where she sat in the
shape of an obscene, ominous bird, ready to prompt
her friends as they spoke."
If I understand this fable of Faction right, it ought
to be applied to those who set themselves up against
the true interest and constitution of their country,
which I wish the undertakers for the late ministry
would please to take notice of, or tell us by what
figure of speech they pretend to call so great and un-
forced a majority, with the queen at their head, by the
name of the Faction, which is not unlike the phrase
of the Nonjurors, who, dignifying one or two de-
prived bishops, and half a score clergymen of the
same stamp, with the title of the Church of England,
exclude all the rest as schismatics; or like the pres-
byterians, laying the same accusation, with equal
justice, against the established religion.
And here it may be worth inquiring what are the
true characteristics of a faction, or how it is to be
distinguished from that great body of the people who
are friends to the constitution? The heads of a fac-
tion are usually a set of upstarts, or men ruined in
their fortunes, whom some great change in a govern-
ment did at first, out of their obscurity, produce upon
the stage.
They associate themselves with those
who dislike the old establishment, religious and
civil. They are full of new schemes in politics and
divinity; they have an incurable hatred against the
old nobility, and strengthen their party by dependants
raised from the lowest of the people. They have
several ways of working themselves into power; but
they are sure to be called when a corrupt adminis-
tration wants to be supported against those who are
endeavouring at a reformation; and they firmly ob-
serve that celebrated maxim of preserving power by
the same arts by which it is attained. They act with
the spirit of those who believe their time is but
short; and their first care is to heap up immense
riches at the public expense, in which they have two
ends beside that common one of insatiable avarice,
which are, to make themselves necessary, and to
keep the commonwealth in dependence. Thus they
hope to compass their design, which is, instead of
fitting their principles to the constitution, to alter
and adjust the constitution to their own pernicious
principles.
It is easy determining by this test to which side
the name of faction most properly belongs. But,
however, I will give them any system of law or regal
government, from William the Conqueror to this
present time, to try whether they can tally it with
their late models; excepting only that of Cromwell,
whom, perhaps, they will reckon for a monarch.
If the present ministry, and so great a majority in
the parliament and kingdom, be only a faction, it
must appear by some actions which answer the idea
we usually conceive from that word. Have they
abused the prerogatives of the prince, or invaded the
rights and liberties of the subject? Have they of
fered at any dangerous innovations in church or
state? Have they broached any doctrines of heresy,
rebellion, or tyranny? Have any of them treated
their sovereign with insolence, engrossed and sold all
her favours, or deceived her by base, gross misrepre-
sentations of her most faithful servants? These are
the arts of a faction, and whoever has practised them,
they and their followers must take up with the name.
330
THE EXAMINER.
It is usually reckoned a Whig principle to appeal
to the people; but that is only when they have been
so wise as to poison their understandings beforehand.
Will they now stand to this appeal, and be deter-
mined by their vox populi to which side their title
of faction oelongs? And that the people are now
left to the natural freedom of their understanding
and choice I believe their adversaries will hardly
deny. They will now refuse this appeal, and it is
reasonable they should; and I will further add, that,
if our people resembled the old Grecians, there
might be danger in such a trial. A pragmatical |
orator told a great man at Athens, that whenever
the people were in their rage they would certainly
tear him to pieces: Yes, says the other, and they
will do the same to you whenever they are in their
wits. But, God be thanked, our populace is more
merciful in their nature, and at present under better
direction; and the orators among us have attempted
to confound both prerogative and law in their sove-
reign's presence, and before the highest court of
judicature, without any hazard to their persons.
No. 33.
THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 1711.
Non est ea medicina, cum sanæ parti corporis scalpel'um adhi-
betur, atque integiæ; carnificina est ista, et crudelitas. Hi
medentur reipublicæ, qui exsecant pestem aliquam, tanquam
strumam civitatis.
To apply the knife to a sound and healthy part of the body is
butchery and cruelty, not real surgery.
Those are the true
physicians and surgeons of a state who cut off the pests of
society, like wens from the human body.
I AM diverted from the general subject of my dis-
courses, to reflect upon an event of a very extraor-
dinary and surprising nature. A great minister, in
high confidence with the queen, under whose ma-
nagement the weight of affairs at present is in a great
measure supposed to lie, sitting in council, in a
royal palace, with a dozen of the chief officers of the
state, is stabbed at the very board in the execution
of his office by the hand of a French papist, then
under examination for high treason; the assassin
redoubles his blow to make sure work, and, con-
cluding the chancellora was despatched, goes on
with the same rage to murder a principal secretary
of state; and that whole noble assembly are forced to
rise and draw their swords in their own defence, as
if a wild beast had been let loose among them.
This fact has some circumstances of aggravation
not to be paralleled by any of the like kind we meet
with in history. Cæsar's murder, being performed
in the senate, comes nearest to the case; but that
was an affair concerted by great numbers of the
chief senators, who were likewise the actors in it,
and not the work of a vile single ruffian. Harry the
Third of France was stabbed by an enthusiastic.
friar, whom he suffered to approach his person while
those who attended him stood at some distance.
His successor met the same fate in a coach, where
neither he nor his nobles, in such a confinement,
were able to defend themselves. In our own country
we have, I think, but one instance of this sort which
has made any noise; I mean that of Felton about
fourscore years ago, but he took the opportunity to
stab the duke of Buckingham in passing through a
dark lobby from one room to another. The blow
was neither seen nor heard, and the murderer might
have escaped if his own concern and horror, as it
is usual in such cases, had not betrayed him. Be-
Mr. Harley, then chancellor of the exchequer, afterward
Carl of Oxford.
Mr. Henry St. John, afterward lord Bolingbroke.
|
sides, that act of Felton will admit of some extenu-
ation, from the motives he is said to have had; but
this attempt of Guiscard seems to have outdone thei
all in every heightening circumstance, except the
difference of persons between a king and a great
m.nister: for I give no allowance at all to the differ-
ence of success (which, however, is yet uncertain
and depending), nor think it the least alleviation to
the crime, whatever it may be to the punishment.
I am sensible it is ill arguing from particulars to
generals, and that we ought not to charge upon a
nation the crimes of a few desperate villains it is so
unfortunate to produce; yet at the same time it must
be avowed that the French have, for these last cen-
turies, been somewhat too liberal of their daggers
upon the persons of their greatest men, such as the
admiral de Coligny, the dukes of Guise, father and
sun, and the two kings I last mentioned. I have
sometimes wondered how a people whose genius
seems wholly turned to singing and dancing and
prating, to vanity and impertinence; who lay so much
weight upon modes and gestures; whose essen-
tialities are generally so very superficial; who are
usually so serious upon trifles, and so trifling upon what
is serious, have been capable of committing such solid
villanies, more suitable to the gravity of a Spaniard,
or the silence and thoughtfulness of an Italian: un-
less it be, that in a nation naturally so full of them-
selves, and of so restless imaginations, when any of
them happen to be of a morose and gloomy consti-
tution, that huddle of confused thoughts, for want of
evaporating, usually terminates in rage or despair.
D'Avila observes that Jacques Clement was a sort
of buffoon, whom the rest of the friars used to make
sport with; but at last, giving his folly a serious
turn, it ended in enthusiasm, and qualified him for
that desperate act of murdering his king.
But in the marquis de Guiscard there seems to
have been a complication of ingredients for such an
attempt. He had committed several enormities in
France, was extremely prodigal and vicious, of a
dark melancholy complexion and cloudy counte-
nance, such as in vulgar physiognomy is called an
ill look. For the rest, his talents were very mean,
having a sort of inferior cunning, but very small
abilities; so that a great man of the late ministry,
by whom he was invited over, and with much dis-
cretion raised at first step from a profligate popish
priest to a lieutenant-general and colonel of a regi-
ment of horse, was at last forced to drop him for
shame.
Had such an accident happened under that minis-
try, and to so considerable a member of it, they
would have immediately charged it upon the whole
body of those they are pleased to call the faction.
This would have been styled a high-church principle;
the clergy would have been accused as promoters
and abettors of the fact; committees would have
been sent to promise the criminal his life provided
they might have liberty to direct and dictate his con-
fession; and a black list would have been printed
of all those who had been ever seen in the mur-
derer's company. But the present men in power
hate and despise all such detestable arts, which they
might now turn upon their adversaries with much
more plausibility than ever these did their honour-
able negotiations with Greg.b
And here it may be worth observing how unani-
• The monk who assassinated Henry III of France.
William Greg, au under clerk to Mr. secretary Harley, was
detected in a correspondence with Monsieur Chamillard, one of
the French king s ministers, to whom he transmitted the pro-
ceedings of both houses of parliament with respect to the aug-
mentation of the British forces and other paper, of great im-
porlance.
A
THE EXAMINER.
331
mous a concurrence there is between some persons
once in great power and a French papist; both
agreeing in the great end of taking away Mr. Har-
ley's life, though differing in their methods; the first
proceeding by subornation, the other by violence;
wherein Guiscard seems to have the advantage, as
aiming no further than his life, while the others
designed to destroy at once both that and his reputa-
tion. The malice of both against this gentleman
seems to have risen from the same cause-his dis-
covering designs against the government. It was
Mr. Harley who detected the treasonable correspond-
ence of Greg, and secured him betimes, when a
certain great man who shall be nameless had, out
of the depth of his politics, sent him a caution to
make his escape, which would certainly have fixed
the appearance of guilt upon Mr. Harley; but when
that was prevented, they would have enticed the con-
demned criminal with promise of a pardon, to write
and sign an accusation against the secretary: but, to
use Greg's own expression, his death was nothing
near so ignominious as would have been such a life
that must be saved by prostituting his conscience.
The same gentleman now lies stabbed by his other
enemy, a popish spy, whose treason he has discovered.
God preserve the rest of her majesty's ministers from
such protestants, and from such papists!
I shall take occasion to hint at some particularities
in this surprising fact for the sake of those at a dis-
tance, or who may not be thoroughly informed. The
murderer confessed in Newgate that his chief design
was against Mr. secretary St. John, who happened
to change seats with Mr. Harley for mer conve-
nience of examining the criminal: and being asked
what provoked him to stab the chancellor, he said
that, not being able to come at the secretary as he in-
tended, it was some satisfaction to murder the per-
son whom he thought Mr. St. John loved best.
And here, if Mr. Harley has still any eneraies left,
whom his blood spilt in the public service cannot re-
concile, I hope they will at least admire his magna-
nimity, which is a quality esteemed even in an ene-
my; and I think there are few greater instances of
it to be found in story. After the wound was given
he was observed neither to change his countenance
nor discover any concern or disorder in his speech.
He rose up and walked about the room while he was
able with the greatest tranquillity during the height of
the confusion. When the surgeon came, he took him
aside and desired he would inform him freely whether
the wound were mortal, because in that case he said
he had some affairs to settle relating to his family.
The blade of the penknife, broken by the violence.
of the blow against the rib, within a quarter of an
inch of the handle, was dropped out (I know not whe-
ther from the wound or his clothes) as the surgeon was
going to dress him: he ordered it to be taken up,
and wiping it himself gave it to somebody to keep,
saying he thought it now properly belonged to him.
He showed no sort of resentment, nor spoke one
violent word against Guiscard, but appeared all the
while the least concerned of any in the company;
a state of mind which in such an exigency nothing
but innocence cau give, and is truly worthy of a
christian philosopher.
If there be really so great a difference in principle
between the high-flying Whigs and the friends of
France, I cannot but repeat the question, how came
they to join in the destruction of the same man?
Can his death be possibly for the interest of both ?
Or have they both the same quarrel against him,
that he is perpetually discovering and preventing the
treacherous designs of our enemies? However it be,
this great minister may now say, with St. Paul, that
1
he has been in perils by his own countrymen, and in
perils by strangers.
In the midst of so melancholy a subject, I cannot
but congratulate with our own country that such a
savage monster as the marquis de Guiscard is none
of her production: a wretch perhaps more detestable
in his own nature than even this barbarous act has
For
been yet able to represent him to the world.
there are good reasons to believe, from several cir-
cumstances, that he had intentions of a deeper die
than those he happened to execute: I mean such as
He
every good subject must tremble to think on.
has of late been frequently seen going up the back
stairs at court, and walking alone in an outer room
He has
adjoining to her majesty's bedchamber.
often and earnestly pressed for some time to have
access to the queen, even since his correspondence
with France. And he has now given such a proof
of his disposition as leaves it easy to guess what was
before in his thoughts, and what he was capable of
attempting.
It is humbly to be hoped that the legislature will
interpose on so extraordinary an occasion as this,
and direct a punishment some way proportionable
to so execrable a crime.
Et quicunque tuum violavit vulnere corpus,
Morte luat meritâ-
No. 34.
THURSDAY, MARCH 22, 1711.
De libertate retinenda, qua certe nihil est dulcius, tibi assentior.
I agree with you in respect to your sentiments for preserving
our liberty, than which nothing can be more pleasing to a
human mind.
THE apologies of the ancient fathers are reckoned
to have been the most useful parts of their writings,
and to have done greatest service to the christian reli-
gion; because they removed those misrepresentations
which had done it most injury. The methods these
writers took were openly and freely to discover
every point of their faith, to detect the falsehood of
their accusers, and to charge nothing upon their ad-
versaries but what they were sure to make good.
This example has been ill followed of later times:
the papists, since the Reformation, using all arts to
palliate the absurdities of their tenets, and loading
the reformers with a thousand calumnies; the conse-
quence of which has been only a more various, wide,
and inveterate separation. It is the same thing in
civil schisms: a Whig forms an image of a Tory
just after the thing he most abhors, and that image
serves to represent the whole body.
I am not sensible of any material difference there
is between those who call themselves the old Whigs
and a great majority of the present Tories; at least
by all I could ever find from examining several per-
sons of each denomination. But it must be con-
fessed that the present body of Whigs, as they now
constitute that party, is a very odd mixture of man-
kind, being forced to enlarge their bottom by taking
in every heterodox professor, either in religicu or
government, whose opinions they were obliged to
encourage for fear of lessening their number; while
the bulk of the landed men and people were en-
tirely of the old sentiments. However, they still
pretended a due regard to the monarchy and the
church, even at the time when they were making
the largest steps toward the ruin of both; but, not
being able to wipe off the many accusations laid to
their charge, they endeavoured, by throwing scandal,
to make the Tories appear blacker than themselves
and so the people might join with them, as the
smaller evil of the two.
But among all the reproaches which the Whigs
$52
THE EXAMINER.
Lave flung upon their adversaries, there is none has
done them more service than that of passive obedi-
ence, as they represent it with the consequences of
non-resistance, arbitrary power, indefeasible right,
tyranny, popery, and what not. There is no accu-
sation which has passed with more plausibility than
this, or any that is supported with less justice. In
order, therefore, to undeceive those who have been
misled by false representations, I thought it would
be no improper undertaking to set this matter in a
fair light, which I think has not yet been done. A
Whig asks whether you hold passive obedience?
you affirm it.: he then immediately cries out, “You
are a Jacobite, a friend of France and the pre-
tender!" because he makes you answerable for the
definition he has formed of that term, however dif-
ferent it be from what you understand. I will,
therefore, give two descriptions of passive obedi-
ence; the first, as it is falsely charged by the
Whigs; the other, as it is really professed by the
Tories; at least by nineteen in twenty of all I ever
conversed with.
Passive obedience, as charged by the Whigs.
THE doctrine of passive obedience is, to believe
that a king, even in a limited monarchy, holding his
power only from God, is only answerable to him;
that such a king is above all law; that the cruelest
tyrant must be submitted to in all things; and if his
commands be ever so unlawful, you must neither
fly nor resist, nor use any other weapons than pray-
ers and tears. Although he should force your wife
and daughter, murder your children before your
face, or cut off five hundred heads in a morning for
his diversion, you are still to wish him a long, pros-
perous reign, and to be patient under all his cruel-
ties, with the same resignation as under a plague or
a famine; because to resist him would be to resist
God, in the person of his vicegerent. If a king of
England should go through the streets of London in
order to murder every man he met, passive obedi-
ence commands them to submit. All laws made to
limit him signify nothing, although passed by his
own consent, if he thinks fit to break them. God
will, indeed, call him to a severe account; but the
whole people, united to a man, cannot presume to
hold his hands, or offer him the least active disobe
dience the people were certainly created for him,
and not he for the people. His next heir, although
worse than what I have described, although a fool or
a madman, has a divine indefeasible right to succeed
him, which no law can disannul; nay, although he
should kill his father upon the throne, he is imme-
diately king to all intents and purposes; the posses-
sion of the crown wiping off all stains. But whoso-
ever sits on the throne without this title, though
ever so peaceably, and by consent of former kings
and parliaments, is a usurper while there is any-
where in the world another person who has a nearer
hereditary right; and the whole kingdom lies under
mortal sin till that heir be restored, because he has
a divine title which no human law can defeat.
with such consequences as these. Let us therefore
see what this doctrine is when stripped of such
misrepresentations, by describing it as really taught
and practised by the Tories; and then it will appear
what grounds our adversaries have to accuse us
upon this article.
Passive obedience, as professed and practised by the
Turies.
But
THEY think that in every government, whether
monarchy or republic, there is placed a supreme, ab-
solute, unlimited power, to which passive obedience
is due. That wherever is intrusted the power of
making laws, that power is without all bounds, can
repeal or enact at pleasure whatever laws it thinks
fit, and justly demand universal obedience and non-
resistance. That among us, as everybody knows,
this power is lodged in the king or queen, together
with the lords and commons of the kingdom; and,
therefore, all decrees whatsoever made by that
power are to be actively or passively obeyed. That
the administration, or executive part of this power,
is, in England, solely intrusted with the prince;
who in administering those laws ought to be no
more resisted than the legislative power itself.
they do not conceive the same absolute passive obe-
dience to be due to a limited prince's commands,
when they are directly contrary to the laws he has
consented to and sworn to maintain. The crown
may be sued as well as a private person; and if an
arbitrary king of England should send his officers to
seize my lands or goods against law, I can lawfully
resist them. The ministers by whom he acts are
liable to prosecution and impeachment, although his
own person be sacred. But, if he interpose royal
authority to support their insolence, I see no remedy
until it grows a general grievance, or until the body
of the people have reason to apprehend it will be so,
after which it becomes a case of necessity; and theu,
I suppose, a free people may assert their own rights,
yet without any violation to the person or lawful
power of the prince. But, although the Tories al-
low all this, and did justify it by the share they had
in the Revolution, yet they see no reason for enter-
Jing upon so ungrateful a subject, or raising contro-
versies upon it, as if we were in daily apprehensions
of tyranny, under the reign of so excellent a prin-
cess, and while we have so many laws of late years
made to limit the prerogative; when, according to
the judgment of those who know our constitution
best, things rather seem to lean to the other ex-
treme, which is equally to be avoided. As to the
succession, the Tories think an hereditary right to
be the best in its own nature, and most agreeable to
our old constitution; yet, at the same time, they al-
low it to be defeasible by act of parliament; and so
is Magna Charta too, if the legislature think fit:
which is a truth so manifest, that no man who un-
derstands the nature of government can be in doubt
concerning it.
These I take to be the sentiments of a great ma-
jority among the Tories with respect to passive obe-
This and a great deal more has, in a thousand dience and if the Whigs insist, from the writings
papers and pamphlets, been laid to that doctrine of or common talk of warm and ignorant men, to form
passive obedience which the Whigs are pleased to a judgment of the whole body, according to the first
charge upon us. This is what they are perpetually account I have here given, I will engage to produce
instilling into the people as the undoubted principle as many of their side who are utterly against passive
by which the present ministry and a great majority obedience even to the legislature; who will assert
in parliament do at this time proceed. This is what the last resort of power to be in the people, against
they accuse the clergy of delivering from the pulpits, those whom they have chosen and trusted as their
and of preaching up as a doctrine absolutely neces- representatives, with the prince at the head; and
Bary to salvation. And whoever affirms in general who will put wild improbable cases to show the
that passive obedience is due to the supreme power, reasonableness and necessity of resisting the legis
he is presently loaded by our candid adversaries Elative power in such imaginary junctures: than
THE EXAMINER.
333
which, however, nothing can be more idle; for I
dare undertake in any system of government, either
speculative or practic,
practic, that was ever yet in the
world, from Plato's Republic to Harrington's
Oceana, to put such difficulties as cannot be an-
swered.
All the other calumnies raised by the Whigs may
be as easily wiped off; and I have the charity to
wish they could as fully answer the just accusations
we have against them. Dodwell, Hickes, and
Lesley, are gravely quoted to prove that the Tories.
design to bring in the pretender; and if I should
quote them to prove that the same thing is intended
by the Whigs, it would be full as reasonable; since
I am sure they have at least as much to do with
Nonjurors as we. But our objections against the
Whigs are built upon their constant practice for
many years, whereof I have produced a hundred
instances, against any single one of which no an-
swer has yet been attempted, although I have been
curious enough to look into all the papers I could
meet with that are written against the Examiner;
such a task as, I hope, no man thinks I would under-
go for any other end but that of finding an oppor-
tunity to own and rectify my mistakes: as I would
be ready to do upon the call of the meanest adver
sary. Upon which occasion I shall take leave to add
a few words.
I flattered myself last Thursday, from the nature
of my subject, and the inoffensive manner I handled
it, that I should have one week's respite from those
merciless pens whose severity will some time break
my heart but I am deceived, and find them more
violent than ever. They charge me with two lies
and a blunder. The first lie is a truth, that Guis-
card was invited over; but it is of no consequence.
I do not tux it as a fault; such sort of men have
often been serviceable: I only blamed the indiscre-
tion of raising a profligate abbot, at the first step, to
a lieutenant-general and colonel of a regiment of
horse, without staying some reasonable time, as is
usual in such cases, until he had given some proofs
of his fidelity as well as of that interest and credit he
pretended to have in his country. But that is said
to be another lie; for he was a papist, and could not
have a regiment; however, this other lie is a truth
too; for a regiment he had, and paid by us to his
agent, Monsieur le Bas, for his use. The third is a
blunder; that I say Guiscard's design was against
Mr. secretary St. John, and yet my reasonings upon
it are as if it were personally against Mr. Harley.
But I say no such thing, and my reasonings are just.
I relate only what Guiscard said in Newgate, be-
cause it was a particularity the reader might be curi-
ous to know, and accordingly it lies in a paragraph
by itself, after my reflections; but I never meant to
be answerable for what Guiscard said, or thought it
of weight enough for me to draw conclusions thence,
when I had the address of both houses to direct me
better where it is expressly said that Mr. Harley's
fidelity to her majesty, and zeal for her service, have
drawn upon him the hatred of all the abettors of
popery and faction. This is what I believe, and what
I shall stick to.
But, alas! these are not the passages which have
raised so much fury against me. One or two mis-
takes in facts of no importance, or a single blunder,
would not have provoked them; they are not so
tender of my reputation as a writer. All their out-
rage is occasioned by those passages in that paper
which they do not in the least pretend to answer,
and with the utmost reluctancy are forced to men-
tion. They take abundance of pains to clear Guis-
card from a design against Mr. Harley's life. but
|
offer not one argument to clear their other friends,
who, in the business of Greg, were equally guilty of
the same design against the same person; whose
tongues were very swords, and whose penknives
were axes.
No. 35.
THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 1711.
Sunt hic etiam sua præmia landi ;
Sunt lachrymæ rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt.
See
The palm that virtue yields! in scenes like these
We trace humanity, and man with man
Related by the kindred sense of woe.
I BEGIN to be heartily weary of my employment as
Examiner; which I wish the ministry would consi-
der with half so much concern as I do, and assign
me some other, with less pains and a larger pension.
There may soon be a vacancy either on the bench,
in the revenue, or the army, and I am equally quali-
fied for each; but this trade of examining, I appre-
hend, may at one time or other go near to sour my
temper. I did lately propose that some of those in-
genious pens which are engaged on the other side
might be employed to succeed me; and I undertook
to bring them over for t'other crown; but it was an-
swered, that those gentlemen do much better ser-
vice in the stations where they are. It was added
that abundance of abuses yet remained to be laid
open to the world, which I had often promised to
do, but was too much diverted by other subjects that
came into my head. On the other side, the advices
of some friends, and the threats of many enemies, have
put me upon considering what would have become
of me if times should alter; this I have done very
maturely, and the result is, that I am in no manner
of pain. I grant that what I have said upon occa-
sion, concerning the late men in power, may be
called satire by some unthinking people, as long as
that faction is down; but if ever they come into
play again I must give them warning beforehand
that I shall expect to be a favourite, and that those
pretended advocates of theirs will be pilloried for
libellers. For I appeal to any man whether I
ever charged that party, or its leaders, with one sin-
gle action or design which (if we may judge by
their former practices) they will not openly profess,
be proud of, and score up for merit when they come
again to the head of affairs. I said they were inso-
lent to the queen; will they not value themselves
upon that as an argument to prove them bold
assertors of the people's liberty? I affirmed they
were against a peace; will they be angry with me
for setting forth the refinements of their politics, in
pursuing the only method left to preserve them in
power? I said they had involved the nation in
debts, and engrossed much of its money; they go
beyond me, and boast they have got it all, and the
credit too. I have urged the probability of their
intending great alterations in religion and govern-
ment; if they destroy both at their next coming,
will they not reckon my foretelling it rather as a
panegyric than an affront? I said they had formerly
a design against Mr. Harley's life; if they were now
in power would they not immediately cut off his
head, and thank me for justifying the sincerity of
their intentions? In short, there is nothing I ever
said of those worthy patriots which may not be as
well excused; therefore, as soon as they resume
their places I positively design to put in my claim;
and, I think, may do it with a much better grace
than many of that party who now make their court
to the present ministry. I know two or three great
men, at whose levees you may daily observe a score
834
THE EXAMINER.
of the most forward faces, which everybody is
ashamed of, except those who wear them. But I
conceive my pretensions will be upon a very differ-
ent foot. Let me offer a parallel case:-Suppose
king Charles the First had entirely subdued the
rebels at Naseby, and reduced the kingdom to his
obedience; whoever had gone about to reason from
the former conduct of those saints, that if the victory
had fallen on their side they would have murdered
their prince, destroyed monarchy and the church,
and made the king's party compound for their es-
tates as delinquents, would have been called a false
uncharitable libeller by those very persons who
afterward gloried in all this, and called it the work
of the Lord when they happened to succeed. I re-
member there was a person fined and imprisoned
for scandalum magnatum, because he said the duke
of York was a papist; but when that prince came
to be king, and made open profession of his religion,
he had the justice immediately to release his pri-
soner, who, in his opinion, had put a compliment
upon him, and not a reproach; and therefore colonel
Titus, who had warmly asserted the same thing in
parliament, was made a privy-counsellor.
Whigs begin to be convinced that we have been all
this while in the wrong hands, and that things are
now as they should be. And as the present house of
commons is the best representative of the nation that
has ever been summoned in our memories, so they
have taken care in their first session, by that noble
bill of qualification, that future parliaments should
be composed of landed men; and our properties lie
no more at the mercy of those who have none them-
selves, or at least only what is transient or imaginary.
If there be any gratitude in posterity, the memory
of this assembly will be always celebrated; if other-
wise, at least we, who share in the blessings they
derive to us, ought with grateful hearts to acknow-
ledge them.
I design in some following papers to draw up a
list (for I can do no more) of the great things this
parliament has already performed; the many abuses
they have detected; their justice in deciding elections
without regard to party; their cheerfulness and
address in raising supplies for the war, and at the
same time providing for the nation's debts; their
duty to the queen, and their kindness to the church.
In the mean time I cannot forbear mentioning
two particulars which, in my opinion, do discover
in some measure the temper of the present parlia-
ment, and bear analogy to those passages related by
Plutarch in the lives of certain great men, which,
as himself observes, although they be not of actions.
which make any great noise or figure in history, yet
give more light into the characters of persons than
we could receive from an account of their most re-
nowned achievements.
Something like this may be observed from two
late instances of decency and good nature in that
illustrious assembly I am speaking of. The first
was when, after that inhuman attempt upon Mr.
Harley, they were pleased to vote an address to the
queen, wherein they express their utmost detestation
of the fact, their high esteem and great concern for
that able minister, and justly impute his misfortunes
to that zeal for her majesty's service which had
drawn upon him the hatred of all the abettors of
popery and faction. I dare affirm that so distin-
By this rule, if that which for some politic rea-
sons is now called scandal upon the late ministry,
proves one day to be only an abstract of such a cha-
racter as they will assume and be proud of, I think I
may fairly offer my pretensions, and hope for their
favour; and I am the more confirmed in this notion
by what I have observed in those papers that come
out weekly against the Examiner. The authors are
perpetually telling me of my ingratitude to my mas-
ters; that I blunder and betray the cause, and write
with more bitterness against those who hire me than
against the Whigs. Now I took all this at first only
for so many strains of wit, and pretty paradoxes, to
divert the reader; but, upon further thinking, I find
they are serious. I imagined I had complimented
the present ministry for their dutiful behaviour to
the queen, for their love of the old constitution in
church and state, for their generosity and justice,
and for their desire of a speedy honourable peace ;
but it seems I am mistaken, and they reckon all this
for satire, because it is directly contrary to the prac-guishing a mark of honour and good will from such
tice of all those whom they set up to defend, and
utterly against all their notions of a good ministry.
Therefore I cannot but think they have reason ou
their side; for, suppose I should write the character
of an honest, a religious, and a learned man, and
send the first to Newgate, the second to the Grecian
coffeehouse, and the last to White's, would they not
all pass for satires, and justly enough, among the
companies to whom they were sent?
Having therefore employed several papers in such
sort of panegyric, and but very few on what they
understand to be satires, I shall henceforth upon
occasion be more liberal of the latter; of which they
are likely to have a taste in the remainder of this
present paper.
It is
Among all the advantages which the kingdom has
received by the late change of ministry, the greatest
must be allowed to be the calling of the present
parliament upon the dissolution of the last.
acknowledged that this excellent assembly has en-
tirely recovered the honour of parliaments, which
had been unhappily prostituted for some years past
by the factious proceedings of an unnatural majority,
in concert with a most corrupt administration.
is plain, by the present choice of members, that the
electors of England, when left to themselves, do
rightly understand their true interest. The moderate
Author of the tract against Oliver Cromwell. Killing no
Murder."
""
It
a parliament was more acceptable to a person of Mr.
Harley's generous nature than the most bountiful
grant that was ever yet made to a subject; as her
majesty's answer, filled with gracious expressions in
his favour, adds more to his real glory than any
titles she could bestow. The prince and represent-
atives of the whole kingdom join in their concern
for so important a life; these are the true rewards
of virtue; and this is the commerce between noble
spirits, in a coin which the giver knows where to
bestow, and the receiver how to value, although
neither avarice nor ambition would be able to com-
prehend its worth.
The other instance I intend to produce, of decency
and good nature in the present house of commons,
relates to their most worthy speaker; a who, having
unfortunately lost his eldest son, the assembly, moved
with a generous pity for so sensible an affliction,
adjourned themselves for a week, that so good a
servant for the public might have some interval to
wipe away a father's tears. And, indeeed, that gen-
tleman has too just an occasion for his grief, by the
death of a son who had already acquired so great a
reputation for every amiable quality, and who migh.
bave lived to be so great an honour and an orns-
ment to his ancient family.
Before I conclude, I must desire one favour of the
"William Bromley, esq., elected speaker Nov. 23, 17'0 ; and
win of the privy council June 23, 1711.
THE EXAMINER.
335
reader;
that, when he thinks it worth his while to
peruse any paper written against the Examiner, he
will not form his judgment by any mangled quota-
tion out of it which he finds in such papers, but be
so just as to read the paragraph referred to, which I
am confident will be found a sufficient answer to all
that ever those papers can object; at least I have
seen above fifty of them, and never yet observed one
single quotation transcribed with common candour.
No. 36.
THURSDAY, APRIL 5, 1711.
Nullo suo peccato impediantur, quo minus alterius peccata
demonstrare possint.
No fault or crime in themselves hinders them from searching
into and pointing out the faults of others.
I HAVE been considering the old constitution of this
kingdom; comparing it with the monarchies and
republics whereof we meet so many accounts in an-
cient story, and with those at present in most parts
of Europe. I have considered our religion, esta-
blished here by the legislature soon after the Reform-
ation. I have likewise examined the genius and
disposition of the people under that reasonable free-
dom they possess. Then I have turned my reflec-
tions upon those two great divisions of Whig and
Tory (which some way or other take in the whole
kingdom), with the principles they both profess, as
well as those wherewith they reproach one another.
From all this I endeavour to determine from which
side her present majesty may reasonably hope for
most security to her person and government, and to
which she ought in prudence to trust the adminis-
tration of her affairs. If these two rivals were really
no more than parties according to the common ac-
ceptation of the word, I should agree with those poli-
ticians who think a prince descends from his dignity
by putting himself at the head of either, and that his
wisest course is to keep them in a balance, raising
or depressing either as it best suits with his designs.
But when the visible interest of his crown and king-
dom lies on one side, and when the other is but a
faction, raised and strengthened by incidents and
intrigues, and by deceiving the people with false
representations of things, he ought in prudence to
take the first opportunity of opening his subjects'
eyes, and declaring himself in favour of those who
are for preserving the civil and religious rights of the
nation, wherewith his own are so interwoven.
This was certainly our case: for I do not take the
heads, advocates, and followers of the Whigs, to
make up, strictly speaking, a national party; being
patched up of heterogeneous, inconsistent parte,
whom nothing served to unite but the common in-
terest of sharing in the spoil and plunder of the
people; the present dread of their adversaries, by
whom they apprehended to be called to an account;
and that general conspiracy of endeavouring to over-
turn the church and state, which, however, if they
could have compassed, they would certainly have
fallen out among themselves, and broke in pieces,
as their predecessors did after they destroyed the
monarchy and religion. For how could a Whig,
who is against all discipline, agree with a presby-
terian, who carries it higher than the papists them-
selves? How could a Socinian adjust his models to
either? Or how could any of these cement with a
deist, or freethinker, when they came to consult
upon points of faith? Neither would they have
agreed better in their systems of government, where
some would have been for a king under the limit-
ations of a duke of Venice; others for a Dutch re-
public; a third party for an aristocracy; and most'
of all for some new fabric of their own contriving.
But, however, let us consider them as a party, and
under those general tenets wherein they agreed and
which they publicly owned, without charging them
with any that they pretend to deny. Then, let us
examine those principles of the Tories which their
adversaries allow them to profess, and do not pretend
to tax them with any actions contrary to those pro-
fessions after which, let the reader judge which of
these two parties a prince has most to fear; and
whether her majesty did not consider the ease, the
safety, and dignity of her person, the security of her
crown, and the transmission of monarchy to her
protestant successors, when she put her affairs into
the present hands.
Suppose the matter were now entire, the queen to
make her choice, and for that end should order the
principles on both sides to be fairly laid before her.
First, I conceive the Whigs would grant that they
have naturally no very great veneration for crowned
heads; that they allow the person of the prince may,
upon many occasions, be resisted by arms; and they
do not condemn the war raised against king Charles
the First, or own it to be a rebellion, although they
would be thought to blame his murder. They do
not think the prerogative to be yet sufficiently
limited, and have therefore taken care (as a par-
ticular mark of their veneration for the illustrious
house of Hanover) to clip it still closer against the
next reign; which consequently they would be glad
to see done in the present; not to mention that the
majority of them, if it were put to the vote, would
allow that they prefer a commonwealth before a
monarchy. As to religion, their universal undis-
puted maxim is, that it ought to make no distinction
at all among protestants; and in the word pro-
testant they include everybody who is not a papist,
and who will by an oath give security to the govern-
ment. Union in discipline and doctrine, the offen-
sive sin of schism, the notion of a church and a
hierarchy, they laugh at, as foppery, cant, and priest-
craft. They see no necessity at all that there should
be a national faith; and what we usually call by that
name they only style "the religion of the magis-
trate." Since the dissenters and we agree in the
main, why should the difference of a few speculative
points or modes of dress incapacitate them from
serving their prince and country in a juncture when
we ought to have all hands up against the common
enemy? And why should they be forced to take the
sacrament from our clergy's hands, and in our pos-
ture; or, indeed, why compelled to receive it at all,
when they take an employment which has nothing
to do with religion?
These are the notions which most of that party
avow, and which they do not endeavour to disguise
or set off with false colours, or complain of being
misrepresented about. I have here placed them on
purpose in the same light which themselves do in
the very apologies they make for what we accuse
them of; and how inviting even these doctrines are
for such a monarch to close with, as our law, both
statute and common, understands a king of England
to be, let others decide. But then, if to these we
should add other opinions, which most of their own
writers justify, and which their universal practice
has given a sanction to, they are no more than what
a prince might reasonably expect as the natural con-
sequence of those avowed principles. For when
such persons are at the head of affairs, the low
opinion they have of princes will certainly lead them
to violate that respect they ought to bear; and at the
same time their own want of duty to their sovereign
336
THE EXAMINER.
is largely made up by exacting greater submissions |
to themselves from their fellow-subjects; it being
indisputably true that the same principle of pride
and ambition makes a man treat his equals with in-
solence in the same proportion as he affronts his
superiors; as both prince and people have sufficiently
felt from the late ministry.
Then, from their confessed notions of religion, as
above related, I see no reason to wonder why they
countenanced not only all sorts of dissenters, but
the several gradations of freethinkers among us, all
which are openly enrolled in their party; nor why
they were so averse from the present established form
of worship, which, by prescribing obedience to princes
from the topic of conscience, would be sure to thwart
all their schemes of innovation.
One thing I might add, as another acknowledged
maxim in that party, and in my opinion as dangerous
to the constitution as any I have mentioned; I mean
that of preferring on all occasions the moneyed inter-
est before the landed; which they were so far from
denying, that they would gravely debate the reason-
ableness and justice of it; and, at the rate they went
on, might in a little time have found a majority of
representatives fitly qualified to lay those heavy bur-
dens on the rest of the nation which themselves
would not touch with one of their fingers.
However, to deal impartially, there are soine mo-
tives which might compel a prince, under the neces-
sity of affairs, to deliver himself over to that party.
They were said to possess the great bulk of cash, and
consequently of credit in the nation; and the heads
of them had the reputation of presiding over those
societies who have the great direction of both; so
that all applications for loans to the public service,
upon any emergency, must be made through them;
and it might prove highly dangerous to disoblige
them, because, in that case, it was not to be doubted
that they would be obstinate and malicious, ready
to obstruct all affairs, not only by shutting their own
purses, but by endeavouring to sink credit, although
with some present imaginary loss to themselves, only
to show it was a creature of their own.
From this summary of Whig principles and dis-
positions we find what a prince may reasonably fear
and hope from that party. Let us now very briefly
consider the doctrines of the Tories, which their
adversaries will not dispute. As they prefer a well-
regulated monarchy before all other forms of govern-
ment, so they think it next to impossible to alter
that institution here without involving our whole
island in blood and desolation. They believe that
the prerogative of a sovereign ought at least to be
held as sacred and inviolable as the rights of his
people; if only for this reason, because, without a
due share of power, he will not be able to protect
them. They think that by many known laws of
this realm, both statute and common, neither the
person nor lawful authority of the prince ought,
upon any pretence whatsoever, to be resisted or dis-
obeyed. Their sentiments in relation to the church
are known enough, and will not be controverted,
being just the reverse to what I have delivered as
the doctrine and practice of the Whigs upon that
article.
But here I must likewise deal impartially too,
and add one principle as a characteristic of the
Tories which has much discouraged some princes
from making use of them in affairs. Give the Whigs
but power enough to insult their sovereign, engross
his favours to themselves, and to oppress and plunder
their fellow-subjects; they presently grow into good
humour and good language toward the crown; pro-
fess they will stand by it with their lives and fortunes;
|
|
a
and, whatever rudenesses they may be guilty of
private, yet they assure the world that there never
was so gracious a monarch. But to the shame of
the Tories it must be confessed that nothing of all
this has been ever observed in them; in or out of
favour, you see no alteration further than a little
cheerfulness or cloud in their countenances; the
highest employments can add nothing to their loy-
alty; but their behaviour to their prince, as wel. as
their expressions of love and duty, are in all condi-
tions exactly the same.
Having thus impartially stated the avowed prin-
ciple of Whig and Tory, let the reader determine as
he pleases to which of these two a wise prince may,
with most safety to himself and the public, trust his
person and his affairs: and whether it were rashness
or prudence in her majesty to make those changes
in the ministry which have been so highly extolled
by some and condemned by others.
No. 37.
THURSDAY, APRIL 12, 1711.
Tres species tam dissimiles, tria talia texta,
Una dies dedit exitio
Sach different forms of various threads combin'd,
One day destroy d, in common ruin join'd.
I WRITE this paper for the sake of the dissenters,
whom I take to be the most spreading branch of the
Whig party that professes christianity, and the only
one that seems to be zealous for any particular sys-
tem of it; the bulk of those we call the Low Church
being generally indifferent and undetermined in that
point, and the other subdivisions having not yet
taken either the Old or the New Testament into
their scheme. By the dissenters therefore it will
easily be understood that I mean the presbyterians,
as they include the sects of anabaptists, independents,
and others, which have been melted down into them
since the Restoration. This sect, in order to make
itself national, having gone so far as to raise a rebel-
lion, murder their king, destroy monarchy and the
church, was afterward broken in pieces by its own
divisions, which made way for the king's return
from his exile. However, the zealous among them
did still entertain hopes of recovering the dominion
of grace: whereof I have read a remarkable passage
in a book published about the year 1661, and written
by one of their own side. As one of the regicides
was going to his execution, a friend asked him whe-
ther he thought the cause would revive? He an-
swered, The cause is in the bosom of Christ; and as
sure as Christ rose from the dead, so sure will the
cause revive also. And therefore the Nonconformists
were strictly watched, and restrained by penal laws,
during the reign of king Charles the Second; the court
and kingdom looking on them as a faction, ready to
join in any design against the government in church
or state. And surely this was reasonable enough
while so many continued alive who had voted, and
fought, and preached against both, and gave no proof
that they had changed their principles. The Non-
conformists were then exactly upon the same foot
with our Nonjurors now, whom we double-tax, for-
bid their conventicles, and keep under hatches, with-
out thinking ourselves possessed with a persecuting
spirit, because we know they want nothing but the
power to ruin us. This, in my opinion, should al-
together silence the dissenters' complaints of per-
secution under king Charles the Second, or make
them show us wherein they differed at that time
from what our Jacobites are now.
Their inclinations to the church were soon dis-
covered when king James the Second succeedel to
}
THE EXAMINER.
337
the crown; with whom they unanimously joined in
its ruin, to revenge themselves for that restraint they
had most justly suffered in the foregoing reign; not
from the persecuting temper of the clergy, as their
clamours would suggest, but the prudence and caution
of the legislature. The same indulgence against
law was made use of by them and the papists; and
they amicably employed their power, as in defence of
one common interest.
But the revolution happening soon after served to
wash away the memory of the rebellion; upon which
the run against popery was no doubt as just and
seasonable as that of fanaticism after the restoration:
and the dread of popery being then our latest danger,
and consequently the most fresh upon our spirits, all
mouths were open against that; the dissenters were
rewarded with an indulgence by law; the rebellion
and king's murder were now no longer a reproach;
the former was only a civil war, and whoever durst
call it a rebellion was a Jacobite and friend to
France. This was the more unexpected, because,
the revolution being wholly brought about by church-
of-England hands, they hoped one good consequence
of it would be the relieving us from the encroach-
ments of dissenters as well as those of papists; since
both had equally confederated toward our ruin: and
therefore when the crown was new settled, it was
hoped at least that the rest of the constitution would
be restored. But this affair took a very different
turn; the dissenters had just made a shift to save a
tide and join with the prince of Orange, when they
found all was desperate with their protector king
James; and observing a party then forming against
the old principles in church and state under the
name of Whigs and low churchmen, they listed
themselves of it, where they have ever since con-
tinued. It is therefore upon the foot they now are
that I would apply myself to them and desire they
would consider the different circumstances at present
from what they were under when they began their
designs against the church and monarchy about
seventy years ago. At that juncture they made up
the body of the party; and whosoever joined with
them from principles of revenge, discontent, ambi-
tion, or love of change, were all forced to shelter
under their denomination; united heartily in the
pretences of a farther and purer reformation in reli-
gion and of advancing the great work (as the cant
was then) that God was about to do in these nations;
received the systems of doctrine and discipline pre-
scribed by the Scots, and readily took the covenant;
so that there appeared no division among them till
after the common enemy was subdued.
But now their case is quite otherwise: and I can
hardly think it worth being of a party upon the terms
they have been received of late years.
For suppose
the whole faction should at length succeed in their
design of destroying the church; are they so weak
as to imagine that the new modelling of religion
would be put into their hands? would their brethren,
the low churchmen and freethinkers, submit to their
discipline, their synods, and their classes; and divide
the lands of bishops, or deans and chapters, among
them ? How can they help observing that their
allies, instead of pretending more sanctity than other
men, are some of them for levelling all religion, and
the rest for abolishing it? Is it not manifest that
they have been treated by their confederates exactly
after the same manner as they were by king James
the Second; made instruments to ruin the church;
not for their own sakes, but under a pretended
project of universal freedom in opinion to advance
the dark designs of those who employ them?
excepting the antimonarchical principle and a few
VOL. I.
For
false notions about liberty, I see but little agree-
ment between them; and even in these I believe it
would be impossible to contrive a frame of govern-
ment that would please them all if they had it now
in their power to try. But however, to be sure, the
presbyterian institution would never obtain. For
suppose they should, in imitation of their predeces-
sors, propose to have no king but our Saviour Christ :
the whole clan of freethinkers would immediately
object and refuse his authority.
Neither would
their low church brethren use them better, as well
knowing what enemies they are to that doctrine of
unlimited toleration wherever they are suffered to
preside. So that upon the whole I do not see, as
their present circumstances stand, where the dissent-
ers can find better quarter than from the church of
England.
Besides, I leave it to their consideration whether,
with all their zeal against the church, they ought not
to show a little decency; and how far it consists
with their reputation to act in concert with such
confederates. It was reckoned a very infamous pro-
ceeding in the present most christian king to assist
the Turk against the emperor: policy and reasons of
state were not allowed sufficient excuses for taking
It is one of
part with an infidel against a believer.
the dissenters' quarrels against the church that she
is not enough reformed from popery; yet they boldly
entered into a league with papists and a popish
prince to destroy her. They profess much sanctity,
and object against the wicked lives of some of our
members; yet they have been long and still continue
in strict combination with libertines and atheists to
contrive our ruin. What if the Jews should multi-
ply and become a formidable party among us?
Would the dissenters join in alliance with them
likewise because they agree already in some general
principles, and because the Jews are allowed to be a
stiffnecked and rebellious people?
It is the part of wise men to conceal their passions
when they are not in circumstances of exerting them
to purpose: the arts of getting power and preserving
indulgence are very different. For the former the
reasonable hopes of the dissenters seem to be at an
end; their comrades, the Whigs and freethinkers,
are just in a condition proper to be forsaken; and
the parliament, as well as the body of the people,
will be deluded no longer. Besides, it sometimes
happens for a cause to be exhausted and worn out,
as that of the Whigs in general seems at present to
be; the nation had felt enough of it. It is as vain
to hope restoring that decayed interest as for a man
of sixty to talk of entering on a new scene of life.
that is only proper for youth and vigour. New cir
cumstances and new men must arise, as well as new
occasions, which are not likely to happen in our time.
So that the dissenters have no game left at present
but to secure their indulgence in order to which I
will be so bold as to offer them some advice.
First, That until some late proceedings are a little
forgot, they would take care not to provoke, by any
violence of tongue or pen, so great a majority as there
is now against them; nor keep up any longer that
combination with their broken allies; but disperse
themselves, and lie dormant against some better op-
nortunity. I have shown they could have got no
advantage if the late party had prevailed; and they
will certainly lose none by its fall unless through
their own fault. They pretend a mighty veneration
for the queen; let them give proof of it by quitting
the ruined interest of those who have used her so
ill; and by a due respect to the persons she is pleased
to trust at present with her affairs. When they can
no longer hope to govern, when struggling can do
338
THE EXAMINER
them no good, and may possibly hurt them, what is
left but to be silent and passive?
Secondly, Although there be no law (beside that
of God Almighty) against occasional conformity, it
would be prudence in the dissenters to use it as
tenderly as they can: for beside the infamous hypo-
crisy of the thing itself, too frequent practice would
perhaps make a remedy necessary.
And after all
they have said to justify themselves in this point, it
still continues hard to conceive how those consciences
can pretend to be scrupulous upon which an em-
ployment has more power than the love of unity.
In the last place, I am humbly of opinion that the
dissenters would do well to drop that lesson they
have learned from their directors, of affecting to be
under horrible apprehensions that the Tories are in
the interest of the pretender, and would be ready to
embrace the first opportunity of inviting him over.
It is with the worst grace in the world that they offer
to join in the cry upon this article; as if those who
alone stood in the gap against all the encroachments
of popery and arbitrary power are not more likely to
keep out both than a set of schismatics; who, to
gratify their ambition and revenge, did, by the
meanest compliances, encourage and spirit up that
unfortunate prince to fall upon such measures as
must at last have ended in the ruin of our liberty
and religion.
P. S.-I wish those who give themselves the trouble
to write to the Examiner would consider whether
what they send would be proper for such a paper to
take notice of. I had one letter last week, written
as I suppose by a divine, to desire I would offer
some reasons against a bill now before the parliament
for ascertaining the tithe of hops; from which the
writer apprehends great damage to the clergy, espe-
cially the poorer vicars. If it be as he says (and he
seems to argue very reasonably upon it), the convoca-
tion now sitting will, no doubt, upon due application,
represent the matter to the house of commons; and
he may expect all justice and favour from that great
body, who have already appeared so tender of their
rights.
A gentleman likewise who has sent me several
letters relating to personal hardships he received from
some of the late ministry, is advised to publish a
narrative of them, they being too large and not pro-
per
for this paper.
No. 38.
THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 1711.
Semper causæ eventorum magis movent quam ipsa eveuta.
We are always more moved at the causes of events than at the
events themselves.
I AM glad to observe that several among the Whigs
have begun very much to change their language of
late. The style is now among the reasonable part
of them, when they meet a man in business, or a
member of parliament, Well, gentlemen, if you go on
as you have hitherto done, we shall no longer have
any pretence to complain: they find it seems that
there have been yet no overtures made to bring in the
pretender, nor any preparatory steps toward it. They
read no enslaving votes, nor bills brought in to en-
danger the subject. The indulgence to scrupulous
consciences is again confirmed from the throne, invio-
lably preserved, and not the least whisper offered
that may affect it.
affect it. All care is taken to support the
war; supplies cheerfully granted, and funds readily
subscribed to, in spite of the little arts made use of
to discredit them. The just resentments of some,
which are laudable in themselves, and to which at
another juncture it might be proper to give way,
have been softened or diverted by the calmness of
others; so that, upon the article of present manage-
ment, I do not see how any objection of weight can
well be raised.
However, our adversaries still allege that this great
success was wholly unexpected, and out of all pro-
bable view; that in public affairs we ought least of
all others to judge by events; that the attempt of
changing a ministry during the difficulties of a long
war was rash and inconsiderate; that if the queen
were disposed, by her inclinations, or from any per-
sonal dislike, for such a change, it might have been
done with more safety in a time of peace; that if it
had miscarried by any of those incidents which in
all appearance might have intervened, the conse-
quences would perhaps have ruined the whole confe-
deracy; and therefore, however it has now succeeded,
the experiment was too dangerous to try.
But this is what we can by no means allow them.
We never will admit rashness or chance to have
produced all this harmony and order. It is visible
to the world that the several steps toward this change
were slowly taken, and with the utmost caution.
The movers observed, as they went on, how matters.
would bear; and advanced no further at first than
so as they might be able to stop or go back if circum-
stances were not mature. Things were grown to
such a height that it was no longer the question
whether a person who aimed at an employment were
a Whig or Tory; much less whether he had merit
or proper abilities for what he pretended to: he
must owe his preferment only to the favourites; and
the crown was so far from nominating, that they
would not allow it a negative. This the queen was
resolved no longer to endure; and began to break
into their prescription, by bestowing one or two
places of consequence, without consulting her ephori,
after they had fixed them for others, and concluded
as usual that all their business was to signify their
pleasure to her majesty. But although the persons
the queen had chosen were such as no objection
could well be raised against upon the score of party,
yet the oligarchy took the alarm; their sovereign.
authority was it seems called in question; they
grew into anger and discontent, as if their undoubted
rights were violated. All former obligations to their
sovereign now became cancelled; and they put them-
selves upon the foot of the people who are hardly
used after the most eminent services.
I believe all men who know anything in politics
will agree that a prince thus treated by those he has
most confided in, and perpetually loaded with his
favours, ought to extricate himself as soon as possi-
ble, and is then only blamable in his choice of
time when he defers one minute after it is in his
power; because, from the monstrous encroachments
of exorbitant avarice and ambition, he cannot tell
how long it may continue to be so. And it will be
found upon inquiring into history that most of those
princes who have been ruined by favourites have
owed their misfortune to the neglect of earlier
remedies; deferring to struggle until they were
quite sunk.
The Whigs are every day cursing the ungovern-
able rage, the haughty pride, and insatiable covetous-
ness of a certain person, as the cause of their fall;
and are apt to tell their thoughts, that one single
removal might have set all things right. But the
interests of that single person were found, upon ex-
perience, so complicated and woven with the rest,
by love, by awe, by marriage, by alliance, that they
would rather confound heaven and earth than dissolve
such an union.
I have always heard and understood that a king of
THE EXAMINER.
339
England, possessed of his people's hearts, at the head
of a free parliament, and in full agreement with a
great majority, made the true figure in the world that
such a monarch ought to do, and pursued the real
interest of himself and his kingdom. Will they
allow her majesty to be in those circumstances at
present? And was it not plain, by the addresses
sent from all parts of the island, and by the visible
disposition of the people, that such a parliament
would undoubtedly be chosen? and so it proved,
without the court's using any arts to influence elec-
tions.
What people then are these in a corner to whom
the constitution must truckle? If the whole nation's
credit cannot supply funds for the war without hum-
ble applications from the entire legislature to a few
retailers of money, it is high time we should sue for
a peace.
What new maxims are these, which nei-
ther we nor our forefathers ever heard of before, and
which no wise institution would ever allow ? must
our laws from henceforward pass the Bank and East
India Company, or have their royal assent before
they are in force?
To hear some of those worthy reasoners talking of
credit, that she is so nice, so squeamish, so capri-
cious, you would think they were describing a lady
troubled with vapours or the cholic, to be removed
only by a course of steel, or swallowing a bullet.
By the narrowness of their thoughts, one would
imagine they conceived the world to be no wider
than Exchange-alley. It is probable they may have
such a sickly dame among them; and it is well if she
has no worse diseases, considering what hands she
passes through. But the national credit is of another
complexion; of sound health and an even temper;
her life and existence being a quintessence drawn
from the vitals of the whole kingdom; and we find
these money politicians, after all their noise, to be of
the same opinion, by the court they paid her when
she lately appeared to them in the form of a lottery.
As to that mighty error in politics they charge
upon the queen for changing her ministry in the
height of war, I suppose it is only looked upon as
an error under a Whiggish administration: other-
wise the late king had much to answer for, who did
it pretty frequently. And it is well known that the
late ministry, of famous memory, was brought in
during the present war: only with this circumstance,
that two or three of the chief did first change their
own principles, and then took in suitable compa-
nions.
But, however, I see no reason why the Tories
should not value their wisdom by events as well as
the Whigs. Nothing was ever thought a more pre.
cipitate, rash counsel, than that of altering the coin at
the juncture it was done; yet the prudence of the
undertaking was sufficiently justified by the success.
Perhaps it will be said that the attempt was neces-
sary, because the whole species of money was so
grievously clipped and counterfeit and is not her
majesty's authority as sacred as her coin? And has
not that been most scandalously clipped and mangled,
and often counterfeited too?
It is another grievous complaint of the Whigs,
that their late friends and the whole party are treated
with abundance of severity in print, and in particular
by the Examiner. They think it hard that, when
they are wholly deprived of power, hated by the
people, and out of all hope of establishing themselves,
their infirmities should be so often displayed, in
order to render them yet more odious to mankind.
This is what they employ their writers to set forth
in their papers of the week; and it is humorous
enough to observe one page taken up in railing at
the Examiner for his invectives against a discarded
ministry; and the other side filled with the falsest
and vilest abuses against those who are now in the
highest power and credit with their sovereign, and
whose least breath would scatter them in silence and
obscurity. However, although I have indeed often
wondered to see so much licentiousness taken and
connived at, and am sure it would not be suffered in
any other country of Christendom, yet I never once
invoked the assistance of the gaol or pillory, which,
upon the least provocation, was the usual style during
their tyranny. There has not passed a week these
twenty years without some malicious paper scattered
in every coffeehouse by the emissaries of that party,
whether it were down or up. I believe they will not
pretend to object the same thing to us: nor do I re-
member any constant weekly paper with reflections on
the late ministry or junto. They have many weak de-
fenceless parts; they have not been used to a regular
attack, and therefore it is that they are so il able to
endure one when it comes to be their turn; so that
they complain more of a few months' truths from us
than we did of all their scandal and malice for twice
as many years.
I cannot forbear observing upon this occasion
that those worthy authors I am speaking of seem to
me not fairly to represent the sentiments of their
party;
party; who, in disputing with us, do generally give
up several of the late ministry, and freely own many
of their failings. They confess the monstrous debt
upon the navy to have been caused by most scandal-
ous mismanagement; they allow the insolence of
some, the avarice of others, to have been insupport-
able; but these gentlemen are most liberal in their
praises to those
persons and upon those very articles
where their wisest friends give up the point. They
gravely tell us that such a one was the most faithful
servant that ever any prince had; another the most
dutiful; a third, the most generous; a fourth, of the
greatest integrity; so that I look upon these cham-
pions rather as retained by a cabal than a party;
which I desire the reasonable men among them
would please to consider.
No. 39.
THURSDAY, APRIL 26, 1711.
Indignum est in ea civitate, quæ legibus continetur, discedi a
legibus.
It is shameful and unworthy in a state, whose support and pre-
servation is founded on laws, that the laws should be rendered
nseless and evaded.
I HAVE been often considering how it comes to pass
that the dexterity of mankind in evil should always
outgrow, not only the prudence and caution of pri-
vate persons, but the continual expedience of the
wisest laws contrived to prevent it. I cannot ima-
gine a knave to possess a greater share of natural
wit or genius than an honest man. I have known
very notable sharpers at play, who upon other occa-
sions were as great dunces as human shape can well
allow; and I believe the same might be observed
among the other knots of thieves and pickpockets
about this town. The proposition however is cer-
tainly truc, and to be confirmed by a hundred in-
stances. A scrivener, an attorney, a stock-jobber,
and many other retailers of fraud, shall not only
be able to overreach others much wiser than them-
selves, but find out new inventions to elude the force
of any law made against them. I suppose the rea-
son of this may be, that, as the aggressor is said te
have generally the advantage of the defender, so the
makers of the law, which is to defend our rights,
have usually not so much industry or vigour as those
z 2
340
THE EXAMINER.
whose interest leads them to attack it. Besides, it
rarely happens that men are rewarded by the public
for their justice and virtue; neither do those who act
upon such principles expect any recompence until
the next world; whereas fraud, where it succeeds,
gives present pay; and this is allowed the greatest
spur imaginable both to labour and invention.
When a law is made to stop some growing evil, the
wits of those whose interest it is to break it with
secrecy or impunity are immediately at work; and
even among those who pretend to fairer characters,
many would gladly find means to avoid what they
would not be thought to violate. They desire to
reap the advantage, if possible, without the shame,
or at least without the danger., This art is what I
take that dexterous race of men, sprung up soon after
the Revolution, to have studied with great application
ever since, and to have arrived at great perfection
in. According to the doctrine of some Romish
casuists, they have found out quam propè ad peccatum
sine peccato possint accedere; they can tell how to
go within an inch of an impeachment, and yet come
back untouched. They know what degree of cor-
ruption will just forfeit an employment, and whether
the bribe you receive be sufficient to set you right,
and put something in your pocket besides; how
much to a penny you may safely cheat the queen,
whether forty, fifty, or sixty per cent., according to
the station you are in, and the dispositions of the per-
sons in office below and above you. They have com
puted the price you may securely take or give for a
place, or what part of the salary you ought to reserve;
they can discreetly distribute five hundred pounds in
a small borough, without any danger from the sta-
tutes against bribing at elections. They can manage
a bargain for an office by a third, fourth, or fifth hand,
so that you shall not know whom to accuse; they
can win a thousand guineas at play in spite of the
dice, and send away the loser satisfied. They can
pass the most exorbitant accounts, overpay the creditor
with half his demands and sink the rest.
It would be endless to relate, or rather indeed
impossible to discover, the several arts which curious
men have found out to enrich themselves by de-
frauding the public, in defiance of the law. The
military men, both by sea and land, have equally
cultivated this most useful science; neither has it
been altogether neglected by the other sex; of
which, on the contrary, I could produce an instance
that would make ours biush to be so far outdone.
Besides, to confess the truth, our laws themselves
are extremely defective in many articles, which I
take to be one ill effect of our best possession, liberty.
Some years ago the ambassador of a great princea
was arrested, and outrages committed on his person
in our streets, without any possibility of redress from
Westminster-hall or the prerogative of the sove-
reign; and the legislature was forced to provide a
remedy against the like evils in time to come. A
commissioner of the stamped paper was lately dis-
covered to have notoriously cheated the public of
great sums for many years, by counterfeiting the
stamps, which the law has made capital; but the
aggravation of his crime proved to be the cause that
saved his life, and that additional heightening cir-
cumstance of betraying his trust was found to be a
legal defence. I am assured that the notorious
cheat of the brewers at Portsmouth, detected about
two months ago in parliament, cannot by any law
now in force be punished in any degree equal to the
guilt and infamy of it. Nay, what is almost in-
a To Peter the Great, czar of Muscovy, who was arrested for
debt by a merchant of London in the open street, and detained
ta a sponging-house.
credible, had Guiscard survived his detestable attempt
upon Mr. Harley's person, all the inflaming circum-
stances of the fact would not have sufficed, in the
opinion of many lawyers, to have punished him
with death; and the public must have lain under
this dilemma, either to condemn him by a law ex
post facto (which would have been of dangerous con-
sequence, and form an ignominious precedent), or
undergo the mortification to see the greatest villain
upon earth escape unpunished, to the infinite triumph
and delight of popery and faction. But even this is
not to be wondered at when we consider that, of all
the insolences offered to the queen since the act of
indemnity (at least that ever came to my ears), I can
hardly instance above two or three which by the
letter of the law could amount to high treason.
From these defects in our laws, and the want of
some discretionary power, safely lodged, to exert upon
emergencies, as well as from the great acquirements
of able men to elude the penalties of those laws they
break, it is no wonder that the injuries done to the
public are so seldom redressed. But, besides, no
individual suffers by any wrong he does to the com-
monwealth in proportion to the advantage he gains
by doing it. There are seven or eight millions who
contribute to the loss, while the whole gain is sunk
among a few. The damage suffered by the public
is not so immediately or heavily felt by particular
persons; and the zeal of prosecutions is apt to drop
and be lost among numbers.
But imagine a set of politicians for many years at
the head of affairs, the game visibly their own, and
by consequence acting with great security; may not
these be sometimes tempted to forget their caution.
by length of time, by excess of avarice and ambition,
by the insolence or violence of their nature, or, per-
haps, by a mere contempt for their adversaries?
May not such motives as these put them often upon
actions directly against the law, such as no evasions
can be found for, and which will lay them fully open
to the vengeance of a prevailing interest whenever
they are out of power? It is answered in the af-
firmative. And here we cannot refuse the late
ministry their due praises, who, foreseeing a storm,
provided for their own safety by two admirable expe-
dients, by which, with great prudence, they have
escaped the punishments due to pernicious counsels
and corrupt management. The first was to procure,
under pretences hardly specious, a general act of in-
demity, which cuts off all impeachments. The second
was yet more refined: suppose, for instance, a counsel
is to be pursued which is necessary to carry on the
dangerous designs of a prevailing party, to preserve
them in power, to gratify the unmeasurable appetites
of a few leaders, civil and military, although by ha-
zarding the ruin of the whole nation; this counsel,
desperate in itself, unprecedented in its nature, they
procure a majority to form into an address, which
makes it look like the sense of the nation. Under
that shelter they carry on their work, and lie secure
against after-reckonings.
I must be so free to tell my meaning in this, that,
among other things, I understand it of the address
made to the queen about three years ago, to desire
that her majesty would not consent to a peace with-
out the entire restitution of Spain; a proceeding
which, to people abroad, must look like the highest
strain of temerity, folly, and gasconade. But we at
home, who allow the promoters of that advice to be
no fools, can easily comprehend the depth and mys-
tery of it. They were assured by this means to pin
down the war upon us; consequently, to increase
their own power and wealth, and multiply difficulties
on the queen and kingdom, until they had fixed their
THE EXAMINER.
341
party too firmly to be shaken whenever they should
find themselves disposed to reverse their address,
and give us leave to wish for a peace.
If any man entertains a more favourable opinion
of this monstrous step in politics, I would ask him
what we must do in case we find it imposs¹le to
recover Spain? Those among the Whigs wno be-
lieve a God will confess that the events of war lie in
nis hands; and the rest of them, who acknowledge
no such power, will allow that fortune has too great
a share in the good or ill success of military actions
to let a wise man reason upon them as if they were
entirely in his power. If Providence should think
fit to refuse success to our arms, with how ill a grace,
with what shame and confusion, shall we be obliged
to recant that precipitate address, unless the world
will be so charitable to consider that parliaments
among us differ as much as princes; and that, by
the fatal conjunction of many unhappy circum-
stances, it is very possible for our island to be repre-
sented sometimes by those who have the least pre-
tensions. So little truth or justice there is in what
some pretend to advance, that the actions of former
senates ought always to be treated with respect by
the latter; that those assemblies are all equally vene-
rable, and no one to be preferred before another;
by which argument the parliament that began the
rebellion against king Charles I., voted his trial, and
appointed his murderers, ought to be remembered
with respect.
But to return from this digression; it is very plain
that, considering the defectiveness of our laws, the
variety of cases, the weakness of the prerogative, the
power or cunning of ill-designing men, it is possible
that many great abuses may be visibly committed which
cannot be legally punished; especially if we add to
this that some inquiries might probably involve those
whom upon other accounts it is not thought con-
venient to disturb. Therefore it is very false reason-
ing, especially in the management of public affairs,
to argue that men are innocent because the law has
not pronounced them guilty.
I am apt to think it was to supply such defects as
these that satire was first introduced into the world
whereby those whom neither religion, nor natural
virtue, nor fear of punishment, were able to keep
within the bounds of their duty, might be withheld
by the shame of having their crimes exposed to open
view in the strongest colours, and themselves ren-
dered odious to mankind. Perhaps all this may be
little regarded by such hardened and abandoned na-
tures as I have to deal with; but, next to taming or
binding a savage animal, the best service you can do
the neighbourhood is to give them warning either
to arm themselves or not come in its way.
Could I have hoped for any signs of remorse from
the leaders of that faction, I should very gladly have
changed my style, and forgot, or passed by, their
million of enormities. But they are every day more
fond of discovering their impotent zeal and malice
witness their conduct in the city about a fortnight
ago, which had no other end imaginable beside that
of perplexing our affairs, and endeavouring to make
things desperate, that themselves may be thought
necessary. While they continue in this frantic mood
I shall not forbear to treat them as they deserve;
that is to say, as the inveterate irreconcilable enemies
to our country and its constitution.
No. 10.
THURSDAY, MAY 3, 1711.
Quis tulerit Gracchos de seditione querentes?
in vain
The Gracchi of sedition will complain.
THERE have been certain topics of reproach liberally
bestowed, for soine years past, by the Whigs and
Tories upon each other. We charge the former
with a design of destroying the established church,
and introducing fanaticism and freethinking in its
stead. We accuse them as enemies to monarchy;
as endeavouring to undermine the present form of
government, and to build a commonwealth, or some
new scheme of their own, upon its ruins. On the
other side, their clamours against us may be summed
up in those three formidable words, popery, arbi-
trary power, and the pretender.
Our accusations
against them we endeavour to make good by certain
overt acts; such as their perpetually abusing the
whole body of the clergy; their declared contempt
for the very order of priesthood; their aversion
against episcopacy; the public encouragement and
patronage they give to Tindal, Toland, and other
atheistical writers; their appearing as professed ad-
vocates retained by the dissenters, excusing their
separation, and laying the guilt of it to the obstinacy
of the church; their frequent endeavours to repeal
the test, and their setting up the indulgence to scru-
pulous consciences as a point of greater importance
than the established worship. The regard they bear
to our monarchy has appeared by their openly ridi-
culing the martyrdom of king Charles I. in their
calves'-head clubs, their common discourses, and
their pamphlets, their denying the unnatural war
raised against that prince to have been a rebellion ;
their justifying his murder in the allowed papers of
the week; their industry in publishing and spread-
ing seditious and republican tracts, such as Ludlow's
Memoirs, Sidney on Government, and many others;
their endless lopping of the prerogative, and mincing
into nothing her majesty's titles to the crown.
What proofs they bring for our endeavouring to
introduce popery, arbitrary power, and the pre-
tender, I cannot readily tell, and would be glad to
hear; however, these important words having, by
dexterous management, been found of mighty ser-
vice to their cause, although applied with little
colour either of reason or justice, I have been con-
sidering whether they may not be adapted to more
proper objects.
As to popery, which is the first of these; to deal
plainly, I can hardly think there is any set of men
among us, except the professors of it, who have any
direct intention to introduce it here; but the ques-
tion is, whether the principles and practices of us
or the Whigs be most likely to make way for it? It
is allowed on all hands that, among the methods
concerted at Rome for bringing over England into
the bosom of the catholic church, one of the chief
was to send jesuits and other emissaries, in lay
habits, who, personating tradesmen and mechanics,
should mix with the people, and, under the pretence
of a further and purer reformation, endeavour to di-
vide us into as many sects as possible; which would
either put us under the necessity of returning to our
old errors to preserve peace at home, or, by our
divisions, make way for some powerful neighbour,
with the assistance of the pope's permission and a
consecrated banner, to convert and enslave us at
once. If this has been reckoned good politics (and
it was the best the jesuit schools could invent), I ap-
peal to any man whether the Whigs, for many
years past, have not been employed in the very
same work? They professed on all occasions that
they knew no reason why any one system of specu-
lative opinions (as they term the doctrines of the
church) should be established by law more than
another; or why employments should be confined
to the religion of the magistrate and that called
the church established. The grand maxim they
laid down was, that no man, for the sake of a
342
THE EXAMINER.
few notions and ceremonies, under the names of
doctrine and discipline, should be denied the liberty
of serving his country: as if places would go a-beg-
ging unless Brownists, familists, sweet-singers,
quakers, anabaptists, and Muggletonians, would take
them off our hands.
I have been sometimes imagining this scheme
brought to perfection, and how diverting it would
be to see half a dozen sweet-singers on the bench in
their ermines, and two or three quakers with their
nhite staves at court. I can only say this project
is the very counterpart of the late king James's de-
sign, which he took up as the best method for in-
troducing his own religion, under the pretext of a
universal liberty of conscience, and that no differ-
ence in religion should make any in his favour.
Accordingly, to save appearances, he dealt some em-
ployments among dissenters of most denominations;
and what he did was, no doubt, in pursuance of the
best advice he could get at home or abroad; but the
church thought it the most dangerous step he could
take for her destruction. It is true king James ad-
mitted papists among the rest, which the Whigs
would not but this is sufficiently made up by a ma-
terial circumstance, wherein they seem to have much
outdone that prince, and to have carried their liberty
of conscience to a higher point, having granted it to
all the classes of freethinkers (which the nice con-
science of a popish prince would not give him leave
to do), and were therein mightily overseen; because
it is agreed by the learned that there is but a very
narrow step from atheism to the other extreme, su-
perstition. So that, upon the whole, whether the
Whigs had any real design of bringing in popery or
not, it is very plain that they took the most effectual
step toward it; and if the jesuits had been their
immediate directors, they could not have taught
them better, nor have found apter scholars.
Their second accusation is, that we encourage and
maintain abitrary power in princes; and promote
enslaving doctrines among the people. This they go
about to prove by instances; producing the particu-
lar opinions of certain divines in king Charles II.'s
eign, a decree of Oxford university, and some few
writers since the revolution. What they mean is
the principle of passive obedience and non-resist-
ance, which those who affirm did, I believe, never
intend should include arbitrary power. However,
although I am sensible that it is not reckoned pru-
dent in a dispute to make any concessions without
he last necessity, yet I do agree that, in my own
private opinion, some writers did carry that tenet of
passive obedience to a height which seemed hardly
consistent with the liberties of a country whose
laws can neither be enacted nor repealed without
the consent of the whole people: I mean not those
who affirm it due in general, as it certainly is, to the
legislature; but such as fix it entirely in the prince's
person. This last has, I believe, been done by a
very few; but when the Whigs quote authors to
prove it upon us, they bring in all who mention it
as a duty in general, without applying it to princes
abstracted from their senate.
By thus freely declaring my own sentiments of
passive obedience, it will at least appear that I do
not write for a party; neither do I upon any occa-
sion pretend to speak their sentiments, but my own.
The majority of the two houses and the present
ministry (if those be a party) seem to me in all their
proceedings to pursue the real interest of church and
state; and if I should happen to differ from particu-
lar persons among them in a single notion about go-
ernment, I suppose they will not, upon that ac-
count, explode me and my paper. However, as an
answer, once for all, to the tedious scurrilities of
those idle people who affirm I am hired and directeu
what to write, I must here inform them that their
censure is an effect of their principles. The present
ministry are under no necessity of employing prosti-
tute pens; they have no dark designs to promote by
advancing heterodox opinions.
But (to return), suppose two or three private di-
vines under king Charles the Second did a little over-
strain the doctrine of passive obedience to princes;
some allowance might be given to the memory
of that unnatural rebellion against his father, and the
dismal consequences of resistance. It is plain, by
the proceedings of the churchmen before and at
the revolution, that this doctrine was never de-
signed to introduce arbitrary power.
The
I look upon the Whigs and dissenters to be ex-
actly of the same political faith; let us therefore see
what share each of them had in advancing arbitrary
power. It is manifest that the fanatics made Crom-
well the most absolute tyrant in Christendom.
Rump abolished the house of lords, the army abo-
lished the Rump, and by this army of saints he
governed. The dissenters took liberty of conscience
and employments from the late king James, as an
acknowledgment of his dispensing power; which
makes a king of England as absolute as the Turk.
The Whigs under the late king perpetually declared
for keeping up a standing army in times of peace;
which has, in all ages, been the first and great step
to the ruin of liberty. They were besides discover-
ing every day their inclinations to destroy the rights
of the church, and declared their opinion in all com.
panies against the bishops sitting in the house of
peers; which was exactly copying after their prede-
cessors of 1641. I need not say their real intentions
were to make the king absolute; but, whatever be
the designs of innovating men, they usually end in a
tyranny; as we may see by a hundred examples in
Greece, and in the later commonwealths of Italy
mentioned by Machiavel.
In the third place, the Whigs accuse us of a design
to bring in the pretender; and to give it a greater
air of probability, they suppose the queen to be a
party in this design; which, however, is no very ex-
traordinary supposition in those who have advanced
such singular paradoxes concerning Greg and Guis-
card. Upon this article their charge is general,
without ever offering to produce an instance. But I
verily think and believe it will appear no paradox,
that, if ever he be brought in, the Whigs are his men.
For, first, it is an undoubted truth that, a year or two
after the revolution, several leaders of that party
had their pardons sent them by the late king James,
and had entered upon measures to restore him, on
account of some disobligation they received from
king William. Besides, I would ask whether those
who were under the greatest ties of gratitude to king
James are not at this day become the most zealous
Whigs? And of what party those are now who
kept a long correspondence with St. Germains?
It is likewise very observable of late that the
Whigs upon all occasions profess their belief of the
pretender's being no impostor, but a real prince,
born of the late queen's body; which, whether it be
true or false, is very unseasonably advanced, con-
sidering the weight such an opinion must have with
the vulgar, if they once thoroughly believe it. Nei-
ther is it at all improbable that the pretender him-
self puts his chief hopes in the friendship he expects
from the dissenters and Whigs, by his choice to in-
vade the kingdom when the latter were most in
credit; and he had reason to count upon the former,
from the gracious treatment they received from his
supposed father, and their joyful acceptance of it.
But further, what could be more consistent with
THE EXAMINER.
348
the Whiggish notion of a revolution principle than
to bring in the pretender? A revolution principle,
as their writings and discourses have taught us to
define it, is a principle perpetually disposing men to
revolutions; and this is suitable to the famous say-
ing of a great Whig, that the more revolutions the
better; which, how odd a maxim soever in appear-
ance, I take to be the true characteristic of the
party.
A dog loves to turn round often; yet after certain
revolutions he lies down to rest: but heads under
the dominion of the moon are for perpetual changes
and perpetual revolutions; besides, the Whigs owe
all their wealth to wars and revolutions; like the
girl at Bartholomew fair, who gets a penny by turn-
ing round a hundred times with swords in her
hands.
To conclude: the Whigs have a natural faculty of
bringing in pretenders, and will therefore probably
endeavour to bring in the great one at last. How
many pretenders to wit, honour, nobility, politics,
have they brought in these last twenty years! In
short, they have been sometimes able to procure a
majority of pretenders in parliament, and wanted
nothing to render the work complete except a pre-
tender at their head.
No. 41.
THURSDAY, MAY 10, 1711.
Dos est magua parentum virtus.
The virtue of parents is a large dowry to their children.
I TOOK up a paper some days ago in a coffeehouse;
a coffeehouse; |
and if the correctness of the style, and a superior
spirit in it, had not immediately undeceived me, I
should have been apt to imagine I had been reading
an Examiner. In this
In this paper there were several im-
portant propositions advanced. For instance, "that
Providence had raised up Mr. Harley to be an in-
strument of great good, in a very critical juncture,
when it was much wanted; that his very enemies
acknowledge his eminent abilities and distinguished
merit, by their unwearied and restless endeavours
against his person and reputation; that they have
had an inveterate malice against both; that he has
been wonderfully preserved from some unparalleled
attempts;" with more to the same purpose. I im-
mediately computed, by rules of arithmetic, that in
the last-cited words there was something more in-
tended than the attempt of Guiscard, which, I think,
can properly pass but for one of the some. And al-
though I dare not pretend to guess the author's
meaning, yet the expression allows such a latitude that
I would venture to hold a wager, most readers, both
Whig and Tory, have agreed with me that this plural
number must, in all probability, among other facts,
take in the business of Greg.
See now the difference of styles. Had I been to
have told my thoughts on this occasion, instead of
saying how Mr. Harley "was treated by some per-
sons, and preserved from some unparalleled at-
tempts," I should, with intolerable bluntness and
ill manners, have told a formal story of a committee
sent to a condemned criminal in Newgate, to bribe
him with pardon on condition he would swear high
treason against his master, who discovered his cor-
respondence and secured his person, when a certain
grave politician had given him warning to make his
escape and by this means I should have drawn a
whole swarm of hedge-writers to exhaust their cata-
logue of scurrilities against me as a liar and slan-
*
The speaker's congratulation of Mr. Harley in the name
of the house on his
escape and recovery.
derer. But, with submission to the author of that
forementioned paper, I think he has carried that ex-
pression to the utmost it will bear; for after all this
notice I know of but two attempts against Mr.
Harley that can really be called unparalleled, which
are those aforesaid of Greg and Guiscard; and as
to the rest, I will engage to parallel them from the
story of Catiline and others I could produce.
However, I cannot but observe with infinite
pleasure that a great part of what I have charged
upon the late prevailing faction, and for affirming
which I have been adorned with so many decent
epithets, has been sufficiently confirmed at several
times by the resolutions of one or the other house.
of parliamen. I may therefore now say, I hope
with good authority, that there have been some un-
paralleled attempts against Mr. Harley; that the
late ministry were justly to blame in some manage-
ments, which occasioned the unfortunate battle of
Almanza and the disappointment at Toulon; that
the public has been grievously wronged by most no-
torious frauds during the Whig administration; that
those who advised the bringing in the Palatines
were enemies to the kingdom; that the late ma-
nagers of the revenue have not duly passed their
accounts for a great part of thirty-five millions, and
ought not to be trusted in such employments any
more. Perhaps in a little time I may venture to
affirm some other paradoxes of this kind, and pro-
duce the same vouchers. And perhaps also, if it
had not been so busy a period, instead of one Exa-
miner the late ministry might have had above four
hundred, each of whose little fingers would be hea-
vier than
vier than my loins. It makes me think of Neptune's
threat to the winds :-
Quos ego-sed motos præstat componere fluctus.
Thus, when the sons of Eolus had almost sunk the
ship with the tempests they raised, it was necessary
to smooth the ocean and secure the vessel, instead
of pursuing the offenders.
→
But I observe the general expectation at present,
instead of dwelling any longer upon conjectures who
is to be punished for past miscarriages, seems bent
upon the rewards intended to those who have been
so highly instrumental in rescuing our constitution
from its late dangers. It is the observation of Ta-
citus, in the life of Agricola, that his eminent ser-
vices had raised a general opinion of his being de-
signed by the emperor for prætor of Britain: Nullis
in hoc suis sermonibus, sed quia par videbatur; and
then he adds, Non semper errat fama, aliquando et
eligit. The judgment of a wise prince, and a gene-
ral disposition of the people, do often point at the
same person; and sometimes the popular wishes do
often foretel the reward intended for some superior
merit. Thus among several deserving persons there
are two whom the public vogue has in a peculiar
manner singled out, as designed very soon to receive
the choicest marks of the royal favour: one of them
to be placed in a very high station, and both to in-
crease the number of our nobility [Harley and St.
John]. This,
This, I say, is the general conjecture; for
fulfilled; since it is enough for their honour that
I pretend to none, nor will be chargeable if it be not
the nation thinks them worthy of the greatest re-
wards.
Upon this occasion I cannot but take notice that,
of all the heresies in politics profusely scattered by
the partisans of the late administration, none ever
displeased me more, or seemed to have more dan-
gerous consequences to monarchy, than that perni-
cious talent so much affected of discovering a con-
tempt for birth, family. and ancient nobility. Al
the threadbare topics of poets and orators were dis
344
THE EXAMINER.
played to discover to us that merit and virtue were
the only nobility; and that the advantages of blood
could not make a knave or a fool either honest or
wise. Most popular commotions we read of in the
histories of Greece and Rome took their rise from
unjust quarrels to the nobles; and, in the latter, the
plebeians' encroachments on the patricians were the
first cause of their ruin.
genealogy, that they have a remote alliance with
better families. Cromwell himself was pleased with
the impudence of a flatterer who undertook to
prove him descended from a branch of the royal
stem. I know a citizen who adds or alters a letter
in his name with every plum he acquires; he now
wants only the change of a vowela to be allied to a
sovereign prince in Italy; and that perhaps he may
contrive to be done by a mistake of the graver upon
his tombstone.
When I am upon this subject of nobility I am
sorry for the occasion given me to mention the loss
of a person who is so great an ornament to it as
the late lord-president [earl of Rochester], who be-
Suppose there be nothing but opinion in the dif-
ference of blood, everybody knows that authority
is very much founded on opinion. But surely that
difference is not wholly imaginary. The advan-
tages of a liberal education, of choosing the best
companions to converse with, not being under the
necessity of practising little mean tricks by a scantygan early to distinguish himself in the public service,
allowance, the enlarging of thought and acquiring
the knowledge of men and things by travel, the ex-
ample of ancestors inciting to great and good ac-
tions; these are usually some of the opportunities
that fall in the way of those who are born of what
we call the better families and, allowing genius to
be equal in them and the vulgar, the odds are clearly
on their side. Nay, we may observe in some, who,
by the appearance of merit or favour of fortune, have
risen to great stations from an obscure birth, that
they have still retained some sordid vices of their
parentage or education; either insatiable avarice or
ignominious falsehood and corruption.
To say the truth, the great neglect of education in
several noble families, whose sons are suffered to
pass the most improvable seasons of their youth in
vice and idleness, have too much lessened their re-
putation but even this misfortune we owe, among
all the rest, to that Whiggish practice of reviling the
universities, under the pretence of their instilling
pedantry, narrow principles, and high-church doc-
trines.
I would not be thought to undervalue merit and
virtue, wherever they are to be found, but will
allow them capable of the highest dignities in a state
when they are in a very great degree of eminence.
pearl holds its value, though it be found in a
dunghill; but, however, that is not the most proba-
ble place to search for it. Nay, I will go further,
and admit that a man of quality, without merit, is
just so much the worse for his quality; which at
once sets his vices in a more public view, and re-
proaches him for them. But on the other side, I
doubt those who are always undervaluing the advan-
tages of birth, and celebrating personal merit, have
principally an eye to their own, which they are
fully satisfied with, and which nobody will dispute
with them about; whereas they cannot, without im-
pudence and folly, pretend to be nobly born: be-
cause this is a secret too easily discovered: for no
men's parentage is so nicely inquired into as that of
assuming upstarts, especially when they affect to
make it better than it is (as they often do), or be-
have themselves with insolence.
But whatever may be the opinion of others upon
this subject, whose philosophical scorn for blood and
families reaches even to those that are royal, or per-
haps took its rise from a Whiggish contempt of the
latter, I am pleased to find two such instances of
extraordinary merit as I have mentioned joined
with ancient and honourable birth; which, whether
it be of real or imaginary value, has been held in
veneration by all wise polite states, both ancient and
modern. And as much a foppery as men pretend to
think it, nothing is more observable in those who
rise to great place or wealth from mean originals
than their mighty solicitude to convince the world
that they are not so low as is commonly believed.
They are glad to find it made out, by some strained |
and passed through the highest employments of
state, in the most difficult times, with great abilities
and untainted honour. As he was of a good old
age, his principles of religion and loyalty had re-
ceived no mixture from late infusions, but were
instilled into him by his illustrious father and other
noble spirits, who had exposed their lives and for-
tunes for the royal martyr ;—
--Pulcherrima proles,
Magnanimi heroes nati melioribus annis.
His first great action was like Scipio, to defend
his father when oppressed by numbers; and his
filial piety was not only rewarded with long life,
but with a son who, upon the like occasion, would
have shown the same resolution. No man ever pre-
served his dignity better when he was out of power,
nor showed more affability while he was in. To
conclude, his character (which I do not here pretend
to draw) is such as his nearest friends may safely
trust to the most impartial pen; nor wants the least
of that allowance which, they say, is required for
those who are dead.
No. 42.
THURSDAY, MAY 17, 1711.
Quem cur distringere coner,
Tutus ab infestis latronibus?
Safe it lies
Within the sheath, till thieves and villains rise.
I NEVER let slip an opportunity of endeavouring to
convince the world that I am not partial, and to
confound the idle reproach of my being hired or
directed what to write in defence of the present
ministry, or for detecting the practices of the former.
When I first undertook this paper I firmly resolved
that if ever I observed any gross neglect, abuse, or
corruption in the public management, which might
give any just offence to reasonable people, I would
take notice of it with that innocent boldness which
becomes an honest man and a true lover of his
country; at the same time preserving the respect
due to persons so highly intrusted by so wise and
excellent a queen. I know not how such a liberty
might have been resented; but I thank God there
has been no occasion given me to exercise it for I
can safely affirm that I have with the utmost rigour
examined all the actions of the present ministry, as
far as they fall under general cognisance, without
being able to accuse them of one ill or mistaken
step. Observing, indeed, some time ago, that seeds.
of dissension had been plentifully scattered from a
certain corner, and fearing they began to rise and
spread, I immediately writ a paper on the subject,
which I treated with that warmth I thought it re-
quired; but the prudence of those at the helm soon
prevented this growing evil, and at present it seems
likely to have no consequences.
Sir Henry Furnese.
b Farnese.
THE EXAMINER.
345
to), he only revives a false and groundless calumny
upon other men, which is an instance of impotent
but inveterate malice, that makes him (the speaker)
still appear more vile and contemptible. This is an
extract from his first paragraph. In the next, this
writer says that the speaker's praying to God for the
continuance of Mr. Harley's life, as an invaluable
blessing, was a fulsome piece of insincerity, which
exposes him to shame and derision: because he is
known to bear ill will to Mr. Harley, to have an
extreme bad opinion of him, and to think him an
obstructor of those fine measures he would bring
about.
I have had indeed for some time a small occasion | unparalleled attempts (for that the Medley alludes
of quarrelling, which I thought too inconsiderable
for a formal subject of complaint, although I have
ninted at it more than once. But it is grown at pre-
sent to as great a height as a matter of that nature
can possibly bear; and therefore I conceive it high
time that an effectual stop should be put to it. I
have been amazed at the flaming licentiousness of
several weekly papers, which, for some months past,
have been chiefly employed in barefaced scurrilities
against those who are in the greatest trust and favour
with the queen, with the first and last letters of their
names frequently printed, or some periphrasis de-
scribing their station, or other innuendoes contrived
too plain to be mistaken. The consequence of
which is (and it is natural it should be so) that
their long impunity has rendered them still more
audacious.
At this time I particularly intend a paper called
the Medley, whose indefatigable incessant railings
against me I never thought convenient to take notice
of, because it would have diverted my design, which
I intended to be of public use. Besides, I never yet
observed that writer, or those writers (for it is every
way a Medley), to argue against any one material
point or fact that I had advanced, or make one fair
quotation. And after all, I knew very well how
soon the world grow weary of controversy. It is
plain to me that three or four hands at least have
been joined at times in that worthy composition;
but the outlines, as well as the finishing, seem to
have been always the work of the same pen, as it is
visible from half a score beauties of style inseparable
from it. But who these meddlers are, or where the
judicious leaders have picked them up, I shall never
go about to conjecture: factious rancour, false wit,
abandoned scurrility, impudent falsehood, and ser-
vile pedantry, having so many fathers and so few to
own them, that curiosity herself would not be at the
pains to guess. It is the first time I ever did myself
the honour to mention that admirable paper; nor
could I imagine any occasion likely to happen that
would make it necessary for me to engage with such
an adversary. This paper is weekly published, and,
as appears by the number, has been so for several
months; and is, next to the Observator, allowed to
be the best production of the party. Last week my
printer brought me that of May 7, No. 32, where
there are two paragraphs relating to the speaker of
the house of commons, and to Mr. Harley, which,
as little as I am inclined to engage with such an an-
tagonist, I cannot let pass without failing in my duty
to the public; and if those in power will suffer such
infamous insinuations to pass with impunity, they
act without precedent from any age or country of
the world.
I desire to open this matter, and leave the Whigs
themselves to determine upon it. The house of
commons resolved, nemine contradicente, that the
speaker should congratulate Mr. Harley's escape.
and recovery, in the name of the house, upon his
first attendance on their service. This is accord-
ingly done; and the speech, together with the
chancellor of the exchequer's, are printed by order
of the house. The author of the Medley takes this
speech to task the very next week after it is pub-
lished; telling us in the aforesaid paper that the
speaker's commending Mr. Harley for being an in-
strument of great good to the nation was ill-chosen
flattery; because Mr. Harley had brought the nation
under great difficulties, to say no more. He says
that, when the speaker tells Mr. Harley that Pro-
vidence has wonderfully preserved him from some
A
Published in answer to the Examiner.
|
I now appeal to the Whigs themselves whether a
great minister of state, in high favour with the
queen, and a speaker of the house of commons, were
ever publicly treated after so extraordinary a man-
ner in the most licentious times? For this is not a
clandestine libel stolen into the world, but openly
printed and sold with the bookseller's name and
place of abode at the bottom: and the juncture is
admirable, when Mr. Harley is generally believed
upon the very point to be made an earl, and pro-
moted to the most important station of the king-
dom; nay, the very marks of esteem he has so lately
received from the whole representative body of the
people are called ill-chosen flattery, and a fulsome
piece of insincerity, exposing the donors to shame
and derision.
of
Does this intrepid writer think he has sufficiently
disguised the matter by that stale artifice of altering
the story, and putting it as a supposed case? Did
any man who ever saw the congratulatory speech
read either of those paragraphs in the Medley with-
out interpreting them just as I have done? Will
the author declare upon his great sincerity that he
never had any such meaning? Is it enough that a
jury at Westminster-hall would perhaps not find him
guilty of defaming the speaker and Mr. Harley in
that paper? which, however, I am much in doubt of
too; and must think the law very defective if the
reputation of such persons must lie at the mercy
such pens. I do not remember to have seen any
libel, supposed to be writ with caution and double
meaning in order to prevent prosecution, delivered
under so thin a cover, or so unartificially made up,
as this; whether it were from an apprehension of
his readers' dulness, or an effect of his own. He
has transcribed the very phrases of the speaker, and
put them in a different character, for fear they might
pass unobserved, and prevent all possibility of being
mistaken. I shall be pleased to see him have re-
course to the old evasion, and say that I who make
the application am chargeable with the abuse; let
any reader of either party be judge. But I cannot
forbear asserting as my opinion, that for a ministry
to endure such open calumny, without calling the
author to account, is next to deserving it. And this
is an omission I venture to charge upon the present
ministry, who are too apt to despise little things,
which,
which, however, have not always little conse-
quences.
When this paper was first undertaken, one design
among others was, to examine some of those writings
so frequently published with an evil tendency either
to religion or government; but I was long diverted
by other inquiries, which I thought more imme-
diately necessary; to animadvert upon men's ac-
tions, rather than their speculations; to show the
necessity there was of changing the ministry, that
our constitution in church and state might be
served; to expose some dangerous principles and
practices under the former administration, and prove
pre-
316
THE EXAMINER.
by many instances that those who are now at the
helin are entirely in the true interest of prince and
people. This I may modestly hope has in some
measure been already done, sufficient to answer the
end proposed, which was to inform the ignorant
and those at a distance, and to convince such as
are engaged in party from no other motive than that
of conscience. I know not whether I shall have
any appetite to continue this work much longer; if
I do, perhaps some time may be spent in exposing
and overturning the false reasonings of those who
engage their pens on the other side, without losing
time in vindicating myself against their scurrilities,
much less in retorting them. Of this sort there is a
certain humble companion, a French maître des
langues [Abel Boyer], who every month publishes
an extract from votes, newspapers, speeches, and
proclamations, larded with some insipid remarks of
his own, which he calls "The Political State of
Great Britain.' This ingenious piece, he tells us
himself, is constantly translated into French, and
printed in Holland, where the Dutch, no doubt,
conceive most noble sentiments of us, conveyed
through such a vehicle. It is observable in his ac-
count for April that the vanity so predominant in
many of his nation has made him more concerned
for the honour of Guiscard than the safety of Mr.
Harley. And for fear we should think the worse of
his country upon that assassin's account, he tells us
there have been more murders, parricides, and vil-
lanies committed in England than in any other part
of the world. I cannot imagine how an illiterate
foreigner, who is neither master of our language,
nor, indeed, of common sense, and who is devoted
to a faction I suppose for no other reason but his
having more Whig customers than Tories, should
take it into his head to write politic tracts of our
affairs. But I presume he builds upon the founda-
tion of having been called to an account for his in-
solence in one of his monthly former productions,
which is a method that seldom fails of giving some
vogue to the foolishest composition. If such a work
must be done, I wish some tolerable hand would
undertake it; and that we would not suffer a little
whiffling Frenchman to neglect his trade of teaching
his language to our children, and presume to instruct
foreigners in our politics.
No. 43.
THURSDAY, MAY 24, 1711.
Delicta majorum immeritus lues,
Romane, donec templa refeceris,
Edesque labentes deorum.
You of your father's crimes the guilt shall bear,
Unless the sacred temples you repair.
SEVERAL letters have been lately sent me, desiring I
would make honourable mention of the pious design
of building fifty churches in several parts of London
and Westminster, where they are most wanted, occa-
sioned by an address of the convocation to the queen,
and recommended by her majesty to the house of
commons, who immediately promised they would
enable her to accomplish so excellent a design, aud
are now preparing a bill accordingly. I thought to
have deferred any notice of this important affair
until the end of the session; at which time I pro-
posed to deliver a particular account of the great and
useful things already performed by this present par-
liament But, in compliance to those who give
themselves the trouble of advising me, and partly
convinced by the reasons they offer, I am content to
bestow a paper upor a subject that, indeed, so well
deserves it.
|
The clergy, and whoever else have a true concern
for the constitution of the church, cannot but be
highly pleased with one prospect in this new scene
of public affairs. They may very well remember
the time when every session of parliament was like
a cloud hanging over their heads; and if it happened
to pass without bursting into some storm upon the
church, we thanked God, and thought it a happy
escape until the next meeting; upon which we re-
sumed our secret apprehensions, although we were
not allowed to believe any danger. Things are now
altered; the parliament takes the necessities of the
church into consideration, receives the proposals of
the clergy met in convocation, and amid all the
exigencies of a long expensive war, and under the
pressure of heavy debts, finds a supply for erecting
fifty edifices for the service of God. And it appears
by the address of the commons to her majesty upon
this occasion (wherein they discovered a true spirit of
religion), that applying the money granted to accom-
piish so excellent a design would, in their opinion,
be the most effectual way of carrying on the war;
that it would (to use their own words) be a means
of drawing down blessings on her majesty's under-
takings, as it adds to the number of those places
where the prayers of her devout and faithful subjects
will be daily offered up to God for the prosperity of
her government at home and the success of her
arms abroad.
I am sometimes hoping that we are not naturally
so bad a people as we have appeared for some years.
past. Faction, in order to support itself, is generally
forced to make use of such abominable instruments,
that, as long as it prevails, the genius of a nation is
overpressed, and cannot appear to exert itself; but,
when that is broken and suppressed, when things
return to the old course, mankind will naturally fall
to act from principles of reason and religion. The
Romans, upon a great victory or escape from public
danger, frequently built a temple in honour of some
god, to whose peculiar favour they imputed their
success or delivery; and sometimes the general did
the like, at his own expense, to acquit himself of
some pious vow he had made. How little of any-
thing resembling this has been done by us after all
our victories! And perhaps for that reason, among
others, they have turned to so little account. But
what could we expect? We acted all along as if we
believed nothing of a God, or his providence; and,
therefore, it was consistent to offer up our edifices
only to those whom we looked upon as givers of all
victory in his stead.
I have computed that fifty churches may be built,
by a medium, at six thousand pounds for a church,
which is somewhat under the price of a subject's
palace; yet, perhaps, the care of above two hundred
thousand souls, with the benefit of their prayers fo
the prosperity of their queen and country, may be
almost put in the balance with the domestic conve-
nience, or even inagnificence, of any subject what-
soever.
Sir William Petty, who, under the name of capt.
Graunt, published some observations upon the bills
of mortality above five years after the restoration,
tells us the parishes in London were even then so
unequally divided, that some were two hundred
times larger than others. Since that time the in-
crease of trade, the frequency of parliaments, the de-
sire of living in the metropolis, together with that
genius for building which began after the fire, and
has ever since continued, have prodigiously enlarged
this town on all sides where it was capable of in-
crease; and those tracts of land built into streets
have generally continued of the same parish they
THE EXAMINER.
317
;
belonged to while they lay in fields; so that the care
of about thirty thousand souls has been sometimes
committed to one minister, whose church would
hardly contain the twentieth part of his flock
neither, I think, was any family in those parishes
obliged to pay above a groat a-year to their spiritual
pastor. Some few of those parishes have been since
divided; in others were erected chapels of ease,
where a preacher is maintained by general contribu-
tion. Such poor shifts and expedients, to the infi-
nite shame and scandal of so vast and flourishing a
city, have been thought sufficient for the service of
God and religion, as if they were circumstances
wholly indifferent.
This defect, among other consequences of it, has
made schism a sort of necessary evil; there being at
least three hundred thousand inhabitants in this
town whom the churches would not be able to con-
tain if the people were ever so well disposed: and
in a city not overstocked with zeal, the only way to
preserve any degree of religion is to make all attend-
ance upon the duties of it as easy and cheap as pos-
sible: whereas, on the contrary, in the larger parishes,
the press is so great, and the pew-keepers' tax so ex-
orbitant, that those who love to save trouble and
money either stay at home or retire to the conven-
ticles. I believe there are few examples in any
christian country of so great a neglect of religion;
and the dissenting teachers have made their advan-
tage largely by it, sowing tares among the wheat
while men slept, being much more expert at pro-
curing contributions, which is a trade they are bred
up in, than men of a liberal education.
And, to say truth, the way practised by several
parishes in and about this town of maintaining
their clergy by voluntary subscriptions is not only
an indignity to the character, but has many perni-
cious consequences attending it; such a precarious
dependence subjecting a clergyman who has not
more than ordinary spirit and resolution to many
inconveniences which are obvious to imagine ; but
this defect will, no doubt, be remedied by the wis-
dom and piety of the present parliament, and a tax
laid upon every house in a parish for the support of
their pastor. Neither, indeed, can it be conceived
why a house, whose purchase is not reckoned above
one-third less than land of the same yearly rent,
should not pay a twentieth part annually (which is
half tithe) to the support of the minister. One
thing I could wish, that, in fixing the maintenance
to the several ministers in these new intended
parishes, no determinate sum of money may be
named; which, in all perpetuities, ought by any
means to be avoided; but rather a tax in proportion
to the rent of each house, although it be but a twen-
tieth or even a thirtieth part. The contrary of this,
I am told, was done in several parishes of the city
after the fire, where the incumbent and his succes-
sors were to receive for ever a certain sum: for ex-
ample, one or two hundred pounds a-year. But
the lawgivers did not consider that what we call at
present one hundred pounds will not, in process of
time, have the intrinsic value of twenty; as twenty
pounds now are hardly equal to forty shillings three
hundred years ago.
There are a thousand instances
of this all over England, in reserved rents applied to
hospitals, in old chiefries, and even among the clergy
themselves, in those payments which I think they
call a modus.
As no prince had ever better dispositions than her
present majesty for the advancement of true religion,
so there never was any age that produced greater
occasions to employ them on. It is an unspeakable
misfortune, that any design of so excellent a queen
should be checked by the necessities of a long and
ruinous war, which the folly or corruption of modern
politicians have involved us in, against all the max-
ims whereby our country flourished so many hun-
dred years; else her majesty's care of religion would
certainly have reached even to her American plant-
ations. Those noble countries, stocked by num-
bers from hence, whereof too many are in no very
great reputation for faith or morals, will be a perpe-
tual reproach to us until some better care be taken
for cultivating christianity among them. If the
governors of those several colonies were obliged, at
certain times, to transmit an exact representation of
the state of religion in their several districts, and the
legislature here would, in a time of leisure, take
that affair under their consideration, it might be
perfected with little difficulty, and be a great addition
to the glories of her majesty's reign.
But, to wave further speculations upon so remote
a scene, while we have subjects enough to employ
them on at home; it is to be hoped the clergy will
not let slip any proper opportunity of improving the
pious dispositions of the queen and kingdom for the
advantage of the church; when, by the example of
times past, they consider how rarely such conjunc-
tures are likely to happen. What if some method were
thought on toward the repairing of churches; for
which there is likely to be too frequent occasion,
those ancient Gothic structures throughout this
kingdom going every year to decay? That expedient
of repairing or rebuilding them by charitable collec-
tions seems in my opinion not very suitable either
to the dignity and usefulness of the work, or to the
honour of our country; since it might be so easily
done, with very little charge to the public, in a much
more decent and honourable manner, while parlia-
ments are so frequently called. But these and
other regulations must be left to a time of peace,
which I shall humbly presume to wish may soon be
our share, however offensive it may be to any, either
abroad or at home, who are gainers by the war.
No. 44.
THURSDAY, MAY 31, 1711.
Scilicet, ut posses cury o dignoscere rectum.
That hence you may distinguish right from wrong.
HAVING been forced in my papers to use the cant
words of Whig and Tory, which have so often
varied their significations for twenty years past, I
think it necessary to say something of the several
changes those two terms have undergone since that
period; and then to tell the reader what I have
always understood by each of them since I under-
took this work. I reckon that these sorts of con-
ceited appellations are usually invented by the
vulgar; who, not troubling themselves to examine
thoroughly the merits of a cause, are consequently
the most violent partisans of what they espouse, and
in their quarrels usually proceed to their beloved
argument of calling names, until at length they light
upon one which is sure to stick and in time each
party grows proud of that appellation, which their
adversaries at first intended for a reproach. Of this
kind were the Prasini and Veneti, the Guelphs and
Gibelines, huguenots and papists, Roundheads and
Cavaliers, with many others of ancient and modern
date. Among us of late there seems to have been a
barrenness of invention in this point; the words
Whig and Tory, although they be not much above,
thirty years old, having been pressed to the service
of many successions of parties, with very different
ideas fastened to them. This distinction, I think,
began toward the latter part of king Charles II.'s
}
348
THE EXAMINER.
1
reign, was dropped during that of his successor, and
then revived at the revolution; since which it has
verpetually flourished, although applied to very dif-
ferent kinds of principles and persons. In that
convention of lords and commons, some of both
houses were for a regency to the prince of Orange,
with a reservation of style and title to the absent
king, which should be made use of in all public
acts: others, when they were brought to allow the
throne vacant, thought the succession should im-
mediately go to the next heir, according to the
fundamental laws of the kingdom, as if the last king
were actually dead. And although the dissenting
And although the dissenting
lords (in whose house the chief opposition was) did
at last yield both those points, took the oaths to the
new king, and many of them employments, yet they
were looked upon with an evil eye by the warm
zealots of the other side; neither did the court ever
heartily favour any of them, although some of them
were of the most eminent for abilities and virtue,
and served that prince both in his councils and his
army with untainted faith. It was apprehended at
the same time, and perhaps it might have been true,
that many of the clergy would have been better
pleased with the scheme of a regency, or at least an
uninterrupted lineal succession, for the sake of
those whose consciences were truly scrupulous; and
they thought there were some circumstances in the
case of the deprived bishops that looked a little
hard, or at least deserved commiseration.
These and other the like reflections did, as I
conceive, revive the denominations of Whig and Tory.
Some time after the revolution the distinction of
high and low church came in, which was raised by
the dissenters in order to break the church party by
dividing the members into high and low; and the
opinions raised, that the high joined with the pa-
pists, inclined the low to fall in with the dissenters.
And here I shall take leave to produce some prin-
ciples which, in the several periods of the late
reign, served to denote a man of one or the other
party. To be against a standing army in time of
peace was all high-church, Tory, and Tantivy; to
differ from a majority of bishops was the same. To
raise the prerogative above law for serving a turn
was low-church and Whig. The opinion of the
majority in the house of commons, especially of the
country party or landed interest, was high-flying
and rank Tory. To exalt the king's supremacy
beyond all precedent was low-church, Whiggish,
and moderate. To make the least doubt of the
pretended prince's being suppositious, and a tiler's
son, was in their phrase top and topgallant, and
perfect jacobitism. To resume the most exorbitant
grants that were ever given to a set of profligate
favourites, and apply them to the public, was the
very quintessence of Toryism; notwithstanding
those grants were known to be acquired by sacri-
ficing the honour and the wealth of England.
In most of these principles the two parties seem
to have shifted opinions since their institution.
under king Charles II., and, indeed, to have gone
very different from what was expected from each,
even at the time of the revolution. But as to that
concerning the pretender, the Whigs have so far
renounced it, that they are grown the great advo-
cates for his legitimacy; which gives me the oppor-
tunity of vindicating a noble duke, who was accused
of a blunder in the house, when, upon a certain
lord's mentioning the pretended prince, his grace
told the lords he must be plain with them, and call
that person not the pretended prince, but the pre-
tended impostor; which was so far from a blunder
in that polite lord, as his ill-willers give out, that it
|
was only a refined way of delivering the avowed
sentiments of his whole party.
But to return; this was the state of principles
when the queen came to the crown; some time
after which, it pleased certain great persons, who
had been all their lives in the altitude of Tory pro-
fession, to enter into a treaty with the Whigs, from
whom they could get better terms than from their
old friends, who began to be resty, and would not
allow monopolies of power and favour, nor consent
to carry on the war entirely at the expense of this
nation, that they might have pensions from abroad;
while another people, more immediately concerned
in the war, traded with the enemy as in times of
peace; whereas the other party, whose case appeared
then as desperate, was ready to yield to any condi-
tions that would bring them into play. And 1 can-
not help affirming that this nation was made a sa-
crifice to the unmeasurable appetite of power and
wealth in a very few that shall be nameless, who, in
every step they made, acted directly against what
they had always professed. And if his royal high-
ness [prince George of Denmark] had died some
years sooner (who was a perpetual check in their
career), it is dreadful to think how far they might
have proceeded.
Since that time the bulk of the Whigs appears
rather to be linked to a certain set of persons than
any certain set of principles; so that, if I were to
define a member of that party, I should say be was
one who believed in the late ministry. And there-
fore whatever I have affirmed of Whigs in any of
these papers, or objected against them, ought to be
understood, either of those who were partisans of the
late men in power, and privy to their designs; or
such who joined with them from a hatred to our
monarchy and church, as unbelievers and dissenters
of all sizes; or men in office, who had been guilty of
much corruption, and dreaded a change which would
not only put a stop to further abuses for the future,
but might perhaps introduce examinations of what
was past; or those who had been too highly obliged
to quit their supporters with any common decency;
or lastly, the money-traders, who could never hope
to make their markets so well of premiums, and ex-
orbitant interest, and high remittances, under any
other administration.
Under these heads may be reduced the whole body
of those whom I have all along understood for Whigs;
for I do not include within this number any of those
who have been misled by ignorance, or seduced by
plausible pretences, to think better of that sort of
men than they deserve, and to apprehend mighty
danger from their disgrace; because I believe the
'greatest part of such well-meaning people are now
thoroughly converted.
And, indeed, it must be allowed that the two fan-
tastic names of Whig and Tory have at present very
little relation to those opinions which were at first
thought to distinguish them. Whoever formerly pro-
fessed himself to approve the revolution, to be against
the pretender, to justify the succession in the house
of Hanover, to think the British monarchy not ab-
solute, but limited by laws which the executive
power could not dispense with, and to allow an in-
| dulgence to scrupulous consciences; such man was
content to be called a Whig. On the other side,
whoever asserted the queen's hereditary right, that
the persons of princes were sacred, their lawful
authority not to be resisted on any pretence, nor
even their usurpations without the most extreme
necessity, that breaches in the succession were highly
dangerous, that schism was a great evil, both in itself
and its consequences, that the ruin of the church
THE EXAMINER.
319
1
{
would probably be attended with that of the state,
that no power should be trusted with those who are
not of the established religion; such a man
usually called a Tory. Now, although the opinions
of both these are very consistent, and, I really think,
are maintained at present by a great majority of the
kingdom, yet, according as men apprehend the danger
greater, either from the pretender and his party, or
from the violence and cunning of other enemies to
the constitution, so their common discourses and
reasonings turn either to the first or second set of
these opinions I have mentioned; and they are con-
Which is
sequently styled either Whigs or Tories.
as if two brothers apprehended their house would
be set upon, but disagreed about the place whence
they thought the robbers would come, and therefore
would go on different sides to defend it; they must
needs weaken and expose themselves by such a sepa-
ration; and so did we, only our case was worse, for
in order to keep off a weak remote enemy, from
whom we could not suddenly apprehend any danger,
we took a nearer and a stronger one into the house.
I make no comparison at all between the two enc-
mies; popery and slavery are, without doubt, the
greatest and most dreadful of any; but I may venture
to affirm that the fears of these have not, at least
since the revolution, been so close and pressing
upon us as that from another faction, excepting only
one short period, when the leaders of that very fac-
tion invited the abdicating king to return, of which
I have formerly taken notice.
Having thus declared what sort of persons I have
always meant under the denomination of Whigs, it
will be easy to show whom I understand by Tories.
Such whose principles in church and state are what
I have above related; whose actions are derived
thence, and who have no attachment to any set of
ministers further than as they are friends to the con-
stitution in all its parts; but who will do their
utmost to save their prince and country, whoever be
at the helm.
By these descriptions of Whig and Tory, I am
sensible those names are given to several persons
very undeservedly; and that many a man is called
by one or the other who has not the least title to the
blame or praise I have bestowed on each of them
throughout my papers.
No. 45.
THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 1711.
Magna vis est, magnum nomen, unum et idem sentientis senatus.
Great is the name and authority of a senate in which unanimity
prevails.
WHOEVER calls to mind the clamour and the calumny,
the artificial fears and jealousies, the shameful mis-
representation of persons and of things, that were
raised and spread by the leaders and instruments of
a certain party upon the change of the last ministry
and dissolution of the parliament, if he be a true
lover of his country, must feel a mighty pleasure,
although mixed with some indignation, to see the
wishes, the conjectures, the endeavours of an in-
veterate faction entirely disappointed, and this im-
portant period wholly spent in restoring the pre-
rogative of the prince, and liberty to the subject;
in reforming past abuses, and preventing future ;
supplying old deficiencies, providing for debts, re-
storing the clergy to their rights, and taking care of
the necessities of the church; and all this unattended
with any of those misfortunes which some men hoped
for, while they pretended to fear.
For my own part, I must confess the difficulties
|
appeared so great to me, from such a noise and show
of opposition, that I thought nothing but the absolute
necessity of affairs could ever justify so daring an
attempt.
attempt. But a wise and good prince, at the head
of an able ministry and of a senate freely chosen, all
united to pursue the true interest of their country,
is a power against which the little inferior politics of
any faction will be able to make no long resistance.
To this we may add one additional strength, which,
in the opinion of our adversaries, is the greatest and
mean the vox populi, so indisputably
justest of any;
declarative on the same side. I am apt to believe,
when these discarded politicians begin seriously to
consider all this, they will think it proper to give out,
and reserve their wisdom for some more convenient
juncture.
It is pleasant enough to observe that those who
were the chief instruments of raising the noise, who
started fears, bespoke dangers, and formed ominous
prognostics, in order to scare the allies, to spirit the
French, and fright ignorant people at home, made
use of those very opinions themselves had broached
for arguments to prove that the change of ministers
was dangerous and unseasonable. But if a house be
swept, the more occasion there is for such a work,
the more dust it will raise; if it be going to ruin, the
repairs, however necessary, will make a noise and
And as to the
disturb the neighbourhood a while.
rejoicings made in France, if it be true that they had
any, upon the news of those alterations among us,
their joy was grounded upon the same hopes with
that of the Whigs, who comforted themselves that
the change of ministry and parliament would infal-
libly put us all into confusion, increase our divisions,
and destroy our credit, wherein I suppose by this
time they are equally undeceived.
But this long session being in a manner ended,
which several circumstances, and one accident alto-
gether unforeseen, have drawn out beyond the usual
time, it may be some small piece of justice to so
excellent an assembly barely to mention a few of
those great things they have done for the service of
their queen and country, which I shall take notice
of just as they come to my memory.
The credit of the nation began mightily to suffer
by a discount upon exchequer-bills, which have been
generally reckoned the surest and most sacred of al
securities. The present lord-treasurer, then a mem-i
ber of the house of commons, proposed a method,
which was immediately complied with, of raising
them to a par with species; and so they have ever
since continued.
The British colonies of Nevis and St. Christopher's
had been miserably plundered by the French, their
houses burnt, their plantations destroyed, and many
of the inhabitants carried away prisoners; they had
often, for some years past, applied in vain for relief
from hence, until the present parliament, considering
their condition as a case of justice and mercy, voted
them one hundred thousand pounds by way of re-
compence in sonic manner for their sufferings.
Some persons whom the voice of the nation au-
thorises me to call her enemies, taking advantage of
the general naturalization act, had invited over a
great number of foreigners of all religions, under
the name of Palatines, who understood no trade or
handicraft, yet rather chose to beg than labour, who,
beside infesting our streets, bred contagious diseases,
by which we lost in natives thrice the number of
what we gained in foreigners. The house of com-
mons, as a remedy against this evil, brought in a bill
for repealing that act of general naturalization, which,
to the surprise of most people, was rejected by the
lords. And upon this occasion I must allow myself
$
>
350
THE EXAMINER.
to have been justly rebuked by one of my weekly
monitors, for pretending in a former paper to hope
that law would be repealed, wherein the commons
being disappointed, took care however to send many
of the Palatines away, and to represent their being
invited over as a pernicious counsel.
The qualification-bill, incapacitating all men to
serve in parliament who have not some estate in land
either in possession or certain reversion, is perhaps
the greatest security that ever was contrived for pre-
serving the constitution, which otherwise might in a
little time lie wholly at the mercy of the moneyed
interest. And since much the greatest part of the
taxes is paid either immediately from land or from
its productions, it is but common justice that those
who are the proprietors should appoint what portion
of it ought to go to the support of the public; other-
wise the engrossers of money would be apt to lay
heavy loads on others, which themselves never touch
with one of their fingers.
The public debts were so prodigiously increased
by the negligence and corruption of those who had
been managers of the revenue, that the late ministers,
like careless men who run out their fortunes, were
so far from any thoughts of payment that they had
not the courage to state or compute them. The
parliament found that thirty-five millions had never
been accounted for; and that the debt on the navy,
wholly unprovided for, amounted to nine millions.
The late chancellor of the exchequer [earl of Oxford],
suitable to his transcendent genius for public affairs,
proposed a fund to be security for that immense
debt, which is now confirmed by a law, and is likely
to prove the greatest restoration and establishment
of the kingdom's credit. Not content with this,
the legislature has appointed commissioners of ac-
compts to inspect into past mismanagements of the
public money, and prevent them for the future.
I have in a former paper mentioned the act for
building fifty new churches in London and West-
minster, with a fund appropriated for that pious and
noble work. But while I am mentioning acts of
piety, it would be unjust to conceal my lord high-
treasurer's concern for religion, which has extended
even to another kingdom; his lordship having some
months ago obtained of her majesty the first-fruits
and tenths to the clergy of Ireland, as he is known.
to have before done to that reverend body here.
The act for carrying on a trade to the South Sea,
proposed by the same great person, whose thoughts.
are perpetually employed, and ever with success, on
the good of his country, will, in all probability, if
duly executed, be of mighty advantage to the king-
dom, and an everlasting honour to the present par-
liament.
I might go on further and mention that season-
able law against excessive gaming, and putting a
stop to that scandalous fraud of false musters in the
guards; the diligent and effectual inquiry made by
the commons into several gross abuses. I might
produce many instances of their impartial justice in
deciding controverted elections, against former ex-
ample and great provocations to retaliate. I might
show their cheerful readiness in granting such vast
supplies; their great unanimity, not to be broken by
all the arts of a malicious and cunning faction; their
unfeigned duty to the queen; and lastly, that repre-
sentation made to her majesty from the house of
Commons, discovering such a spirit and disposition
in that noble assembly to redress all those evils
which a long maladministration had brought upon
Us.
|
It is probable that, trusting only to my memory,
I may have omitted many things of great import- j
ance; neither do I pretend farther in the compass o
this paper than to give the world some general,
however imperfect, idea, bow worthily this great as-
sembly has discharged the trust of those who so
freely chose them; and what we may reasonably
hope and expect from the piety, courage, wisdom,
and loyalty of such excellent patriots, in a time so
fruitful of occasions to exert the greatest abilities.
And now I conceive the main design I had in
writing these papers is fully executed. A great ma-
jority of the nation is at length thoroughly convinced
that the queen proceeded with the highest wisdom
in changing her ministry and parliament: that under
a former administration the greatest abuses of all
kinds were committed, and the most dangerous at-
tempts against the constitution for some time in-
tended. The whole kingdom finds the present
persons in power directly and openly pursuing the
true service of their queen and country; and to be
such whom their most bitter enemies cannot tax
with bribery, covetousness, ambition, pride, inso-
lence, or any pernicious principles in religion or
government.
For my own particular, those little barking curs
which have so constantly pursued me, I cake to be
of no further consequence to what I have written
than the scoffing slaves of old, placed behind the
chariot to put the general in mind of his mortality;
which was but a thing of form, and made no stop or
disturbance in the show. However, if those per-
petual snarlers against me had the same design, I
must own they have effectually compassed it;
nothing can well be more mortifying than to reflect
that I am of the same species with creatures capable
of uttering so much scurrility, dulness, falsehood,
and impertinence, to the scandal and disgrace of hu-
man nature.
No. 16.
THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 1711.
Melius non tangere clamo.
since
WHEN a general has conquered an army, and re-
duced a country to obedience, he often finds it neces-
sary to send out small bodies, in order to take in
petty castles and forts, and beat little straggling
parties which are otherwise apt to make head and
infest the neighbourhood. This case exactly resemi-
bles mine. I count the main body of the Whigs
entirely subdued; at least, till they appear with
new reinforcements I shall reckon them as such ;
and therefore do now find myself at leisure to ex-
amine inferior abuses. The business I have left is,
to fall on those wretches that will be still keeping
the war on foot, when they have no country to de-
fend, no forces to bring into the field, nor anything
remaining but their bare good will toward faction
and mischief: I mean the present set of writers,
whom I have suffered, without molestation, so long
to infest the town. Were there not a concurrence
from prejudice, party, weak understanding, and mis-
representation, I should think them too inconsider-
able in themselves to deserve correction. But as my
endeavour has been to expose the gross impositions
of the fallen party, I will give a taste in the following
petition of the sincerity of these their factors, to
show how little those writers for the Whigs were
guided by conscience or honour, their business being
only to gratify a prevailing interest.
"To the Right Honourable the present Ministry:
the humble Petition of the Party-writers to the
late Ministry-
(
THE EXAMINER.
"HUMBLY SHEWETH,
"That your petitioners have served their time to
the trade of writing pamphlets and weekly papers in
defence of the Whigs, against the church of England,
and the christian religion, and her majesty's preroga-
tive, and her title to the crown: That, since the late
change of ministry and meeting of this parliament,
the said trade is mightily fallen off, and the call for
the said pamphlets and papers much less than for-
merly; and it is feared to our further prejudice that
the Examiner may discontinue writing, whereby
some of your petitioners will be brought to utter
distress, forasmuch as, through false quotations,
noted absurdities, and other legal abuses, many of
your petitioners, to their great comfort and support,
were enabled to pick up a weekly subsistence out of
the said Examiner.
"That your said poor petitioners did humbly offer
351
your honours to write in defence of the late change
of ministry and parliament, much cheaper than they
did for your predecessors; which
which your honours were
pleased to refuse.
“Notwithstanding which offer, your petitioners
are under daily apprehension that your honours will
forbid them to follow the said trade any longer, by
which your petitioners, to the number of fourscore,
with their wives and families, will inevitably starve,
having been bound to no other calling.
"Your petitioners desire your honours will ten-
derly consider the premises, and suffer your said
petitioners to continue their trade (those who set
them at work being still willing to employ them,
though at lower rates), and your said petitioners
will give security to make use of the same stuff, and
dress in the same manner, as they always did, and
no other. And your petitioners," &c.
279
Low Chinel forty
1
XX V
Any 177
Tranży
XXXVIII Man 24 153
lxv 28.3.05