TO ARCHBISHOP KING. MY LORD, Gallstown, near Kinnegad, I HAD the honour of your grace's letter of the 1st instant; and although I thought it my duty to be the last writer in corresponding with your grace, yet I know you are so punctual, that if I should write sooner it would only be the occasion of giving you a new trouble, before it ought in conscience to be put upon you. Besides, I was in some pain that your letter of September 1st, was not the first you had writ, because, about ten days after, a friend sent me word, that your grace said you had writ to me six weeks before, and had no answer; whereas I can assure your grace that I received but one from you; nor had I reason to expect it, having not done myself the honour to write to you before. I will tell you the secret of dating my letter; I was in fear lest the post should be gone, and so left a blank, and wisely huddled it up without thinking of the date; but we country gentlemen are frequently guilty of greater blunders; and in that article I grow more perfect every day. I believe you seriously that you will take care of your health, to prevent a successor; that is to say, I believe you tell truth in jest; for I know it is not the value of life that makes you desire to live, and am afraid the world is much of your mind; for it is out of regard to the public, or some of themselves, more than upon your own account, that they wish your continuance among us. It seems you are a greater favourite of the lieu tenant's* than you care to own; for we hear that he killed but two bucks, and sent you a present of one. I hear you are likely to be the sole opposer of the bank: † and you will certainly miscarry, because it would prove a most perfidious thing. Bankrupts are always for setting up banks: how then can you think a bank will fail of a majority in both. houses? You are very perverse, my lord, in misinterpreting the ladies' favour, as if you must die to obtain it; I assure you it is directly contrary, and if you die, you will lose their favour for ever: I am commanded to tell you so; and therefore at the peril of your life, and of their good graces, look to your health. I hear the bishop of Bangor, ‡ despairing of doing any good with you, has taken up with Hereford. I am a plain man, and would be glad at any time to see fifty such bishops hanged, if I could thereby have saved the life of his predecessor, for whom I had a great esteem and friendship. I do not much approve the compliments made you by comparisons drawn from good and bad emperors, because the inference falls short on both sides. If Julian had immediately succeeded Constantine, it would have been more to the purpose. Sir James of the Peak said to Bouchier the gamester, "Sirrah, I shall look better than you, when I have been * Charles Duke of Grafton. + At this time there was a proposal for a national bank in Ireland; which was rejected by parliament.-F. Dr Benjamin Hoadley.-F. Sir James of the Peak, called sometimes Sir James Baker, was a notorious gambler of that time. a month in my grave." A great man in England was blaming me for despising somebody or other; I assured him I did not at all despise the man he mentioned: that I was not so liberal of my contempt; nor would bestow it where there was not some degree of merit. Upon this principle, I can see no proper ground of opposition between your grace, and that wretch of Bangor. I have read indeed, that a dog was once made king of Norway, but I forgot who was his predecessor; and therefore am at a loss for the other part of the comparison. I am afraid the clatter of ladies tongues is no very good cure for a giddiness in the head. When your grace (as you say) was young, as I am not, the ladies were better company, or you more easily pleased. I am perpetually reproaching them for their ignorance, affectation, impertinence (but my paper will not hold all) except Lady Betty Rochfort, your old acquaintance. I own my head and your grace's feet would be ill joined; but give me your head and take my feet, and match us in the kingdom if you can. My lord, I row after health like a waterman, and ride after it like a post-boy, and find some little success; but subeunt morbi tristisque senectus. I have a receipt to which you are a stranger; my Lord Oxford and Mr Prior used to join with me in taking it; to whom I often said, when we were two hours diverting ourselves with trifles, vive la bagatelle: I am so deep among the workmen at Rochfort's canals and lakes, so dextrous at the oar, such an alderman after the hare See the lively poem entitled "The Country Life," describing the pastimes of Gallstown, Vol. XIV. p. 168. I am just now told from some newspapers, that one of the king's enemies, and my excellent friend, Mr Prior,* is dead; I pray God deliver me from many such trials. I am neither old nor philosopher enough to be indifferent at so great a loss; and therefore I abruptly conclude, but with the greatest respect, my Lord, Your grace's most dutiful, TO THE REV. MR JACKSON, AT GALLSTOWN. † Dublin, Oct. 6, 1721. I HAD no mind to load you with the secret of my going, because you should bear none of the blame. I fell upon a supposition that Mr Rochfort had a mind to keep me longer, which I will allow in him and you, but not one of the family besides, who I confess had reason enough to be weary of a man, * He died Sept. 18, 1721. + Copied from the original in the possession of two Irish ladies of the name of Shenton (daughters of a late precentor of Christ-church, Dublin.)-N. From this curious letter, it appears that Swift had decamped as suddenly from Gallstown, as he afterwards did from Pope's house in England. In the latter case his excuse was too legitimate, being the dangerous illness of Stella. In the former it can only be traced to a sudden fit of humour or spleen, which was misrepresented into disrespect for the family in which he had been so hospitably entertained. See the introductory note to the "Country Life." who entered into none of their tastes, nor pleasures, nor fancies, nor opinions, nor talk. I baited at Clencurry, and got to Leslip between three and four, saw the curiosities there, and the next morning came to Dublin by eight o'clock, and was at prayers in my cathedral. There's a traveller. I forgot a long treatise copied by my Irish secretary, which I lent Clem. Barry.-Pray get it from him, and seal it up, and keep it, till you get a convenience of sending it. Desire Lady Betty to give you the old silver box that I carried the comfits in; it belongs to poor Mrs Brent, and she asked me for it with a sigh. You may trust it with Arthur. You are now happy, and have nobody to tease you to the oar or the saddle. You can sit in your nightgown till noon without any reproaches. I left a note for you with James Doyl, with commissions which I hope you will fulfil, though you borrow the money; I will certainly be out of your debt in all articles between us when you come to town, or before, if you draw a bill upon me, for now I have money and value no man. I am told your tribe here is all well, though I have seen none but Jack Jackson. Farewell, go to cards, and lose your money with great gravity. My service to all your girls. I gave James Doyl two crowns, and a strict order to take care of [my] gray-colt, which I desire you will second. I had a perfect summer journey, and if I had staid much longer, I should have certainly had a winter one, which, with weak horses and bad roads, would have been a very unpleasant thing. JON. SWIFT. |