Pray my lord how are the gardens? have you taken down the mount, and removed the yew hedges? have you not bad weather for the spring corn? has Mr Pope gone farther in his ethic poems? and is the head-land sown with wheat? and what says Polybius? and how does my Lord St John? which last question is very material to me, because I love burgundy, and riding between Twickenham and Dawley. I built a wall five years ago, and when the masons played the knaves, nothing delighted me so much as to stand by while my servants threw down what was amiss. I have likewise seèn a monkey overthrow all the dishes and plates in a kitchen, merely for the pleasure of seeing them tumble, and hearing the clatter they made in their fall. I wish you would invite me to such another entertainment; 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. I wonder you are not ashamed to let me pine away in this kingdom, while you are out of power.

I come from looking over the melange above written, and declare it to be a true copy of my present disposition, which must needs please you, since nothing was ever more displeasing to myself. I desire you to present my most humble respects to my lady.

JON. SWIFT.

FROM A QUAKER IN PHILADELPHIA.

Chilad, March 29, 1729.

FRIEND JONATHAN SWIFT, HAVING been often agreeably amused by thy Tale, &c. &c. and being now loading a small ship for Dublin, I have sent thee a gammon, the product of the wilds of America; which perhaps may not be unacceptable at thy table, since it is only designed to let thee know that thy wit and parts are here in esteem at this distance from the place of thy residence. Thou needest ask no questions who this comes from, since I am a perfect stranger to thee.

FROM LADY JOHNSON. *

[March 30, 1729.]

TO THE REV. THE DEAN OF ST PATRICKS.

HOND SR

I AM a Huckster and Lives in Strand Street & has Dealings with Several familys, a saterday Night a Case of Instruments † was sent me in pawn by a Certain person in Marys Street, for two Rowls a print of Butter four Herrings and three Nagins of strong Watters, My foster brother who ply's about the End of the town tells Me, he wanst saw it in

* Thus endorsed by Dr Swift; "The best letter I ever read."

-D. S.

+ It is not unlikely this was a present of a case of instruments from Lady Johnson to the Doctor.-D. S.

your hand, fearing Hawkins's* whip I send it to you, and will take an Other Course to gett My Money, so I Remain so I Remain your Hon's

Humble Saryt to Command

ye 30

MARTHA SHARP.

TO LORD BOLINGBROKE.

Dublin, April 5, 1729. I Do not think it could be possible for me to hear better news than that of your getting over your scurvy suit, which always hung as a dead weight on my heart; I hated it in all its circumstances, as it affected your fortune and quiet, and in a situation of life that must make it every way vexatious. And as I am infinitely obliged to you for the justice you do me in supposing your affairs do, at least concern me as much as my own; so I would never have pardoned your omitting it. But before I go on, I cannot forbear mentioning what I read last summer in a newspaper, that you were writing the history of your own times. I I suppose such a report might arise from what was not secret among your friends, of your intention to write another kind of history; which you often promised Mr Pope and me to do: I know he desires it very much, and I am sure I desire nothing more for the honour and love I bear you, and the perfect knowledge I have of your public virtue. My lord, I have no other notion of economy than that is the parent of liberty and ease, and I am not the only friend you have who has chid you in his heart for the neglect of it, though not

* Hawkins was keeper of Newgate.---D. S.

with his mouth, as I have done. For there is a silly error in the world, even among friends otherwise very good, not to intermeddle with men's affairs in such nice matters. And my lord, I have made a maxim, that should be writ in letters of diamonds, that a wise man ought to have money in his head, but not in his heart. Pray, my lord, inquire whether your prototype, my Lord Digby, after the restoration, when he was at Bristol, did not take some care of his fortune, notwithstanding that quotation I once sent you out of his speech to the House of Commons? In my conscience, I believe fortune, like other drabs, values a man gradually less for every year he lives. I have demonstration for it; because if I play at piquet for sixpence with a man' or woman two years younger than myself, I always lose; and there is a young girl of twenty who never fails of winning my money at backgammon, though she is a bungler, and the game be ecclesiastic. As to the public, I confess nothing could eure my itch of meddling with it but these frequent returns of deafness, which have hindered me from passing last winter in London; yet I cannot but consider the perfidiousness of some people, who, I thought, when I was last there, upon a change that happened, were the most impudent in forgetting their professions that I have ever known. Pray will you please to take your pen, and blot me out that political maxim from whatever book it is in, that Res nolunt diu male administrari; the commonness makes me not know who is the author, but sure he must be some modern. *

* Upon this adage, Bolingbroke was wont to justify his expectations of a change of administration.

I am sorry for Lady Bolingbroke's ill health; but I protest I never knew a very deserving person of that sex, who had not too much reason to complain of ill health. I never wake without finding life a more insignificant thing than it was the day before; which is one great advantage I get by living in this country, where there is nothing I shall be sorry to lose. But my greatest misery is recollecting the scene of twenty years past, and then all on a sudden dropping into the present. I remember, 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 my future disappointments. I should be ashamed to say this to you, if you had not a spirit fitter to bear your own misfortunes, than I have to think of them. Is there patience left to reflect, by what qualities wealth and greatness are got, and by what qualities they are lost? I have read my friend Congreve's verses to Lord Cobham, which end with a vile, and false moral, and I remember is not in Horace to Tibullus, which he imitates; "that all times are equally virtuous and vicious:" wherein he differs from all poets, philosophers, and Christians that ever writ. It is more probable that there may be an equal quantity of virtues always in the world, but sometimes there may be a peck of it in Asia, and hardly a thimbleful in Europe. But if there be no virtue, there is abundance of sincerity; for I will venture all I am worth, that there is not one human creature in power, who will not be modest enough to confess that he proceeds wholly upon a principle of corruption: I say this because I have a scheme, in spite of your notions, to govern England upon the principles of virtue, and when the nation