LETTER LXXII. From Dr. SwIFT. Nov. 1, 1734. I ments. Have yours with my Lord B's Poftfcript of Septem ber 15: it was long on its way, and for fome weeks af ter the date I was very ill with my two inveterate diforders, giddinefs and deafnefs. The latter is pretty well off; but the other makes me totter towards evenings, and much difpirits me. But I continue to ride and walk, both of which, although they be no cures, are at leaft amuseI did never imagine you to be either inconftant, or to want right notions of friendship, but I apprehend your want,of health; and it hath been a frequent wonder to me how you have been able to entertain the world, fo long, fo frequently, fo happily, under fo many bodily disorders. My Lord B. fays you have been three months rambling, which is the best thing you can poffibly do in a fummer fcafon; and when the winter recalls you, we will, for our own interes, leave you to your fpeculations. God be thanked, I have done with every thing, and of every kind that requires writing, except now and then a letter, or, like a true old man, fcribling trifles only fit for children or fchool-boys of the lowest class at beft, which three or four of us read and laugh at to-day, and burn to-morrow. Yet, what is fingular, I never am without fome great work in view, enough to take up forty years of the moft vigorous healthy man: although I am convinced that I fhall never be able to finish three Treatifes, that have lain by me feveral years, and want nothing but correction. My Lord B. faid in his postscript, that you would go to Bath in three days: we fince heard that you were dangerously ill there, and that the newsmongers gave you over. But a gentleman of this kingdom, on his return from Bath, affured me he left you well, and fo did fome others whom I have forgot. I am forry at my heart that you are peftered with people who come in my name, and I profefs to you, it is without my knowledge. I am confident I fhall hardly ever have occafion again to recommend, for my friends here are very few, and fixed to the freehold, from whence nothing but death will remove them. Surely I never doubted about your Effay on Man: and I would lay any odds, that I would never fail to discover you in fix lines, unless you you had a mind to write below or befide yourself on purpose. I confefs I did never imagine you were fo deep in Morals, or that fo many new and excellent rules could be produced fo advantageously and agreeably in that science, from any one head. I confefs in fome few places I was forced to read twice, I believe I told you before what the Duke of Dfaid to me on that occafion, How a judge here, who knows you, told him that on the first reading thofe Effays, he was much pleated, but found fome lines a little dark: On the fecond most of them cleared up, and his pleasure increafed: On the third he had no doubt remained, and then he admired the whole. My Lord B's attempt of reducing Metaphyfics to intelligible fenfe and usefulness, will be a glorious undertaking, as I never knew him fail in any thing he attempted, if he had the fole management, fo I am confident he will fucceed in this. I defire you will allow that I write to you both at prefent, and fo I fhall while I live: It faves your money, and my time; and he being your Genius, no matter to which it is addreffed. I am happy that what you write is printed in large letters; otherwife between the weakness of my eyes, and the thicknefs of my hearing, I should lose the greatest pleasure that is left me. Pray command my Lord B. to follow that example, if I live to read his Metaphyfics. Pray God blefs you both. I had a melancholy account from the Doctor of his health. I will anfwer his letter as foon as I @an. I am ever entirely yours. LETTER LXXIII. Twickenham, Dce. 19, 1734. Am truly forry for any complaint you have, and it is in regard to the weakness of your eyes that I write (as well as print) in folio. You'll think (I think you will, for you have all the candour of a good understanding) that the thing which men of our age feel the moft, is the friendship of our equals; and that therefore whatever affects those who are ftept a few years before us, cannot but fenfibly affect who are to follow. It troubles me to hear you complain of your memory, and if I am in any part of my conftitution younger than you, it will be in my remembering every thing that has pleafed me in you, longer than perhaps you will. The two fummers we pais'd together dwell always in my mind, like a vifion which gave me a glympfe of a us better better life and better company, than this world otherwife afforded. I am now an individual, upon whom no other depends; and may go where I will, if the wretched carcafe I am annex'd to did not hinder me. I rambled by very eafy journeys this year to Lord Bathurst and Lord Peterborow, who upon every occafion commemorate, love, and wifh for you. I now pafs my days between Dawley, London, and this place, not ftudious, nor idle, rather polifhing old works than hewing out new. I redeem now and then a paper that hath been abandon'd several years; and of this fort you'll foon fee one, which I inscribe to our old friend Arbuthnot. Thus far I had written, and thinking to finish my letter the fame evening, was prevented by company, and the next morning found myfelf in a fever, highly diforder'd, and fo continued in bed for five days, and in my chamber till now; but fo well recovered as to hope to go abroad to-morrow, even by the advice of Dr. Arbuthnot. He himself, poor man, is much broke, tho' not worse than for these two last months he has been. He took extremely kind your letter. I wish to God we could once meet again, before that feparation, which yet, I would be glad to believe, fhall reunite us; But he who made us, not for ours, but his purposes, knows only whether it be for the better or the worse, that the affections of this life fhould or fhould not continue into the other; and doubtless it is as it fhould be. Yet I am fure that while I am here, and the thing that I am, I fhall be imperfect without the communication of fuch friends as you: you are to me like a limb loft, and buried in another country; tho' we seem quite divided, every accident makes me feel you were once a part of me. I always confider you so much as a friend, that I forget you are an author, perhaps too much, but 'tis as much as I would defire you would do to me. However, if I could infpirit you to beftow correction upon those three Treatifes, which you fay are fo near compleated, I fhould think it a better work than any I can pretend to of my own. I am almoft at the end of my Morals, as I've been, long ago, of my Wit; my fyftem is a short one, and my circle narrow. Imagination has no limits, and that is a sphere in which you may move on to eternity; but where one is confined to Truth (or to speak more like a human creature, to the appearances of Truth) we foon find the fhortness of our Tether. Indeed by the help of a metaphyfical chain of Ideas, one may extend the circulation, go round and round for ever, without making any any progrefs beyond the point to which providence has pinn'd us: But this does not fatisfy me, who would rather fay a little to no purpose, than a great deal. Lord B. is voluminous, but he is voluminous only to destroy volumes. I fhall not live, I fear, to see that work printed; he is fo taken up ftill (in fpite of the monitory hint given in the first line of my Effay) with particular Men, that he neglects mankind, and is ftill a creature of this World, not of the Univerfe: This World, which is a name we give to Europe, to England, to Ireland, to London, to Dublin, to the Court, to the Castle, and so diminishing till it comes to our own affairs, and to our own perfons. When you write (either to him or to me, for we accept it all as one) rebuke him for it, as a Divine, if you like it, or as a Badineur, if you think that more effectual. What I write will fhow you that my head is yet weak. I had written to you by that gentleman from the Bath, but I did not know him, and every body that comes from Ireland pretends to be a friend of the Dean's. I am always glad to fee any that are truly fo, and therefore do not miftake any thing I faid, fo as to difcourage your fending any fuch to me. Adieu. LETTER LXXIV. From Dr. SWIFT. May 12, 1735. YOUR letter was fent me yefterday by Mr. Stopford, who landed the fame day, but I have not yet feen him. As to my filence, God knows it is my great miffortune. My little domeftic affairs are in great confufion, by the villainy of agents, and the miferies of this kingdom, where there is no money to be had: nor am I unconcern'd to fee all things tending towards abfolute power, in both nations* (it is here in perfection already) although I fhall not live to fee it eftablifhed. This condition of things, both public and perfonal to myself, hath given me fuch a kind of defpondency, that I am almoft unqualified for any company, diverfion or amufement. The death of Mr. Gay and the Doctor, hath been terrible wounds near my heart. Their living would have been a great comfort * The Dean was frequently troubled, he tells us, with a giddiness in his head. to to me, although I fhould never have feen them: like a fum of money in a bank, from which I should receive at leaft annual intereft, as I do from you, and have done from my Lord Bolingbroke. To fhew in how much ignorance I live, it is hardly a fortnight fince I heard of the death of my Lady Mafham, my conftant friend in alt changes of times. God forbid that I fhould expect you to make a voyage that would in the least affect your health: but in the mean time how unhappy am I, that my best friend should have perhaps the only kind of diforder for which a fea-voyage is not in fome degree a remedy? The old Duke of Ormond faid, he would not change his dead fon (Offory) for the best living fon in Europe. Neither would I change you my abfent friend for the beft present friend round the Globe. I have lately read a book imputed to Lord B. called a Differtation on Parties. I think it very mafterly written. Pray God reward you for your kind prayers: I believe your prayers will do me more good than those of all the Prelates in both kingdoms, or any Prelates in Europe, except the Bishop of Marseilles. And God preferve you for contributing more to mend the world, than the whole pack of (modern) Parfons in a lump. I am ever entirely yours. LETTER LXXV. From Dr. SWIFT. Sept. 3, 1735 THIS letter will be delivered to you by Faulkner the printer, who goes over on his private affairs. This is an answer to yours of two months ago which complains of that profligate fellow Curl. I heartily wish you were what they call difaffected, as I am. I may fay, as David did, I have finned greatly, but what have thefe fheep done? You have given no offence to the Miniftry, nor to the Lords, nor Commons, nor Queen, nor the next in power. For you are a man of virtue, and therefore muft abhor vice and all corruption, although your discretion holds the reins. "You need not fear any confequence in the com *Who continued there with his flock all the time a dreadful peftilence defolated that city. 66 merçe |