covery, I think you ought to fly to us; for, if Dublin be in danger, the deanery-house cannot be a safe retreat for you. I wish anything would send Barber here; for I was at the Bath to see some of my friends, and was forced to swear that only the want of health kept her book from being published. I am sure you would be glad to hear, that a lady of very good understanding, that is a particular friend of mine, comes to me next week to stay while I do: her name is Rooke, Admiral Rooke's son's lady.

FROM LADY BETTY GERMAIN.

June 5, 1733.

got the

gout

HAS Mr. Stafford Lightburne's friend in his fingers? Or is he so busy in measuring the water, and casting a figure to know the exact time

Dublin to Tallow Hill, to take a prospect of the adjacent country. As they were mounting a rock, they observed a stream running through the middle of it, which fell into a natural basin, and was thence conveyed through some subterraneous cavities; but they could not anywhere discover by what secret passage it was conveyed out again; so that they concluded the waters were still in some reservoir within the bowels of the hill, which must infallibly come to burst forth in time, and fall directly upon the city. The Doctor sent for a milking-pail, to compute what quantity ran out, which held two gallons, and it was filled in the space of a minute; so that it runs in 24 hours 2880 gallons. This multiplied by 365, produces 1,051,200, and shews the quantity that runs from the rock in a year; so that in three years, about the 13th of November, he computed that it must burst the body of the mountain, and emit an inundation, which will run to all points of the Boyne, and greatly endanger the city of Dublin."

when to set his friends a-swimming, that he cannot find one moment to let me know that he received my letter, written a month ago, to inform you that his grace would cheerfully and readily obey your commands? However, I am again ordered by him. to tell you, that the warrant will be sent to Dublin by next post; so pray let Mr. Lightburne be ready to make his personal appearance, lest they should not else know how to find him. It was well you needed no intercessor to his grace; and that the nopromise from him, and the one-word from you, is of much more weight than my rhetoric: for I have been so horridly used by a nasty griping brother black-coat, in a small three and sixpence affair of my own, that I do not know whether I should not have done like you of the faction, revenge myself of the innocent for the sake of one bishop and minister, that, I say, have cheated, fleeced, and flead me, just as if they had been South-Sea or East-India directors.

You are angry, if I do not mention Mrs. Floyd to you; so, I must tell you, she is gone for a little time into the country, to try if that will ever cure her cough. I am heartily sorry for your new friend Mrs. Kelly, who writes in a desponding way to Mrs. Chamber about her health, and talks of going to Spa. This is a melancholy subject, and I hate to be vexed. So I will say no more of it, but adieu, my dear Dean, and let me hear from you soon.

TO MR. FAULKNER.

June 29, 1733

I DESIRE Mrs. Pilkington will deliver you the paper relating to Gulliver, which I left with her husband. For, since you intend to print a new edition of that book, I must tell you, that the English printer made several alterations which I much disapprove of, and cannot set them right without those papers.

If I am not mistaken, Mr. Pilkington hath an edition of Gulliver, where the true original copy is interleaved in manuscript; I desire I may also see that book. I am your humble servant,

JON. SWIFT.

TO MR. POPE.

Dublin, July 8, 1733.

I MUST condole with you for the loss of Mrs. Pope, of whose death the papers have been full. But I would rather rejoice with you, because, if any circumstances can make the death of a dear parent and friend a subject for joy, you have them all. She died in an extreme old age, without pain, under the care of the most dutiful son that I have ever known or heard of, which is a felicity not happening to one in a million. The worst effect of her death falls upon me; and so much the worse, because I expected aliquis damno usus in illo, that it would be

followed by making me and this kingdom happy with your presence. But I am told, to my great misfortune, that a very convenient offer happening, you waived the invitation pressed on you, alleging the fear you had of being killed here with eating and drinking. By which I find that you have given some credit to a notion of our great plenty and hospitality. It is true, our meat and wine is cheaper here, as it is always in the poorest countries, because there is no money to pay for them: I believe there are not in this whole city three gentlemen out of employment, who are able to give entertainments once a-month. Those who are in employments of church or state, are three parts in four from England, and amount to little more than a dozen: those indeed may once or twice invite their friends, or any person of distinction that makes a voyage hither. All my acquaintance tell me, they know not above three families where they can occasionally dine in a whole year: Dr. Delany is the only gentleman I know, who keeps one certain day in the week to entertain seven or eight friends at dinner, and to pass the evening, where there is nothing of excess, either in eating or drinking. Our old friend Southern (who has just left us) was invited to dinner once or twice by a judge, a bishop, or a commissioner of the revenues, but most frequented a few particular friends, and chiefly the Doctor,t who is easy in his fortune, and very hospitable. The conveniences of taking the air, winter or summer, do far exceed those in London. For the two large strands just at two edges of the town, are as firm and dry in winter, as in summer. There are at least six or eight gentlemen of sense, learning, good-humour, and taste, able and desirous

to please you, and orderly females, some of the better sort, to take care of you. These were the motives that I have frequently made use of to entice you hither. hither. And there would be no failure among the best people here, of any honours that could be done you. As to myself, I declare my health is so uncertain, that I dare not venture among you at present. I hate the thoughts of London, where I am not rich enough to live otherwise than by shifting, which is now too late. Neither can I have conveniences in the country for three horses and two servants, and many others which I have here at hand. I am one of the governors of all the hackney coaches, carts, and carriages, round this town, who dare not insult me like your rascally waggoners or coachmen, but give me the way; nor is there one lord or squire for a hundred of yours, to turn me out of the road, or run over me with their coaches and six.* Thus, I make some advantage of the public poverty, and give you the reasons for what I once writ, why I choose to be a freeman among slaves, rather than a slave among freemen. Then, I walk the streets in peace without being justled, nor even without a thousand blessings from my friends the vulgar. I am lord mayor of 120 houses, I am absolute lord of the greatest cathedral in the kingdom, am at peace with the neighbouring princes, the lord mayor of the city, and the Archbishop of Dublin; only the latter, like the King of France, sometimes attempts encroachments on my dominions, as old Lewis did upon Lorraine. In the midst of this raillery, I can tell you with serious

* It is remarkable, however, that Swift had occasion literally to complain of this insult in Ireland to the House of Peers, in the case of Lord Blaney, and to the public, in the second number of the Intelligencer, against Squire Ram of Gory, by whose carriage he was nearly ridden down.