will be of great use; and therefore I hope you will lose no time, but come away, and I will fit up an apartment for you in Queen's Square, and another at Sheen (which I hope you will accept,) places that I shall hardly be able to see this year.

Mr. Pilkington gains daily upon us, and comes out a facetious, agreeable fellow. I carried him the other day to see her grace of Bucks in the Park. Her grace seeing him, asked, Who he was? I answered, "He was a present from you from Dublin.” She smilingly replied, "He is no fool then, I am

sure."

I shall conclude a long dull letter, with my sincere wishes for your health and prosperity, and that you would not delay one hour coming to bless your friends here with your company; which by none is more desired than, Sir,

Your most obedient,

and most humble servant,

J. BARBER.

FROM LADY BETTY GERMAIN.

February 28, 1732-3.

I RECEIVED yours of the 8th of January but last week, so find it has lain long on the road after the date. It was brought me while at dinner, that very lady sitting close to me, whom you seem to think such an absolute courtier.* She knew your hand, and inquired much after you, as she always does;

*The Countess of Suffolk.-H.

but I, finding her name frequently mentioned, not with that kindness I am sure she deserves, put it into my pocket with silence and surprise. Indeed, were it in people's power, that live in a court with the appearance of favour, to do all they desire with their friends, they might deserve their anger, and be blamed, when it does not happen right to their minds; but that, I believe, never was the case of any one and in this particular of Mr. Gay, thus far I know, and so far I will answer for, that she was under very great concern, that nothing better could be got for him: and the friendship upon all other occasions in her own power, that she shewed him, did not look like a double-dealer.

As to that part concerning yourself and her, I suppose it is my want of comprehension, that I cannot find out why she was to blame to give you advice, when you asked it, that had all the appearance of sincerity, good-nature, and right judgment. And if, after that, the court did not do what you wanted, and she both believed and wished they would, was it her fault? At least, I cannot find out that you have hitherto proved it upon her. And though you say, you lamented the hour you had seen her, yet I cannot tell how to suppose that your good sense and justice can impute anything to her, because it did not fall out just as she endeavoured, and hoped it would.

As to your creed in politics, I will heartily and sincerely subscribe to it, (that I detest avarice in courts, corruption in ministers, schisms in religion, illiterate fawning betrayers of the church in mitres.) But, at the same time, I prodigiously want an infallible judge to determine when it is really so: for as I have lived longer in the world, and seen many changes, I know those out of power and place always see the faults of those in, with dreadful

large spectacles; and, I dare say, you know many instances of it in Lord Oxford's time. But the strongest in my memory is Sir Robert Walpole, being first pulled to pieces in the year 1720, because the South Sea did not rise high enough, and since that, he has been to the full as well banged about, because it did rise too high. So experience has taught me how wrong, unjust, and senseless, party factions are; therefore, I am determined never wholly to believe any side or party against the other; and to shew that I will not, as my friends are in and out of all sides, so my house receives them altogether; and those people meet here, that have, and would fight in any other place. Those of them that have great and good qualities and virtues, I love and admire; in which number is Lady Suffolk; and I do like and love her, because I believe, and, as far as I am capable of judging, know her to be a wise, discreet, honest, and sincere courtier, who will promise no farther than she can perform, and will always perform what she does promise; so, now, you have my creed as to her.

I thought I had told you in my last, at least I am sure I designed it, that I desire you would do just as you like about the monument; and then it will be most undoubtedly approved by

Your most sincere and faithful servant,
E. GERMAIN.

TO THE EARL OF OXFORD.

MY LORD,

Dublin, February 16, 1732-3.

THE bearer, Mr. Faulkner, the prince of Dublin printers, will have the honour to deliver you this. He tells me, your lordship was so gracious as to admit him into your presence, and receive him with great condescension, which encouraged him to hope for the same favour again, by my mediation, which I could not refuse. Although, for his own profit, he is engaged in a work that very much discontents me, yet I would rather have it fall into his hands, than any other's on this side.

I am just recovered, in some degree, of two cruel indispositions, of giddiness and deafness, after seven months. I have got my hearing; but the other evil hangs still about me, and I doubt will never quite leave me, until I leave it.

I hope your Lordship, and Lady Oxford, and Lady Margaret, continue in perfect health. I pray God preserve you all, for the good of your friends, and your country.

I am, with entire respect and esteem,

Your Lordship's most obedient,

and most obliged servant,

JON. SWIFT.

FROM MR. POPE.

February 16, 1732-3.

It is indeed impossible to speak on such a subject as the loss of Mr. Gay, to me an irreparable one. But I send you what I intend for the inscription on his tomb, which the Duke of Queensberry will set up at Westminster. As to his writings, he left no will, nor spoke a word of them, or anything else, during his short and precipitate illness, in which I attended him to his last breath. The duke has acted more than the part of a brother to him, and it will be strange if the sisters do not leave his papers totally to his disposal, who will do the same that I would with them. He has managed the comedy,* (which our poor friend gave to the playhouse the week before his death,) to the utmost advantage for his relations; and proposes to do the same with some fablest he left finished.

There is nothing of late which I think of more than mortality, and what you mention, of collecting the best monuments we can of our friends, their own images in their writings: for those are the best, when their minds are such as Mr. Gay's was, and as yours is. I am preparing also for my own, and have nothing so much at heart, as to shew the silly world. that men of wit, or even poets, may be the most moral of mankind. A few loose things sometimes

* "The Wife of Bath;" which, in truth, is but an indifferent comedy. Dr. WARTON.

+ The second volume of the Fables is much inferior to the first; particularly on account of the long and languid introductions to each fable, which read like party pamphlets.-Dr. WARTON.