Dr. Swift wrote; and indeed, I believe in my conscience, it would be the making of me. There are a great many people of quality here this season; among others, lady Carteret, and Mrs. Spencer; who commanded me to make their best compliments to you. They came on Mrs. Spencer's account, who is better in her health since she drank these waters. I daily see such numbers of people mended by them, that I cannot but wish you would try them as you are sensible your disorders are chiefly occasioned by a cold stomach, I believe there is not any thing in this world so likely to cure that disorder as the Bath waters; which are daily found to be a sovereign remedy for disorders of that kind : I know, sir, you have no opinion of drugs, and why will you not try so agreeable a medicine, prepared by Providence alone? If you will not try for your own sake, why will you not, in pity to your country? O may that Being that inspired you to be its defence in the day of distress, influence you to take the best method to preserve a life of so much importance to an oppressed people! Before I conclude, gratitude obliges me to tell you, that Mr. Temple was here lately, and was exceedingly kind to me and my daughters. He made me a present of a hamper of very fine Madeira, which he said was good for the gout, and distinguished me in the kindest manner. He com * Daughter of lord Carteret, married, first to the honourable John Spencer, brother to the duke of Marlborough, and afterward to William, second earl Cowper. John Temple, esq., nephew of sir William Temple, whose grand daughter he married. He was brother to the late lord viscount Palmerston. manded manded me to make his best compliments to you, and says, he flatters himself, you will visit Moor park once again. Heaven grant you may! and that may be so blest as to see you, who am, with infinite respect and gratitude, your most obliged, most dutiful, humble servant, I MARY BARBER. DR. KING TO MRS. WHITEWAY. MADAM, PARIS, NOV. 9, o. s. 1736. As soon as ever you cast your eye on the date of this letter, you will pronounce me a rambler; and that is a charge I will not deny. How I was transported from Edinburgh to this place, requires more room to inform you than my paper will allow me. But I will give you a small hint; you know I am a Laplander*, and consequently I have the honour to be well acquainted with some witches of distinction. I speak in the phrase of this country: for the first man I spoke to in Paris, told me, he had the honour to live next door to Mr. Knight's, hatter. But to our business. I would not have you imagine I forgot my friends, or neglect the great affairs I have undertaken. The next letter you will receive from This alludes to the doctor's fine satire called THE TOAST, which he pretends was written originally in Latin by Frederick Scheffer, a Laplander. This poem is now exceedingly scarce. reprinted, but without (one of its principal beauties) the notes and observations, in the Foundling Hospital for Wit. VOL. XIII. X me me shall be dated from London, where I propose to arrive about the twentieth of this month. I will then put the little MS. to the press, and oblige the whole English nation. As to the history, the dean may be assured I will take care to supply the dates that are wanting, and which can easily be done in an hour or two. The tracts, if he pleases, may be printed by way of appendix. This will be indeed less trouble than the interweaving them in the body of the history, and will do the author as much honour, and answer the purpose full as well. This is all I need say in answer to that part of your letter, which is serious: for I hope you are not in earnest, when you throw out such horrible reflections against my friends in Scotland. Will you believe me, when I tell you upon my word, that I was entertained with the greatest politeness and delicacy during my short stay in that country? I found every thing as neat and clean in the houses, where I had my quarters, as even you could desire. I cannot indeed much commend Edinburgh; and yet the sks, which are so much complained of there, are not more offensive, than I have found them in every street in this elegant city, which the French say is the mistress of the world; Madame il n'y a qu'un Paris. As to my own thoughts of this nation, you shall know them, when I am out of it; and then I will write to the dean, and give him some account of his old friend my lord Bolingbroke. When the dean is informed of what that gentleman is doing, I am apt to believe it will be a motive to induce him to hasten the publication of his history. In the mean time, I beg of you to assure him, that nothing shall be wanting on my part to execute his commissions very faithfully. faithfully. I am truly sensible of the great obligations I owe him, and of the honour he hath done me, not in the French sense of that word. I desire my humble service to miss Harrison, and tell Mr. Swift * I shall be glad of any opportunity to do him a real service. At the same time I assure you, with the greatest truth, that I am, madam, your most humble and most obedient servant, W. KING. FROM LORD CASTLEDURROW †. SIR, CASTLEDURROW, DEC. 4, 1736. IT is now a month since you favoured me with your letter; I fear the trouble of another from me may persuade you to excuse my acknowledgments of it; but I am too sensible of the honour you do me, to suffer a correspondence to drop, which I know some of the greatest men in this age have gloried in. How then must my heart be elated! The fly on the chariot wheel is too trite a quotation: I shall rather compare myself to a worm enlivened by the sun, and crawling before it. I imagine there is a tinge of vanity in the meanest insect; and who knows but even this reptile may pride itself in its curls and twists before its benefactor? This is more than the greatest philosopher can determine. Guesses are the Mr. Swift was at this time in Ireland, but returned to Oxford the spring following. + This was William Flower, lord baron of Castledurrow, whose son Henry was created lord viscount Ashbrook in the year 1751. privilege of the ignorant, our undoubted right, and what you can never lay claim to. I am quite angry with your servant, for not acquainting you I was at your door. I greatly commend both your economy and the company you admit at your table. I am told your wine is excellent. The additional groat is, I hope, for suet to your pudding. I fancy I am as old an acquaintance as most you have in this kingdom; though it is not my happiness to be so qualified as to merit that intimacy you profess for a few. It is now to little purpose to repine; though it grieves me to think I was a favourite of dean Aldrich, the greatest man who ever presided in that high post; that over Virgil and Horace, Rag* and Phillips smoked many a pipe, and drank many a quart with me, beside the expense of a bushel of nuts, and that now I am scarce able to relish their beauties. I know it is death to you to see either of them mangled; but a scrap of paper design to enclose, will convince you of the truth. It was in joke to an old woman of seventy, who takes the last line so heinously, that, thanks to my stars, she hates me in earnest. So I devote myself to ladies of fewer years, and more discretion. I This, and such other innocent amusements, I devote myself to in my retirement. Once in two years I appear in the anus of the world, our metropolis. His grace, my old acquaintance, told me, I began to contract strange old fashioned rust, and advised me to burst out of my solitude, and refit myself for the publick; but my own notion of the world, for * Meaning the celebrated Edmund Smith, usually called Rag Smith. |