SIR,

FROM MRS. WHITEWAY.

November 25, 1735.

I HAVE not known for some years the pleasure of a post-day, till within these three weeks. I read your letters twenty times over. I tell you this to induce you to continue me your favour; for I know it is your study to make the wretched happy. The wine is ready for the carman, and all the caution taken that you commanded. If I durst, I would repine that you could think I should require your orders three times repeated to take care of what you told me your health depended on. I rejoice to find your stomach is better, but grieve to hear your leg continues so long bad. I shall despise your surgeon and apothecary, if they do not cure it immediately. Apollo has always waited on you, when it was not half so material. Where the vengeance is he now? After all, he justly quits you, since you have left off invoking him. Idleness is your crime; to punish you he confines you to a chair; and the penance he enjoins, is to employ your pen once more; if not, there are vultures to prey on legs as well as livers : I wish you were safe out of their hands. I was at the deanery on Saturday, though I forgot to mention it in my last letter. My son was there yesterday;

and I would have been there to-day, if a swelled face had not prevented me. I have sent for Mr. Kenrick, or Mr. Laud, to let them know your commands. I must beg the favour of you to deliver the enclosed to Dr. Sheridan, and to pardon my sealing it. You are sensible there are secrets that the nearest friends must not see. As you have nothing to do, be pleased to write to me the heads of the two hundred pages in

I

manuscript, and I will give my opinion about it. Ι must now entreat you to think of coming to town; trust in God your shin will not require it; but consider how it is possible for me to spend the winter evenings, who have been so delightfully entertained all summer at the deanery. I have staid till the last moment before I sealed this, in expectation of seeing somebody from your house, but am disappointed. I promise to take care to see the wine leave this place safe, and to send the paper by the carman. My son and daughter are your most obedient

servants.

I am, Sir, with the highest respect,

Your most obliged and

most humble servant,

MARTHA WHITEWAY.

TO MRS. WHITEWAY.

DEAR MADAM,

Cavan, Nov. 28, 1735.

I TAKE advantage a day before the post to write to you; and this is the first day I have ventured to walk this fortnight past, except yesterday, when I dined with my surgeon at the barrack. This morning I visited four ladies in the town, of which your friend Mrs. Donaldson was one. My whole journey has been disappointed by this accident; for I intended to have been a constant rider, and as much a walker as this dirty town would allow. Here are a thousand domestic conveniences wanting; but one

pair of tongs in the whole house; the turf so wet, that a tolerable fire is a miracle; the kitchen is a cabin a hundred yards off and a half; the house back and fore door always left open, which, in a storm, our constant companion, threatens the fall of the whole edifice: Madam as cross as the devil, and as lazy as any of her sister sows, and as nasty. These are some of our blind sides. But we have a good room to eat in, and the wife and lodgers have another, where the doctor often sits and seems to eat, but comes to my eating-room, (which is his study,) there finishes his meal, and has a share of a pint of wine; the other pint is left till night. Then we have an honest neighbour, Mr. Price, who sits the evening, and wins our money at backgammon, though the doctor sometimes wins by his blundering. As to meat, we are hard put to it. It is true, our beef and mutton are very good; but for the rest, we are forced to take up with hares, partridges, teal, grouse, snipes, woodcocks, plover, silver-eels, and such trash; which, although they be plentiful and excellent in their kinds, you know are unworthy of a refined Dublin dean. I expect before this letter goes that the carrier will be here with the wine, and that I shall have time to chide you for five dozen of bottles broke by the ill packing up. He set out from hence on Tuesday, but I suppose cannot return till next week. I had, several days ago, a letter from Mrs. Sican, and another from her French son,* an excellent good one; when you go that way, tell her of this, with my service, and that I will write to

* The Doctor calls young Dr. Sican her French son, because he was then travelling in France. This young gentleman was at last unfortunately murdered, as he was travelling in Italy, in a post-chaise, by a person who fired his pistol at him from another post-chaise, upon some dispute between the drivers contending for the way.-D. S.

her soon. Your letters have been so friendly, so frequent, and so entertaining, and oblige me so much, that I am afraid in a little time they will make me forget that you are a cousin, and treat you as a friend. If Apollo has entirely neglected my head, can you think he will descend to take care of my shin? Earthly ladies forsake us at forty, and the muses discard us at fifty-five. I have mentioned that rascal Row to Dr. Delany, who defended him as well as he could, but very weakly; if the doctor will not cast him off, he will justly expose himself

to censure.

I wish you would speak to your dearly beloved monster Mr. Lightburne, when he comes to town, about my Laracor agent, to pay me some money, and to reproach Godwin for his infamous neglect of my affairs. He is one of your favourites, and Lightburne another; I hope I am not the third.

I have just spoken about the thread to Mrs. Sheridan, who tells me that what you desire is to be had here every market-day: and that Mrs. Donaldson understands it very well. "To carry on the thread of the discourse, I discovered the little dirty b-h, the fire-maker, to be the opener of the doors, and the leaver of them so; for which the Dean had her lugged this evening by the cookmaid; for which he paid her a threepence,* and gave the little girl a penny for being lugged; and because the cook did not lug her well enough, he gave her a lugging, to shew her the way. These are some of our sublimer amusements. I wish you were here to partake of them. The only thing of importance I can tell you is"-(Ay, what is it? He shall be hanged rather than take up any more of this paper. It is true that

* A little silver piece current in those days; but the species has been long worn out.-D. S.

the legion club is sinking the value of gold and silver to the same with England, and are putting four pounds a hogshead more duty on wine! The cursed vipers use all means to increase the numbers of absentees. Well, I must go to the market about this thread. It is now Nov. 29; I fear the doctor will hedge in a line. I have now got Mr. Morgan's heathenish Christian name,* and will direct my letters to him. I am to finish a letter to Mrs. Sican; I desire you will call on her sometimes. My love to your brats. I have settled with Mrs. Donaldson about the thread; but will order a double quantity, that you may knit stockings for your dear self. Let the doctor conclude. I am ever, &c.-" Madam, I have only room to tell you that I will see you the 12th or 13th of December;) excuse a long parenthesis: your most obedient and"

SIR,

FROM MRS. WHITEWAY.

Dublin, November 29, 1735.

I NEVER was more out of temper in my life than I have been these two days; yesterday that I did not hear from you, and to-day at the rogue that brought your letter to Mr. Kenrick at ten last night, and the disappointment we have met with from him that was to carry the wine to Cavan. The enclosed

* Marcus Anthony Morgan, member for the borough of Athy. He is mentioned in the Dean's satire, entitled the Legion Club. Bless us, Morgan, art thou there, man?

Bless mine eyes, art thou the chairman ?