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TO THE ARCHBISHOP OF CASHELL *.

MY LORD,

DUBLIN, AUG. 14, 1735.

THE bearer, Mr. Faulkner, our famous printer, goes in an hour to see Kilkenny and Cashell, to gather up his country debts. Ten to one your grace may owe him a dozen shillings, and your town coffee-house (if you have one) a dozen more. But his pretences to me for writing, are the honour of being admitted to your grace by a line in my hand. I am not in fear of his shaming me as others have done; however, I would not have you leave your manuscripts scattered about your room, for he would be terribly tempted to beg them, and return them back next winter in four volumes, as he served me; although I never let him touch or see one. He has the name of an honest man, and has good sense and behaviour. I have ordered him to mark narrowly whatever you are doing, as a prelate, an architect, a country gentleman, a politician, and an improver; and to bring me a faithful account when he returns; but chiefly about your health, and what exercise you make use of to increase or preserve it. But he is in haste to be gone, and I am forced to conclude.

I am, with the greatest respect,

My lord, your grace's

Most obedient humble servant,

!

JON. SWIFT.

* Dr. Theophilus Bolton. N

TO LORD HOWTH *.

MY LORD,

DUBLIN, AUG. 14, 1735.

TH HE bearer, Mr. Faulkner, came to me just an
hour before he was taking a journey to Kilkenny
and Cashell, and desired I would write by him to
your lordship and the archbishop, only to let your
lordship know, that he is an honest man, and the
chief printer; and that I know him, and treat
him with indulgence, because I cannot help it. For,
although he printed what I never would have done,
yet he got the consent of my friends, and so I shall
get nothing by being angry with him. He hopes,
as a citizen, to be admitted to your lords and ladies
in the country, and I am contented you shall make
him welcome; but take care you put no manuscripts
in his hands; otherwise, perhaps, there will be the
works of the right hon. &c., and of my lady and the
giant, neatly bound next winter. My lady Ache-
son has not been well since she left the town; but
her mother is almost perfectly cured, except the loss
of her eye.
I owe my lady Howth a letter, I
believe. I desire my most humble service to her
and the giant. I have time to say no more, but
that I am,

Your lordship's most obedient servant,
JON. SWIFT.

* William St. Lawrence, baron of Howth, died April 4, 1748, aged 60. His son Thomas was created earl of Howth and viscount St. Lawrence, Aug. 15, 1767. N.

† A very tall young lady, nearly related to lord Howth. D. S.

Lucy, youngest daughter of lieutenant general Richard Gorges, was married to lord Howth, Aug. 2, 1728: and after that nobleman's death became the lady of Nicholas Weldon of Gravelment, esq、 D. S.

SIR,

TO MR. ALDERMAN BARBER.

SEPTEMBER 3, 1735.

THE bearer, Mr. Faulkner, tells me, he has the honour to be known to you, and that I have credit enough to prevail on you to do him all the good offices that lie in your way. I presume he goes about some affairs that relate to his own calling, which would be of little value to him here, if he were not the printer most in vogue, and a great undertaker, perhaps too great a one: wherein you are able to be the best adviser, provided he be not too sanguine, by representing things better than he probably may find them in this wretched, beggarly, enslaved country. To my great grief, my disorder is of such a nature, and so constantly threatening, that I dare not ride so far as to be a night from ---- : and yet when the weather is fair, I seldom fail to ride ten or a dozen miles. Mr. Faulkner will be able to give you a true journal of my life; that I generally pine at home, and alone, and have not two houses in this great kingdom, where I can get a bit of meat twice a year. That I very seldom go to church for fear of being seized with a fit of giddiness in the midst of the service. I hear you have likewise some ailments to struggle with, yet I am a great deal leaner than you: but I have one advantage, that wine is good for me, and I drink a bottle to my own share every day, to bring some heat into my stomach. Dear Mr. alderman, what a number of dear and great friends have we buried, or seen driven to exile since we came acquainted? I did not know,

till

་་

till six months after, that my best friend, my lady Masham, was gone. I would be glad to know whether

her son be good for any thing, doubted when I saw him last. make constant use of exercise?

because I much

Tell me, do you

It is all I have to

trust to, though not in regard to life but to health': I know nothing wherein years make so great a change as in the difference of matter in conversation and writing. My thoughts are wholly taken up in considering the best manner I ought to die, and how to dispose of my poor fortune for the best publick charity. But in conversation I trifle more and more every day, and I would not give three pence for all I read, or write, or think, in the compass of a year.

Well, God bless you, and preserve your life as long as you can reasonably desire. I take my age with less mortification, because, if I were younger, I should probably outlive the liberty of England, which, without some unexpected assistance from Heaven, many thousands now alive will see governed by an absolute monarch.

Farewell, dear sir; and believe me to be, with true esteem,

Your most obedient humble servant,

JON. SWIFT.

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TO MR. POPE.

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 Curll.
I heartily wish you were what they call disaffected,
as I am. I may say as David did, I have sinned
greatly, but what have these sheep done? You
have given no offence to the ministry, nor to the
lords, nor commons, nor queen, nor the next in
power. For you are a man of virtue, and there-
fore must abhor vice and all corruption, although
your discretion holds the reins.
"You need not

me."

fear any consequence in the commerce that has so long passed between us; although I never destroyed one of your letters. But my executors are men of honour and virtue, who have strict orders in my will to burn every letter left behind Neither did our letters contain any turns of wit, or fancy, or politicks, or satire, but mere innocent friendship; yet I am loth that any letters, from you and a very few other friends, should die before me; I believe we neither of us ever leaned our head upon our left hand to study what we should write next; yet we have held a constant Intercourse from your youth and my middle age, and from your middle age it must be continued till my death, which my bad state of health makes me expect every month. I have the ambition, and it is very earnest as well as in haste, to have one epistle inscribed