of my acquaintance know, that you, the sole daugh-
ter and child of his grace of Dublin, are so mean
as to descend to understand housewifery; which
every girl of this town, who can afford sixpence
a month for a chair, would scorn to be thought
to have the least knowledge in; and this will give
you as ill a reputation, as if you had been caught
in the fact of reading a history, or handling a
needle, or working in a field at Tallagh. My other
revenge shall be this; when my lord's gentleman
delivered his message, after I put him some ques-
tions, he drew out a paper containing your direc-
tions, and in your hand: I said it properly belonged
to me; and, when I had read it, I put it in my pocket,
and am ready to swear, when lawfully called, that
it is written in a fair hand, rightly spelt, and good
You now may see I have you at
plain sense.
mercy; for, upon the least offence given, I will
show the paper to every female scrawler I meet,
who will soon spread about the town, that your
writing and spelling are ungenteel and unfashion-
able, more like a parson than a lady.

I suppose, by this time, you are willing to submit: and therefore, I desire you may stint me to two china bowls of butter a week; for my breakfast is that of a sickly man, rice gruel; and I am wholly a stranger to tea and coffee, the companions of bread and butter. I received my third bowl last night, and I think my second is almost entire. I hope and believe my lord archbishop will teach his neighbouring tenants and farmers a little English country management: and I lay it upon you, madam, to bring housewifery in fashion among our ladies; that, by your example, they

may

may no longer pride themselves on their natural or affected ignorance. I am, with the truest respect and esteem,

Madam,

Your most obedient and obliged, &c.

JON. SWIFT.

I desire to present my most, &c. to his grace and the ladies.

FROM THE BISHOP OF CLOGHER *.

MR. DEAN,

CLOGHER, JUNE 25, 1734.

I HAVE a letter of yours of a very long date, and should, it may be, out of good manners have answered it long since: but I thought it would be better to delay the answer I was then able to make, to our first private meeting, which I thought might be soon; and for the same reason that delayed me then, I shall put off my defence till I have the pleasure of half an hour's private conversation with you, when I think I shall be able to clear myself from the heavy charges you bring against me: and therefore, not to take any farther notice of that letter, I shall, in answer to your last, which I received by last post, return you my thanks for your having taken the same care about the sixty pounds, which at your request I lent Joe Beaumont, whose circumstances at that time I was pretty much a stranger to, as you have taken about the money you lent him on the same occa

* Dr. Sterne. N.

sion,

1

sion, and as this shall serve for a full discharge of
all demands I have on Joe's execution *, so I shall
take it as a favour, if you will take on you the
trouble of disposing of that sum of fifty pounds,
as an augmentation to your own charitable fund,
or to any other charitable use you shall judge pro-
per, and that I desire may be without
of my name.

any mention If you desire an acquittance in any other form, be pleased to draw one, and I will sign it. I shall be proud of a visit in this mountainous country, being, notwithstanding any coolness or misunderstanding that has happened between us, as much

as ever

Your affectionate friend and servant,

JOHN CLOGHER.

FROM LORD BOLINGBROKE.

FROM MY FARM, JUNE 27, 1734.

I THANK you, Mr. Dean; or, to use a name to me more sacred, I thank you, my Friend, for your letter of the 23d of May, which came to me by post. I answer it by the same conveyance; and provided the diligent inspection of private men's correspondence do not stop our letters, they have my leave to do, what they will do without it, to open and read them. If they expect to find any

* This execution was against the heirs or representatives of Mr. Beaumont, who had died several years before the date of this letter. D. S.

† A few lines before it is sixty pounds. N.

thing

thing which may do us hurt, or them good; their disappointment will give me pleasure, and in the proportion, I shall imagine it gives them pain. I should have another pleasure, of higher relish, if our epistles were to be perused by persons of higher rank. And who knows, considering the mighty importance we are of, whether that may not happen? How would these persons stare, to see such a thing as sincere cordial friendship subsist inviolate, and grow and strengthen from year to year, in spite of distance, absence, and mutual inutility!

But enough on this. Let us turn to other subjects. I have read, in the golden verses of Pythagoras, or in some other collection of wise apophthegms of the antients, that a man of business may talk of philosophy, a man who has none may practise it. What do you think of this maxim? Is it exact? I have a strange distrust of maxims. We make as many observations as our time, our knowledge, and the other means we have, give us the opportunity of making on a physical matter. We find that they all correspond, and that one general proposition may be affirmed as the result of them. This we affirm, and in consequence this becomes a maxim among our followers, if we have any. Thus the king of Siam affirmed, that water was always in a fluid state; and I doubt not but the talapoins (do they not call them so?) held this maxim. Neither he or they, had ever climbed the neighbouring mountains of Ava: their observations were confined to the burning climate they inhabited. It is much the same in moral maxims, founded on observations of the conduct of men; for there are other moral maxims of universal truth, as there are moral

VOL. XIII.

H

moral duties of eternal obligation. We see what. the conduct is, and we guess what the motives are, of great numbers of men; but then we see often at too great a distance, or through a faulty medium; we guess with much uncertainty from a thousand reasons concerning a thing as various, as changing, as inconsistent as the heart of man. And even when we see right, and guess right, we build our maxims on a small number of observations (for such they are comparatively, how numerous soever they may be, taken by themselves) which our own age and our own country chiefly have presented to us.

You and I have known one man in particular, who affected business he often hindered, and never did; who had the honour among some, and the blame among others, of bringing about great re volutions in his own country, and in the general affairs of Europe; and who was, at the same time, the idlest creature living; who was never more copious than in expressing, when that was the theme of the day, his indifference to power, and his contempt of what we call honours, such as titles, ribands, &c, who should, to have been consistent, have had this indifference, and have felt this contempt, since he knew neither how to use power, nor how to wear honours, and yet who was jealous of one, and fond of the other, even to ridicule. This character seems singular enough, and yet I have known some resembling it very much in general, and many exactly like it in the strongest marks it bore.

Now let us suppose, that some Rochefoucault or other, some anthroponomical sage, should discover a multitude of similar instances, and not

stumble