EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE

CONTINUED.

TO THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY*.

GENTLEMEN,

MOOR PARK, FEBRUARY 14, 1691-2,

SINCE every body pretends to trouble you with their follies, I thought I might claim the privilege of an Englishman, and put in my share among the rest. Being last year in Ireland (from whence I returned about half a year ago), I heard only a

loose

*This letter is printed in the fourth volume of the Athenian Oracle, ed. 3, p. 111. The ode, which accompanied it, is printed in vol. VII, p. 10. in which the ingenious author refers to a former ode written by him, and addressed to king William when in Ireland. Mr. Deane Swift, in his Essay on the Life of his Kinsman, informs us that this latter piece was also printed in the same publication. It however is not to be found in the last, nor in several other editions of that work; but will be given in the poetical part of this volume, p. 405.

By this expression, and some particulars which follow, it appears that Dr. Swift, on his return from Ireland, did not immediately go back to Moor Park; as, in a letter to Mr. Kendal, VOL. XVIII,

R

dated

loose talk of your society; and believed the design to be only some new folly just suitable to the age, which God knows I little expected ever to produce any thing extraordinary. Since my being in England, having still continued in the country, and much out of company, I had but little advantage of knowing any more, till about two months ago, passing through Oxford, a very learned gentleman first showed me two or three of your volumes, and gave me his account and opinion of you. A while after I came to this place, upon a visit to *****†, where I have been ever since, and have seen all the four volumes with their supplements; which answering my expectation, the perusal has produced what you find enclosed.

As I have been somewhat inclined to this folly, so I have seldom wanted somebody to flatter me in it. And for the ode enclosed, I have sent it to a person of very great learning and honour, and since to some others, the best of my acquaintance (which I thought very proper, to ensure it for a greater light); and they have all been pleased to tell me, that they are sure it will not be unwelcome, and that I should beg the honour of you to let it be printed before your next volume (which I think is soon to be published); it being so usual before most books of any great value among poets: and before its seeing

dated only three days before this to the Athenian Society, we find he had been but seven weeks with sir William. The intermediate time, from the subject of the letter to Mr. Kendal, appears to have been principally passed with his mother at Leicester, from which place he made Oxford in his way to Moor Park.

+ His great patron sir William Temple.

the

the world, I submit it wholly to the correction of your pens.

I entreat therefore one of you would descend so far, as to write two or three lines to me of your pleasure upon it which as I cannot but expect it from gentlemen who have so well shown, upon so many occasions, that greatest character of scholars in being favourable to the ignorant; so, I am sure, nothing at present can more highly oblige me, or make me happier. I am, gentlemen, your ever most humble, and most admiring servant,

MADAM,

TO VARINA*.

JON. SWIFT.

APRIL 29, 1696.

IMPATIENCE is the most inseparable quality of a lover, and indeed of every person who is in pursuit of a design whereon he conceives his greatest happiness or misery to depend. It is the same thing in war, in courts, and in common business. Every one who hunts after pleasure, or fame, or fortune,

* Sister to Mr. Waryng, Swift's chamber-fellow at college. See Sheridan's Life of Swift, vol. I, p. 283.-This letter was first printed in Mr. George Monck Berkeley's Literary Relicks, 1789.-A second letter to Miss Waryng, May 4, 1700, has already appeared in vol. I, p. 278. Three other letters, directed to her at Belfast, are existing; though we are unable to give more than their dates; December 20, 1695, from Dublin; June 29, 1696, and August 28, 1697, from Moor Park.

is still restless and uneasy till he has hunted down his game and all this is not only very natural, but some-thing reasonable too; for a violent desire is little better than a distemper, and therefore men are not to blame in looking after a cure. I find myself hugely infected with this malady, and am easily vain enough to believe it has some very good reasons to excuse it. For indeed, in my case, there are some circumstances which will admit pardon for more than ordinary disquiets. That dearest object upon which all my prospect of happiness entirely depends, is in perpetual danger to be removed for ever from my sight. Varina's life is daily wasting; and though one just and honourable action could furnish health to her, and unspeakable happiness to us both, yet some power that repines at human felicity has that influence to hold her continually doating upon her cruelty, and me upon the cause of it. This fully convinces me of what we are told, that the miseries of man's life are all beaten out on his own anvil. Why was I so foolish to put my hopes and fears into the power or management of another? Liberty is doubtless the most valuable blessing of life; yet we are fond to fling it away on those who have been these 5000 years using us ill. Philosophy advises to keep our desires and prospects of happiness as much as we can in our own breasts, and independent of any thing without. He that sends them abroad is likely to have as little quiet as a merchant whose stock depends upon winds, and waves, and pirates, or upon the words and faith of creditors, every whit as dangerous and inconstant as the other.

I am a villain if I have not been poring this half hour over the paper merely for want of something.

to

to say to you :-or is it rather that I have so much to say to you, that I know not where to begin, though at last its all very likely to be arrant repetition ?

Two strangers, a poet and a beggar, went to cuffs yesterday in this town, which minded me heartily to curse both employments. However, I am glad to see those two trades fall out, because I always heard they had been constant cronies: but what was best of all, the poet got the better, and kicked the gentleman beggar out of doors. This was of great comfort to me, till I heard the victor himself was a most abominable bad rhymer, and as mere a vagabond beggar as the other, which is a very great offence to me; for starving is much too honourable for a blockhead. I read some of his verses printed in praise of my lady Donegall, by which he has plainly proved that Fortune has injured him, and that he is dunce enough to be worth five thousand pounds a year. It is a pity he has not also the qualifications to recommend himself to your sex. I dare engage no ladies would hold him long in suspense with their unkindness: one settlement of separate maintenance, well engrossed, would have more charms than all the wit or passion of a thousand letters. And I will maintain it, any man had better have a poor angel to his rival than the devil himself if he was rich.

You now have had time enough to consider my last letter, and to form your own resolutions upon it. I wait your answer with a world of impatience; and you think fit I should attend you before my journey, I am ready to do it. My lady Donegall tells me that it is feared my lord deputy will not live

if