10. To Jonathan Swift. Sir, May 19, 1713. Mr. Addison shewed me your letter, wherein you mention me. They laugh at you, if they make you believe your interposition has kept me thus long in my 5 office. If you have spoken in my behalf at any time, I am glad I have always treated you with respect: though I believe you an accomplice of the Examiner. In the letter you are angry at, you see I have no reason for being so merciful to him, but out of regard to the imputa10 tion you lie under. You do not in direct terms say you are not concerned with him; but make it an argument of your innocence, that the Examiner has declared you have nothing to do with him. I believe I could prevail upon the Guardian to say there was a mistake in putting my 15 name in his paper; but the English would laugh at us, should we argue in so Irish a manner. 20 I am heartily glad of your being made Dean of St. Patrick's. It was with the utmost consternation that I this day heard Your Grace had received a dismission from all 25 your employments. And lest you should, out of the softness which is inseparable from natures truly heroic, believe this a diminution of your glory, I take the liberty to express to you, as well as I can, the sense which mankind has of your merit. That great genius with which God has endowed you was raised by him to give the first notion that the enemy was to be conquered. Till you were placed at the head of armies the confederates seemed contented to show France that she could not overcome Europe, but it 5 entered not into the heart of man that the rest of Europe could conquer France. When I have said this, my Lord, there arise in my soul so many instances of your having been the ministring angel in the cause of LIBERTY that my heart flags, as if it expected the lash of slavery, when 10 the sword is taken out of his hand who defended me and all men from it. Believe me, immortal Sir, you have a slighter loss in this change of your condition than any other man in England. Your actions have exalted you to be the chief of your species, and a continued chain of 15 successes, resulting from wise counsels, have denominated you the first of mankind in the age which was blessed with your birth. Enjoy what it is not in the power of fate to take from you, the memory of your past actions. Past actions make up present glory. It is in the power 20 of mortals to be thankless to you for doing them; but it is not in their power to take from you that you have done them. It is in the power of man to make your services ineffectual in consequences to your country, but it is not in their power to make them inglorious to yourself. Be 25 not, therefore, you concerned; but let us lament, who may suffer by your removal. Your glory is augmented by comparison of your merit to the reward it meets with. But the honour of your country XIII. [The Prologue to Ambrose Philips's The Distressed Mother, March, 1712.] Since fancy of itself is loose and vain, The wise by rules that airy power restrain; They think those writers mad, who at their ease Convey this house and audience where they please ; 5 Who Nature's stated distances confound, And make this spot all soils the sun goes round; 'Tis nothing, when a fancied scene's in view, To skip from Covent Garden to Peru. But Shakespeare's self transgressed; and shall each elf, 10 Each pigmy genius, quote great Shakespeare's self! What critic dares prescribe what's just and fit, Or mark out limits for such boundless wit! Shakespeare could travel through earth, sea, and air, Our Author does his feeble force confess, XIV. [From A Letter to Sir Miles Wharton, concerning Occasional Peers. March 5, 1713.] As to the house of peers, it is visible to anything above a natural fool that the power of each lord is so much less considerable as it is repeated in other persons; but the great hardship to that great and awful body, whose privileges have so often been a safety and protec tion to the rights of us below them, I say, the great hardship to these noble patriots is that, when they are prepared with the most strict honour and integrity to do their duty in relation to their prince and country, all their 5 determinations may be avoided by a set of people brought in the moment before they come to a question. This has been done once, as I am credibly informed, in so frank a way that there have been above six at a time brought into that place without any further preamble than: "This 10 gentleman's name is So; do not call him Mr. from this time forward but My Lord, for he is now one of you. Sit close there; let the gentleman sit down. I beg pardon; make way for his Lordship." It is a most vexatious thing to an old man, who endeavours to square his notions by reason, and to talk from reflection and experience, to fall in with a circle of young ladies at their afternoon tea-table. This happened 20 very lately to be my fate. The conversation, for the first half-hour, was so very rambling, that it is hard to say what was talked of, or who spoke least to the purpose. The various motions of the fan, the tossings of the head, intermixed with all the pretty kinds of laughter, made up 25 the greatest part of the discourse. At last, this modish way of shining and being witty settled into something like conversation, and the talk ran upon fine gentlemen. From the several characters that were given, and the exceptions that were made, as this or that gentleman happened to be named, I found that a lady is not difficult to be pleased, and that the town swarms with fine gentlemen. A nimble pair of heels, a smooth complexion, a 5 full-bottom wig, a laced shirt, an embroidered suit, a pair of fringed gloves, a hat and feather; any one or more of these and the like accomplishments ennobles a man, and raises him above the vulgar, in a female imagination. On the contrary, a modest, serious behaviour, a plain 10 dress, a thick pair of shoes, a leathern belt, a waistcoat not lined with silk, and such like imperfections, degrade a man, and are so many blots in his escutcheon. I could not forbear smiling at one of the prettiest and liveliest of this gay assembly, who excepted to the gentility of Sir 15 William Hearty because he wore a frieze coat, and breakfasted upon toast and ale. I pretended to admire the fineness of her taste, and to strike in with her in ridiculing those awkward healthy gentlemen, that seem to make nourishment the chief end of eating. I gave her an 20 account of an honest Yorkshire gentleman, who (when I was a traveller) used to invite his acquaintance at Paris to break their fast with him upon cold roast beef and mum. There was, I remember, a little French marquis, who was often pleased to rally him unmercifully upon 25 beef and pudding, of which our countryman would despatch a pound or two with great alacrity, while this antagonist was piddling at a mushroom or the haunch of a frog. I could perceive the lady was pleased with what I said, and we parted very good friends, by virtue of a 30 maxim I always observe, Never to contradict or reason with a sprightly female. I went home, however, full of a great many serious reflections upon what had passed, and though, in complaisance, I disguised my sentiments, to keep up the good humour of my fair companions, and to |