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# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Anne Acheson - 1

TO LADY ACHESON.
AN APRIL FOOL LETTER.
1732.
A GENTLEMAN called here last night upon some business, who took Mr. ——'s house yesterday at dinner, in his return from Wicklow. He tells me that Mrs. —— was brought to bed yesterday morning at five o'clock of a half child, just as if it were divided in two equal parts. It had one eye, half a nose and mouth, one leg, and so from top to bottom. They could see it was a boy, or rather half a boy: it was dead born, but she is very well. It was thought that this was the cause of all her colicks. Mrs. Brent tells me she has known the like more than once. I am glad the poor woman had her mother and sister with her.
Are you not undone for want of Monky? How are you? Does your milk agree with you? We shall see you no more at church until Monky returns. Adieu, &c.
I mend a little.
SATURDAY MORNING.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Charles FitzRoy - 1

TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.
I RECEIVED lately from the dean of Downe a favourable message from your grace, relating to a ​clergyman, who married my near relation, and whose estate is much encumbered by a long suit at law. I return my most humble acknowledgments for your grace's favourable answer. I can assure your grace, that in those times, when I was thought to have some credit with persons in power, I never used it to my own interest, and very rarely for that of others, unless where it was for the publick advantage; neither shall I ever be a troublesome or common petitioner to your grace. I am sorry the archbishop of Dublin should interpose in petty matters, when he has justly so much weight in things of greater moment. How shall we, the humblest of your addressers, make our way to the smallest mark of your favour? I desired your secretary, Mr. Hopkins, (whom I have long known) to deal plainly with me, as with a man forgotten, and out of the world, and if he thought my request unreasonable, I would drop it. This he failed to do; and therefore I here complain of him to your grace, and will do so to himself, because I have long done with court answers.
I heartily wish your grace full success in all your great and good endeavours for the service of your country, and particularly of this kingdom; and am, with the greatest respect, my lord, your grace's most obedient, and most humble servant,
J. SWIFT.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Esther Johnson - 1

TO [STELLA] MRS. JOHNSON.
JACK GRATTAN said nothing to me of it till last night; it is none of my fault: how did I know but you were to dine abroad? You should have sent your messenger sooner; yes, I think the dinner ​you provided for yourselves may do well enough here, but pray send it soon. I wish you would give a body more early warning; but you must blame yourselves. Delany says he will come in the evening; and for aught I know Sheridan may be here at dinner: which of you was it that undertook this frolick? Your letter hardly explained your meaning, but at last I found it. Pray do not serve me these tricks often. You may be sure, if there be a good bottle you shall have it. I am sure I never refused you, and therefore that reflection might have been spared. Pray be more positive in your answer to this.
Deanery-house, Sunday morning, April 30, 1721.
Margoose, and not Mergoose, it is spelt with an a, simpleton.
No, I am pretty well after my walk. I am glad the archdeacon got home safe, and I hope you took care of him. It was his own fault; how could I know where he was? and he could have easily overtaken me; for I walked softly on purpose, I told Delany I would.
* ↑ Indorsed by Mrs. Johnson; "An answer to no letter."
* ↑ The name of a species of strong wine. A similar word is used in an epilogue, ascribed to the dean, in the Gulliveriana, p. 64. "And with richest margoux to wash down a titbit." Dr. Bramston, in his "Crooked Sixpence," talks of "Chatteau, margout, or the renown'd pontack." And Dr. Dunkin, vol. II, p. 211, after deprecating bumpers, adds, "O raise not the fury of potent margouze!"
* ↑ Archdeacon Walls.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 12/From Jonathan Swift to Bridget Barry - 1

TO LADY SANTRY.
MY reason for waiting on you, some time ago, was grounded on the esteem I always had for you; which ​continued still the same, although I had hardly the least acquaintance with your lord, nor was at all desirous to cultivate it, because I did not at all approve of his conduct. In two or three days after I saw you at sir Compton Domville's house, all my acquaintance told me how full the town was of the visit I had made you; and of the cruel treatment you received from me, with relation to your son. I will not believe your ladyship was so weak as to spread this complaint yourself; but I lay it wholly to those two young women who were then in the same room, I suppose as visitors. But, if you were really discontented, and thought to publish your discontent in aggravating words, I must cut off at least nine tenths of the friendship I had for you, and list you in the herd of Irish ladies, whose titles, or those of their husbands, with me, never have the weight of a feather, or the value of a pebble. I imagined you had so much sense as to understand, that all I said was intended for the service both of you and your son. I have often spoken much more severely to persons of much higher quality than your son, and in a kingdom where to be a lord is of importance; and I have received hearty thanks, as well as found amendment. One thing I shall observe, upon your account, which is. Never to throw away any more advice upon any Irish lord, or his mother; because I thought you would be one of the last to deceive me.
I called four times at the house where you lodge, and you were always denied, by which, I suppose, you would have me think you are angry; whereas I am the person who ought to complain, because all I ​had said to you proceeded from friendship, and a desire of reforming your son. But that desire is now utterly at an end.
* ↑ Lady Santry's brother.
* ↑ Lord Santry.
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/Blooming in the Grave

Blooming in the Grave.
A metallic coffin, containing the body of a young lady who had been buried more than four years, was lately opened in Memphis, Tennessee. The body was in an excellent state of preservation; the hair, particularly, was very life-like, and, what was more astonishing, a full-blown camellia japonica, which some affectionate hand had twined in the tresses of the girl, was remarkably fresh-looking, the leaves retaining their soft greenish hue to perfection.
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/False Shame

False Shame.
Labor is always honorable, and in these days of effeminacy and self-indulgence, those families who dispense with the service of foreign help, are worthy of double honor. But girls are often very foolish, and are ashamed of what they have reason to be proud of. We hope none of our readers would be quite as foolish as the young lady in Oswego:
The Oswego Times tells a good story of a fashionable lady of that village, whose parents are not possessed of wealth in proportion to her pretentions, who excused herself to a visitor for doing house-work, thus:
“Mother and I do our own housework, because it is so exceedingly romantic.”
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/Be Careful to Speak the Truth

Be Careful to Speak the Truth.
People fall into habits of telling falsehoods by simple carelessness, through love of telling a good story, or a tendency to exaggerate, and excite wonder in listeners. Every one should be on his guard:
A lady, piqued by Johnson’s scrupulous advocacy of truth, once asserted that little variations in narrative must happen a thousand times a day, if one is not perpetually watching.
“Well, madam,” said Johnson, “and you ought to be perpetually watching. It is more from carelessness about truth, than from intentional lying, that there is so much falsehood in the world.”
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/Heaven

Heaven.
[The following beautiful lines, by the author of that exquisite poem “Over the River,” (Miss N. A. W. Priest), first appeared in the Springfield Republican:]
Beyond these chilling winds and gloomy skies, Beyond death’s cloudy portal There is a land where beauty never dies And love becomes immortal:
A land whose light is never dimmed by shade, Whose fields are ever vernal: Where nothing beautiful can ever fade, But blooms for aye, eternal.
We may not know how sweet its balmy air, How bright and fair its flowers; We may not hear the songs that echo there, Through those enchanted bowers.
The city’s shining towers we may not see, With our dim earthly vision: For Death, the silent warden, keeps the key, That opes those gates elysian.
But sometimes, when adown the Western sty The fiery sunset lingers, Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, Unlocked by unseen fingers.
And while they stand a moment half ajar, Gleams from the inner glory Stream brightly through the azure vault afar, And half reveal the story.
O, land unknown! O land of love divine! Father, all wise eternal, Guide, guide these wondering way-worn feet of mine, Into the pastures vernal.
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/Burden of Riches

Burden of Riches.
It is very natural to think rich people must be happy. Others envy them, and think how grand it must be to have money enough to gratify every want. But these rich people are often very miserable. Stephen Girard, one of the wealthiest men that ever lived in Philadelphia, wrote to a friend:
“As to myself, I live like a galley-slave—constantly occupied, and often passing the night without sleeping. I am wrapped up in a labyrinth of affairs, and worn out with cares. I do not value fortune. The love of labor is my highest emotion. When I rise in the morning, my only effort is to labor so hard during the day, that when night comes, I may be enabled to sleep soundly.”
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/Gifts Returned to the Giver

Gifts Returned to the Giver.
Gifts are often valued, not according to their real worth, or the intention of the giver, but according to the scarcity of the article. A queer story is told of a present once made to an Emperor of Germany:
The Emperor Charles V., returning from his expedition against Tunis, traveled by land from Calabria to Naples. As he was to pass through La Cava, the town council met to decide upon a gift for his majesty. Some proposed pine apples, but the majority were in favor of a certain kind of fig, which, having been covered with mats through the winter, were then (March) delicious eating. The Emperor, who was a terrific gormandiser, was much gratified with the present, and inquired with a great deal of interest, if it were difficult to preserve the figs thus, and if they were abundant.
“Oh!” said the sapient mayor, “we have such a quantity that we give them to our hogs.”
“To your hogs!” repeated the Emperor, “then take your figs back again.”
With the word he threw a ripe one in the face of the councilman, and the courtiers, following his example, pelted the deputies until they were soiled and bruised with the fruit. One of them, however, supposed that this singular proceeding was a part of the ordinary ceremonial at receptions, and observed on his way home:
“How lucky it was that we carried our point in favor of figs, for had we offered pine apples, we should, doubtless, have had our brains knocked out!”
# The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/God's Messengers

God’s Messengers.
Little Eva’s sweet face wore a very thoughtful look, one bright morning, as she stood with her dimpled chin resting on the window-sill. Her eyes were out among the flowers; but her thoughts were not there. They were far away, among flowers that never fade, that eyes like hers, bright as they were, have never seen.
“Mamma,” she said at last, “what do angels do? It cannot take them all day and every day to take care of God’s flowers.”
“No, darling, the angels are God’s messengers.”
“What is a messenger, mamma?”
“You are my little messenger sometimes. When you carried those oranges to aunt Nina, for mamma, you were her messenger. And when you ran to papa’s store to tell him grandmother had come, you were her messenger again.”
“Are messengers always angels or little girls, mamma?”
“No, dear, the mail-bags are our messengers.”
“But, mamma, papa says that once they didn’t have any mail-bags. What did they do then?”
“There was no way then, but for men to be the messengers.”
“Do the angels carry God’s letters, mamma?”
“Yes, darling. But God doesn’t write his letters. He only tells them to the angels, and they always remember.”
“Where does he send them, mamma?”
“To you, and me, and everybody.”
“Why, mamma!” and Eva’s blue eyes were wide open, now, “I never saw them.”
“No, dear, you cannot see them, any more than you can see the wind that comes in at the window and blows on your face.”
“I never heard them tell their letters, mamma,” said Eva, doubtfully.
“Did my little Eva never hear something speak to her when she was alone, and was tempted to be naughty, and disobey mamma, that she must ‘obey her parents,’ or God would he displeased, and mamma sorry?”
“Yes, mamma.”
“Those are God’s letters, love, and the angels, his messengers, told them to you.”
“Oh, I am so glad!” and her eyes sparkled with delight. “I shall take good care of God’s letters. But is carrying letters all that angels do?”
“No dear; but I must tell you the rest some other time. Go now, and tell Mary to bring baby to mamma.”
“I’ll be your little good messenger now, mamma, and then perhaps I’ll be God’s messenger some day.” And away she skipped, leaving tears in mamma’s eyes.—Reaper.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From William King (St Mary Hall) to Jonathan Swift - 1

FROM DR. KING.
I ARRIVED here yesterday, and I am now ready to obey your commands. I hope you are come to a positive resolution concerning the history. You need not hesitate about the dates, or the references which are to be made to any publick papers; for I can supply them without the least trouble. As well as I remember, there is but one of those publick pieces, which you determined should be inserted at length; I mean sir Thomas Hanmer's representation; this I have now by me. If you incline to publish the two tracts as an appendix to the history, you will be pleased to see if the character given of the earl of Oxford in the pamphlet of 1715 agrees with the ​character given of the same person in the history. Perhaps on a review, you may think proper to leave one of them quite out. You have (I think) barely mentioned the attempt of Guiscard, and the quarrel between Rechteren and Mesnager. But as these are facts which are probably now forgot or unknown, it would not be amiss if they were related at large in the notes; which may be done from the gazettes, or any other newspapers of those times. This is all I have to offer to your consideration; and you see here are no objections which ought to retard the publication of this valuable work one moment. I will only now add, that if you intend this history should be published from the original manuscript, it must be done while you are living: and if you continue in the same mind to intrust me with the execution of your orders, I will perform them faithfully. This I would do, although I did not owe you a thousand obligations, which I shall ever acknowledge. I am, with the greatest truth, sir, your most humble and most obedient servant,
W. KING.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From William King (St Mary Hall) to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM DR. KING.
ST. MARY HALL, OXFORD,
I DO not know for what reason the worthy gentlemen of the postoffice intercepted a letter, which I ​did myself the honour to write to you about two months ago. I cannot remember I said any thing that could give them the least offence. I did not mention the new halfpence; I did not praise the royal family; I did not blame the prime minister; I only returned you my thanks for a very kind letter I had just then received from you. It is true I enclosed in that letter a printed paper called Common Sense, in which the author proposes a new scheme of government for the people of Corsica, advising to make their king of the same stuff of which the Indians make their gods. I thought to afford you some diversion: but perhaps it was this made the whole packet criminal.
I have this day received, a letter from Mrs. Whiteway, in which she tells me that I am to expect the manuscript by lord Orrery. I will have the pleasure to wait on him as soon as I can do it without crossing the Irish channel: and as soon as I receive the papers, you shall hear from me again. I shall have an opportunity of writing fully to you by Mr. Deane Swift, who proposes to set out for Ireland the next vacation. In making mention of this gentleman, I cannot help recommending him to your favour. I have very narrowly observed his conduct ever since I have been here; and I can, with great truth, give him the character of a modest, sober, ingenious young man. He is a hard student, and will do an honour to the society of which he is now a member.
Mrs. Whiteway says, that notwithstanding all your complaints, you are in good health and good ​spirits. What think you of making a trip to England this fine season, and visiting our Alma Mater? I can offer you an airy cool room during the summer, and a warm bedchamber in the winter; and I will take care that your mutton commons shall be kept long enough to be tender. If you will accept of this invitation, I promise to meet you at Chester, and to conduct you to king Edward's lodgings: and then St. Mary Hall may boast of a triumvirate, that is not to be matched in any part of the learned world, sir Thomas More, Erasmus, and the Drapier. Believe me to be with the greatest esteem, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant,
WILLIAM KING.
* ↑ Dr. King was a considerable writer in "Common Sense;" and lord Chesterfield still more so; but the ostensible author was Mr. Charles Molloy. Dr. King had large offers made him, to write in favour of sir Robert Walpole, which he declined. He died, at a very advanced age, July 16, 1767.
* ↑ This paper of Common Sense was written by Dr. King himself.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From William Dunkin to Martha Whiteway - 1

DR. DUNKIN TO MRS. WHITEWAY.
AS it was through your countenance I had the honour of being first introduced to the most worthy dean of St. Patrick, I must have thought myself under the highest obligation to you; but the continuance of your friendship, through so many repeated acts of generosity, and the course of his gracious endeavours to raise my reputation and fortune, are such things as I must ever remember and express with a very deep sense of gratitude.
The fatigue of writing so many letters lately in my favour, was indeed what I could not in reason expect even from his humanity, were I worthy of them; and I can only say, the dean of St. Patrick is unwearied in doing good, and that he who could rise to preserve a nation, will descend to relieve an individual.
The sense of my own demerit, and the just awe in which I stand before so great and good a man, will not allow me either that freedom of speech or writing, which is requisite to let him understand with what love, veneration, and respect of his person, I reflect upon the many instances of his tender concern and uncommon zeal for my welfare. This is a duty I most earnestly wish, but am ​altogether unable to perform, and such as I entreat you, dear madam, to undertake for me; your compliance in which will be yet another, among the many and weighty obligations laid upon your most dutiful, obedient, devoted servant,
WILLIAM DUNKIN.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From William Fownes to Jonathan Swift - 2

FROM SIR WILLIAM FOWNES.
FROM MY OBSERVATORY IN THE
THERE are a sort of gentlemen, who, after great labour and cost, have at last found out, that two dishes of meat will not cost half so much as five or six, and yet answer the end of filling the bellies of as many as usually fed upon the five or six.
I have considered that a like sort of reduction in other articles, may have the like proportion of good effect: as for instance, when any one bespeaks a pair of shoes, a pair of stockings, or a pair of gloves, they should bespeak a pair and a half of each, and make use of these turn about: I am very confident they will answer the end of two pair; by which good management a quarter part of the expense in those articles may be saved. Perhaps it may be objected, that this is a spoiling of trade: to which I answer, that when the makers of those sorts of ware shall reduce their rates a quarter part (instead of enhancing them, as has been done in some late years unreasonably) and now ought to be reduced according to the rates of wool and leather;
Then it may be reasonable to bespeak two pair instead of a pair and a half.
Another objection may be started as to gloves, with a query, Which of the hands shall be obliged with two gloves? To this I answer, That generally ​the left hand is used but seldom, and not exposed as the other to many offices; one of which in particular is the handing of ladies. For these reasons, two gloves ought to be granted to the right hand.
There are many other frugal improvements, which, as soon as I have discoursed Thomas Turner the quaker, who is now upon finding out the longitude, and farther improving the latitude, I shall be able to demonstrate what sort of meat, and the joints, will best answer this frugal scheme, as likewise in clothing, and other parts of good economy; and they shall be communicated to you by, sir, your most humble servant,
PHILO MÆ.
# The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 13/From William King (St Mary Hall) to Deane Swift - 1

FROM DR. KING TO DEANE SWIFT, ESQ.
ST. MARY HALL, OXON,
I DID not receive your letter of the 4th till yesterday. It was sent after me to London, and from thence returned to Oxford.
I am much concerned that I cannot see you before you go to Ireland, because I intended to have sent by you a packet for the dean. It has been no fault of mine that he has not heard from me. I have written two letters for him (both enclosed to Mrs. Whiteway) since I received the manuscript from lord Orrery. I wrote again to Mrs. Whiteway, when I was last week in London, to acquaint her, that I would write to the dean by a friend of mine, who is going for Ireland in a few days. I do not wonder my letters by the post have been intercepted, since they wholly related to the publication of ——, which, I am assured, is a matter by no means agreeable to some of our great men, nor indeed to some of the dean's particular friends in London. In short, I have been obliged to defer this publication till I can have the dean's answer to satisfy the objections which have been made by some of his friends. I had likewise a particular reason of my own for deferring this work a few months, which I have acquainted the dean with.
​I must beg the favour of you to leave behind you the copy of The Toast, at least to show it to nobody in Ireland: for as I am upon the point of accommodating my suit, the publication of the book would greatly prejudice my affairs at this juncture. But this is a caution I believe I needed not have given you.
Your friends in the Hall are all well. We are now very full.
Believe me to be, sir, your most affectionate and most humble servant,
WILLIAM KING.
* ↑ Then at Monmouth.
* ↑ Dr. Swift's History of the Four Last Years of Q. Anne.