I tell you I'd not give a fig for your wine;
So I'll leave him behind, for I certainly know it,
What he ripens above ground, he sours below it.
But why should we fight thus, my partner so dear,
With three hundred and sixty-five poems a-year?
Let's quarrel no longer, since Dan and George
Rochfort
[watch for't.

Will laugh in their sleeves: I can tell you they
Then George will rejoice, and Dan will sing highday:
Hoc Ithacus velit, et magni mercentur Atridæ.

Written, signed, and sealed, five minutes and eleven seconds after the receipt of yours, allowing seven seconds for sealing and superscribing, from my bed-side, just eleven minutes after eleven, Sept. 15, 1718.

JON. SWIFT..

Erratum in your last, 1. antepenult, pro "fear a Dun," lege "fear a Dan :" ita omnes MSS. quos ego legi, et ita magis congruum tam sensui quam veritati.

SIR,

TO DR. SHERIDAN,1

Dec. 14, 1719, Nine at night.

It is impossible to know by your letter whether
the wine is to be bottled to-morrow, or no.
If it be, or be not, why did not you in plain
English tell us so?

In this letter, though written in prose, the reader, upon examining, will find each second sentence rhymes to the former.---H.

For my part, it was by mere chance I came to sit with the ladies1 this night.

And if they had not told me there was a letter from you; and your man Alexander had not gone, and come back from the deanery; and the boy here had not been sent, to let Alexander know I was here, I should have missed the letter outright. Truly I don't know who's bound to be sending for corks to stop your bottles, with a vengeance. Make a page of your own age, and send your man Alexander to buy corks; for Saunders already has gone above ten jaunts.

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnson say, truly they don't care for your wife's company, though they like your wine; but they had rather have it at their own house to drink in quiet.

However, they own it is very civil in Mrs. Sheri

dan to make the offer; and they cannot deny it. I wish Alexander safe at St. Catherine's to-night, with all my heart and soul, upon my word and honour :

But I think it base in you to send a poor fellow out so late at this time of year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr. Connor.

I would present my humble service to my Lady Mountcashel; but truly I thought she would

1 Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Dingley.---F.

have made advances to have been acquainted

with me, as she pretended.

But now I can write no more, for you see plainly my paper is ended.

1 P. S.

I wish, when you prated, your letter you'd dated:
Much plague it created. I scolded and rated;
My soul is much grated; for your man I long waited.
I think you are fated, like a bear to be baited:
Your man is belated: the case I have stated;
And me you have cheated. My stable's unslated.
Come back t' us well freighted.

I remember my late head; and wish you translated,
For teasing me.

2 P. S.

Mrs. Dingley desires me singly

Her service to present you; hopes that will content

you;

But Johnson madam is grown a sad dame,

For want of your converse, and cannot send one

verse.

3 P.S.

You keep such a twattling with

tling;

you and your bot

But I see the sum total, we shall ne'er have a bottle; The long and the short, we shall not have a quart, I wish you would sign't, that we have a pint.

For all your colloguing,' I'd be glad for a knog

gin:2

But I doubt 'tis a sham; you won't give us a dram. "Tis of shine a mouth moon-ful, you won't part with a spoonful,

And I must be nimble, if I can fill my thimble,

You see I won't stop, till I come to a drop;
But I doubt the oraculum, is a poor supernaculum;
Though perhaps you may tell it, for a grace if we
smell it.

STELLA.

DR. SHERIDAN'S ANSWER.

I'd have you to know, as sure as you're Dean,
On Thursday my cask of Obrien I'll drain;
If my wife is not willing, I say she's a quean;
And my right to the cellar, egad, I'll maintain
As bravely as any that fought at Dunblain:
Go tell her it over and over again.

I hope, as I ride to the town, it won't rain;
For, should it, I fear it will cool my hot brain,
Entirely extinguish my poetic vein;

And then I should be as stupid as Kain,

Who preach'd on three heads, though he mention'd but twain.

A phrase used in Ireland for a specious appearance of kindness without sincerity.---F.

2 A name used in Ireland for the English quartern.---F.

Now Wardel's in haste, and begins to complain; Your most humble servant, dear Sir, I remain,

T. S--N.

Get Helsham, Walmsley, Delany,
And some Grattans, if there be any:1
Take care you do not bid too many.

DR. SWIFT'S REPLY.

THE verses you sent on the bottling your wine
Were, in every one's judgment, exceedingly fine;
And I must confess, as a dean and divine,

I think you inspired by the Muses all nine.
I nicely examined them every line,

And the worst of them all like a barn-door did shine;
O, that Jove would give me such a talent as thine!
With Delany or Dan I would scorn to combine.
I know they have many a wicked design;
And, give Satan his due, Dan begins to refine.
However, I wish, honest comrade of mine,
You would really on Thursday leave St. Catharine,2
Where I hear you are cramm'd every day like a
swine;

With me you'll no more have a stomach to dine,
Nor after your victuals lie sleeping supine ;
So I wish you were toothless, like Lord Masserine.

1 i. e. in Dublin, for they were country clergy.---F.
2 The seat of Lady Mountcashel, near Dublin.---F.