ordinary; sixth, residents; seventh, consuls; and eighth, secretaries.

Politician. How is a foreign minister to be known? Student. By his credentials.

Politician. When are a foreign minister's credentials to be delivered?

Student. Upon his first admission into the presence of the prince, to whom he is sent, otherwise called his first audience.

Politician. How many kind of audiences are there? Student. Two, which are called a publick audience, and a private audience.

Politician. What should a foreign minister's behaviour be when he has his first audience?

Student. He should bow profoundly, speak deliberately, and wear both sides of his long periwig before, &c.

By these few questions and answers you may be able to make some judgment of the usefulness of this politick treatise. Wicquefort, it is true, can never be sufficiently admired for his elaborate treatise of the conduct of an embassador in all his negotiations: but I design this only as a compendium, or the embassador's manual, or vade mecum.

I have writ so far of this letter, and do not know who to send it to; but I have now determined to send it, either to Dr. Arbuthnot, the dean of St. Patrick's, or to both. My lord Clarendon is very much approved of at court, and I believe is not dissatisfied with his reception. We have not much variety of diversions: what we did yesterday and to day we shall do to morrow which is, to go to court, and walk in the gardens at Herenhausen. If I write any more, my letter 'will be just like my diversions, the same thing over and over again. So, sirs,

Your most obliged humble servant,
J.GAY.

I would have writ this letter over again, but I had not time. Correct all my errata.

I

FROM DR. ARBUTHNOT TO MR. POPE.

London, Sept. 7, 1714.

am extremely obliged to you for taking notice of a poor old distressed courtier, commonly the most despisable thing in the world. This blow has so roused Scriblerus that he has recovered his senses, and thinks and talks like other men. From being frolicksome and gay, he is turned grave and morose. His lucubrations lie neglected among old news-papers, cases, petitions, and abundance of unanswerable letters. I wish to God they had been among the papers of a noble lord sealed up; then might Scriblerus have passed for pretender, and it would have been a most excellent and laborious work for the Flying Post, or some such author, to have allegorized all his adventures into a plot, and found out mysteries somewhat like the Key to the Lock. Martin's office is now the second door to the left hand in Dover-street, where he will be' glad to see Dr. Parnell, Mr. Pope, and his old friends; to whom he can still afford a half pint of Claret. It is with some pleasure that he contemplates the world still busy, and all mankind at work for him. I have seen a letter from dean Swift; he keeps up his noble spirit; and though like a man knocked down, you may behold him still with a stern countenance, and aiming a blow at his adversaries. I will add no more, being in haste; only, that I will never forgive you, if you cannot use my aforesaid house in Doverstreet, with the same freedom you did that in St. James's; for as our friendship was not begun upon the selation of a courtier, so I hope it will not end with it

I will always be proud to be reckoned amongst the number of your friends and humble servants.

TO LORD BOLINGBROKE.

MY LORD,

Dublin, Sept. 14, 1714. I HOPE your lordship, who were always so kind to me while you were a servant, will not forget me now in your greatness. I give you this caution, because I really believe you will be apt to be exalted in your new station of retirement, which was the only honourable post that those who gave it you were capable of conferring. And as, in other employments, the circumstances with which they are given, are sometimes said to be equally valuable with the gift itself, so it was in your case. The sealing up your office, and especially without any directions from the king, discovered such sentiments of you in such persons, as would make any honest man proud to share them.

I must be so free as to tell you, that this new office of retirement will be harder for you to keep, than that of secretary: and you lie under one great disad vantage, beside your being too young; that whereas none but knaves and fools desire to deprive you of your former post, all the honest men in England will be for putting you out of this.

I go on in writing, though I know not how to send you my letter. If I were sure it would be opened by the sealers of your office, I would fill it with some terms of art, that they would better deserve, than relish.

It is a point of wisdom too hard for me, not to look back with vexation upon past management. Divines tell us often from their pulpits, "That half the pains

which some men take to be damned, would have compassed their salvation:" this, I am sure, was extremely our case. I know not what motions your lordship intends: but, if I see the old whig measures taken in the next elections; and that the Court, the Bank, East India, and South Sea, act strenuously, and procure a majority; I shall lie down, and beg of Jupiter to heave the cart out of the dirt.

dead

I would give all I am worth, for the sake of my country, that you had left your mantle with somebody in the house of commons, or that a dozen honest men among them had only so many shreds of it.--And so, having dispatched all our friends in England, off flies splinter, and knocks two governors of Ireland dead. I remember, we never had leisure to think of is used like the that kingdom. The poor queen giant Longaron in Rabelais. Pantagruel took Longaron by the heels, and made him his weapon to kill twenty other giants; then flung him over a river in the I could town, and killed two ducks and an old cat. talk very wisely to you, but you would regard me not. I could bid you, non desperare de republicâ; and say, that res nolunt diu malè administrari. But I will cut all short, and assure you, that, if you do not I will not be at the pains of racking my vention to guess how we shall be saved; and yet I have read Polybius.

save us,

in

They tell me you have a very good crop of wheat, but the barley is bad. Hay will certainly be dear, found unless we have an open winter. I hope you your hounds in good condition, and that Bright has not made a stirrup-leather of your jockey-belt.

I imagine you now smoking with your humdrum squire (I forget his name) who can go home at midnight, and open a dozen gates when he is drunk.

I beg your lordship not to ask me to lend you any money. If will come and live at the deanery,

VOL. XVI.

you

L

and furnish up an apartment, I will find you in victuals and drink, which is more than ever you got by the court and as proud as you are, I hope to see you accept a part of this offer before I die.

The take this country; it has, in three weeks, spoiled two as good sixpenny pamphlets, as ever a proclamation was issued against. And since we talk of that, will there not be * * * * * * * * * * * * * * +? I shall be cured of loving England, as the fellow was of his ague, by getting himself whipped through the town.

I would retire too, if I could; but my country seat, where I have an acre of ground, is gone to ruin. The wall of my own apartment is fallen down, and I want mud to rebuild it, and straw to thatch it. Besides, a spiteful neighbour has seized on six feet of ground, carried off my trees, and spoiled my grove. All this is literally true, and I have not fortitude enough to go and see those devastations.

But, in return, I live a country life in town, see nobody, and go every day once to prayers; and hope, in a few months, to grow as stupid as the present situation of affairs will require.

Well, after all, parsons are not such bad company, especially when they are under subjection; and I let none but such come near me.

However, pray God forgive them, by whose indolence, neglect, or want of friendship, I am reduced to live with twenty leagues of salt water between your lordship and me, &c.

FROM DR. ARBUTHNOT.

DEAR BROTHER,

Oct. 19, 1714.

EVEN in affliction, your letter made me melancholy,

+ Here are two or three words in the manuscript totally erased and illegible. D. S.