times, can make ten Treaties in a year, and secure everlasting peace?

I can no longer disagree with you, though in jest. Oh how heartily I join with you in your contempt for Excellency and Grace, and in your esteem of that most noble title, Loiterer. If I were a man of many plums, and a good heathen, I would dedicate a Temple to Laziness: no man sure could blame my choice of such a Deity, who considers, that, when I have been fool enough to take pains, I always met with some wise man able to undo my labours.

Your, etc.

LETTER XXXVI.

You were in a very polemic humour when you did me the honour to answer my last. I always understood, like a true controvertist, that to answer is only to cavil and quarrel: however, I forgive you, you did it (as all Polemics do) to shew your parts. Else was it not very vexatious, to deny me to commend two women at a time? It is true, my Lord, you know women as well as men: but since you certainly love them better, why are you so uncharitable in your opinion of them? Surely one Lady may allow another to have the thing she herself least values, Reason, when Beauty is uncontested. Venus herself could allow Minerva to be Goddess of Wit, when Paris gave her the apple (as the fool herself thought)

I do

say

on a better accouut. that Lady P* is a reasonable woman; and I think she will not take it amiss, if I should insist upon esteeming her, instead of toasting her like a silly thing I could name, who is the Venus of these days. I see you had forgot my letter, or would not let her know how much I thought of her in this reasonable way: but I have been kinder to you, and have shewn your letter to one who will take it candidly.

But for God's sake, what have you said about Politicians? you made me a great compliment in the trust you reposed in my prudence, or what mischief might not I have done you with some that affect that denomination? Your Lordship might as safely have spoken of Heroes. What a bluster would the God of the winds have made, and one that we know puffed against Æolus, or (like Xerxes) whipped the seas? They had dialogued it in the language of the Rehearsal,

I'll give him flash for flash-
I'll give him dash for dash-

But all now is safe; the Poets are preparing songs of joy, and Halcyon days are the word.

I hope, my Lord, it will not be long before your dutiful affection bring you to town. I fear it will a little raise your envy to find all the Muses employed in celebrating a Royal work, which your own par tiality will think inferior to Bevis-Mount. But if you have any inclination to be even with them, you need but put three or four Wits into any hole in your Garden, and they will out-rhyme all Eaton and West

The Hermitage. W.

minster. I think, Swift, Gay, and I, could undertake it, if you don't think our Heads too expensive: but the same hand that did the others, will do them as cheap. If all else should fail, you are sure at least of the head, hand, and heart, of your servant.

Why should you fear any disagreeable news to reach us at Mount-Bevis? Do as I do even within ten miles of London, let no news whatever come near you. As to public affairs we never knew a deader season: 'tis all silent, deep tranquillity. Indeed, they say, 'tis sometimes so just before an Earthquake. But whatever happens, cannot we observe the wise neutrality of the Dutch, and let all about us fall by the ears? or if you, my Lord, should be pricked on by any old-fashioned notions of Honour and Romance, and think it necessary for the General of the Marines to be in action, when our Fleets are in motion; meet them at Spithead, and take me along with you. I decline no danger where the glory of Great Britain is concerned and will contribute to empty the largest bowl of punch that shall be rigged out on such an occasion. Adieu, my Lord, and may as many Years attend you, as may be happy and honourable.

LETTER XXXVII.

FROM THE EARL OF PETERBOROW.

You must receive my letters with a just impartiality, and give grains of allowance for a gloomy or rainy day; I sink grievously with the weatherglass, and am quite spiritless when oppressed with the thoughts of a Birth-day, or a Return.

Dutiful affection was bringing me to town, but undutiful laziness, and being much out of order, keep me in the country: however, if alive, I must make my appearance at the birth-day. Where you shewed one letter, you may shew the other; she that never was wanting in any good office in her power, will make a proper excuse, where a sin of Omission, I fear, is not reckoned as a venial sin.

I consent you shall call me polemic, or associate me to any sect or Corporation, provided you do not join me to the Charitable Rogues or to the Pacific Politicians of the present age. I have read over 6 Barkley in vain, and find, after a stroke given on the left, I cannot offer the right cheek for another

* In a curious and original Letter, which I have read by the favour of the late Dutchess Dowager of Portland, Prior speaks thus slightingly of the veracity of this celebrated Earl, to Lord Oxford, dated February 10, 1714.

"Lord Peterborow," says he, "is gone from Genoa in an open boat-that's one; 300 miles by sea-that's two; that he was forced ashore twenty times by Tempests and Majorkeens to lie among the rocks-that's-how many, my Lord Treasurer ?" Barkley's Apology for the Quakers. P.

blow all I can bring myself to is, to bear mortification from the Fair Sex with patience.

You seem to think it vexatious that I shall allow you but one woman at a time, either to praise or love. If I dispute with you upon this point, I doubt every jury will give a verdict against me. So, Sir, with a Mahometan indulgence, I allow you pluralities, the favourite privilege of our church.

tell

I find you do not mend upon correction; again I you, you must not think of women in a reasonable way; you know we always make Goddesses of those we adore upon earth; and do not all the good men tell us, we must lay aside Reason in what relates to the Deity?

"Tis well the Poets are preparing songs of joy: 'tis well to lay in antidotes of soft rhyme, against the rough prose they may chance to meet with at Westminster. I should have been glad of any thing of Swift's Pray, when you write to him next, tell him I expect him with impatience, in a place as odd and as much out of the way, as himself.

Yours.

LETTER XXXVIII.

FROM THE SAME.

WHENEVER you apply as a good Papist to your female Mediatrix, you are sure of success; but there is not a full assurance of your entire submission

"Lady Peterborow, a rigid Papist.