wou'd have prevented some Distresses, which I hear, are likely to fall heavy on her.
Swift. Dreams! Whims! and Delusions! If you had wrote your self as blind as Milton did, what Service cou'd you do a Nation that never thinks. You might as well expect to cure the Deaf by talking to them; Idiots by reasoning with them; or to rouse the Dead as the Romans did by bawling and weeping for their miserable Condition. If they had been retrievable by any Writings, I may justly say, they had been retrieved by mine.
——Si Pergama dextra,
Defendi possent, etiam hâc defensa fuissent.
But all such hopes are vain. Preach to Fishes and talk to Wolves like St. Anthony and St. Francis, and try what Change it will make in them, and be assur'd, just so much and no more, would your Arguments and Eloquence do, with our heedless Countrymen. I told them of their Danger, and every impending Ruin in Print, Winter after Winter, as regularly as Men wish People a good Year, every first of January; for let me tell you Tom, repetitions of this Sort, are as necessary in a Nation, that will not readily mind good Advice, as crying Fire! Fire! in a City in Flames, where all are drunk or asleep, and must either rouse and bestir themselves, or Perish. I cannot help boasting a little on this Subject, I have a Title to it; these Hands were almost as useful to the People of I–d, as Moses's were to the Jews: When I lifted them up, all went well; when I dropt them, all went wrong. However, I must own, that as to the bulk of the Nation, tho' I tried them, and studied them, for half a Century, I ever found that they wou'd not be at the pain of thinking, for half an hour, to secure their ease and happiness for half a Year. But, pray Tom, before you speak of the Distresses that menace I–d, let me hear what Grounds you have to say, She was, in a tolerable improving way, and on the mending hand (as you call'd it) when you died. I have heard indeed, from the Ghosts of some half-starved Silk-Weavers, and some Manufacturers of Irish Woollen Goods, that died of Hunger and Poverty, that I–d was vastly improv'd, as to Elegance of Taste, in her Gentry, as to eating and drinking: That they understood Musick, infinitely better than their Ancestors; that they drest vastly more agreeably than their stupid Grandmothers, and shew'd more good Sense in the nice choice of their Suits, and the Fancy and richness of their Cloaths, as well as the modest way of imitating naked Eve, in wearing them, than the last Age did. I was assured also, that they danced inconceivably finer than ever; that their Races, and their Subscriptions for them, quite surpast all Imagination; and that they gam'd deeper, and lost their Guineas with more ease and politeness, even to Strangers and Sharpers, than their Fathers did their Shillings to one another. As to any other Improvements, and particularly as to Learning, Virtue, or Piety, (which probably were over-look'd in the Account) they poor famish'd Devils, cou'd tell me nothing of them.
Prior. You are very merry Dean with the madness of our Countrymen, but I fear by and by, I shall hear another Story, and be as melancholy with their Miseries. However, as you desire it, I shall give you a fair Account what these Improvements were, which made me think our poor Country was in a tolerable Way. And in the first Place, I shall mention our numerous and extended Turnpikes, which have been carried on with incredible Application and surprizing Expence in all Parts, and I had almost said, brought to every Town, of the least Name, or Consequence in the Kingdom. Of what infinite Advantage this must prove to the Ease and Convenience of all Travellers, to the facilitating and promoting our inland Commerce, and the general Service of Trade, I need not tell you.
Swift. Ah, Tom, I know very well, if I–d had almost as many high Ways in it as the Ocean, what Advantages it would produce to us. This was one of the great Arts of the ancient Romans, who had prodigious Roads running thro' every Province, in a strait Line to the Capital of the Empire. But Alas! We copy them in our boasted Causeways, as we do in our Standing Armies, without having any real Business for either of them. I will for some Time, at least, drop the delicate Subject of our Troops; but as to the other Point, I must say, I think it is a Curse upon us, that we can't even copy a good Example (for bad Ones we do more adroitly) but we do it in a tricky dirty Manner, and with as many Deviations as we can. Why, dost thou not know, Tom, what base filthy Jobs, Knaves, and Mean-foul'd Wretches have made, and do still make of these magnified Turnpikes. I was once fix'd to write a Book of all the Cheats, and all the Reptiles, of what Quality or Station soever concern'd in them, but I found it would be so voluminous, that I left the Care of it to Posterity, as one of the largest Branches of Irish History, and Wisdom. But to dwell as little on such melancholy Disgraces of our Country, as I can, I will chuse only to hint to you, that fine Roads, without Travellers, and Stage-Coaches, without Passengers, are useless Things, that must soon be dropt; and without Manufactures, and proper Employment to set us at Work, can neither be for Use or Pleasure. Indeed, if we had Trade, and the Roads were fairly finish'd, they might help it; but in the mean Time, methinks we are in his Case, who built the Mill, without knowing whence to bring Water to it, or where to procure Grist for it. Nay, to make bad worse, after so many Acts for Turnpikes, you cannot but know, Tom, that we want one general Act to make them all passable. I am loth to be too severe on them, and those who make Pence by spoiling them; and therefore I will only say, passable for Footmen at least; for as to Carriages, if they are allowed to be driven on some of these Roads, they will be the utter Ruin of each other. But as I am quite sick of this, prithee Tom, let us go to some other Improvements of Ireland.
Prior. Why, the next I shall mention is one, which you cannot easily talk me out of, and that is, our prodigious Number of Converts; which, considering the Prejudices of a bigotted People, (envassaled to Rome, and Superstition) exceeds all Belief. It is a Matter of the highest Consequence to our Welfare, that we have so astonishing a Crowd of all Ranks, Fortunes, and Circumstances that have come over to our Church, who were formerly our inveterate Enemies, and are now perfectly united to us, both in our religious and political Interests: This is not only a great discomfort, and weakening to the Popish Party, but a considerable Encouragement and Strength, to all who wish well to the Protestant Religion in Ireland. As the Papists are now quite depriv'd, of all Men of Fortune, Family or Character, that were capable of heading their Attempts, or forming their Schemes of any Sort; I have ever look'd on this Affair of our numerous Converts, as likely to contribute emnently to the Peace and Prosperity of this Island. By this means, those spiritual Factions, which have often produced such fatal Effects here, by Rebellions and national Massacres, will be utterly extinguished, and both Conformists, Dissenters and Papists, will in a little Time, live in as much Harmony and Good-Humour together; as if our Statesmen had learn'd the Art of Father Boubours's Friend, who he tells us, had taught a Dog, a Cat, and a Mouse, to eat quietly together.
Swift. The Dissenters live in Harmony and good Humour! What, Tom, cannot even the Grave open your Eyes; as to those Favourites of yours, the Dissenters, after all the Pranks they have been playing of late, as if they had a mind to make good, all I ever writ against them: But keep your old kind Opinion of them, Tom, to your self, for I shall not dispute on it now, because a few Years, and a few Facts, will shew you fully what they drive at, and so to that great Explainer Time, I leave them, unless you start the Subject hereafter. As to our Converts which are our present Topick, I shall only say, when you consider how they manage, whose Interests they espouse, and who they herd with, you will not be too ready to vouch for their Sincerity, or build on their Friendship, especially when their Conversion is brought about, by worldly Interests, and securing their Estates. They remember, I fancy the Advice of Alexander the Great to the Athenians, who refused to own him for a God:
and therefore they take Care, not to sacrifice their Lands and Tenements, to Opinions that are equally inconsistent and inconvenient. As for the Story of Father Boubours's Friend, I shall only answer it, with one of Father Henepius, who was a very honest Missionary, and had made some Converts among the Indian Savages. In the small Number of those he had brought over, he met with an old Woman, whom he had taken so much pains in instructing, that at last he had thoroughly convinc'd her; and having admitted his new Christian to Baptism, he made her a present (and a very agreeable one to the Savages)
