He was the only person of his time who could cheat without the mask of honesty, retain his primeval meanness when possessed of ten thousand a year; and, having daily deserved the gibbet for what he did, was at last condemned to it for what he could not do.

O indignant reader, think not his life useless to mankind, providence connived at his execrable designs, to give to after-ages a conspicuous proof and example of how small estimation is exorbitant wealth in the sight of God, by his bestowing it on the most unworthy of all mortals.

      Joannes jacet hic Mirandula—­caetera norunt
      Et Tagus et Ganges forsan et Antipodes.

Applied to F. C.

      Here Francis Chartres lies—­be civil! 
      The rest God knows—­perhaps the devil.

JONATHAN SWIFT.

(1667-1745.)

XXVI.  MRS. FRANCES HARRIS’ PETITION.

Written in the year 1701.  The Lord Justices addressed were the Earls of Berkeley and of Galway.  The “Lady Betty” mentioned in the piece was the Lady Betty Berkeley.  “Lord Dromedary”, the Earl of Drogheda, and “The Chaplain”, Swift himself.  The author was at the time smarting under a sense of disappointment over the failure of his request to Lord Berkeley for preferment to the rich deanery of Derry.

TO THEIR EXCELLENCIES THE LORD JUSTICES OF IRELAND.  THE HUMBLE PETITION OF FRANCES HARRIS, WHO MUST STARVE, AND DIE A MAID, IF IT MISCARRIES.  HUMBLY SHOWETH,

  That I went to warm myself in Lady Betty’s chamber, because I was cold,
  And I had in a purse seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence,
          besides farthings, in money and gold: 
  So, because I had been buying things for my lady last night,
  I was resolved to tell my money, and see if it was right. 
  Now you must know, because my trunk has a very bad lock,
  Therefore all the money I have, which God knows, is a very small stock,
  I keep in my pocket, tied about my middle, next my smock. 
  So, when I went to put up my purse, as luck would have it,
          my smock was unript,
  And instead of putting it into my pocket, down it slipt: 
  Then the bell rung, and I went down to put my lady to bed;
  And, God knows, I thought my money was as safe as my stupid head! 
  So, when I came up again, I found my pocket feel very light: 
  But when I search’d and miss’d my purse, law!  I thought I should have
          sunk outright. 
  “Lawk, madam,” says Mary, “how d’ye do?” “Indeed,” says I, “never worse: 
  But pray, Mary, can you tell what I’ve done with my purse?”
  “Lawk, help me!” said Mary; “I never stirred out of this place:” 
  “Nay,” said I, “I had it in Lady Betty’s chamber, that’s a plain case.” 
  So Mary got me to bed, and cover’d me up warm: 
  However, she stole away my garters, that