Swift had a peculiar knack of conveying fine praise under cover of very rough words. When lord Carteret was lord lieutenant of Ireland, Swift happened to have a little dispute with him about the grievances that kingdom suffered from England, and the folly, nonsense, and injustice of their government in that respect; for he spared no hard words on that subject. The lord lieutenant replied with a mastery and strength of reasoning, for which he was so remarkable, and which Swift not well liking at that time, cried out in a violent passion — "What the vengeance brought you among us? Get you back — Get you back — Pray God Almighty send us our boobies again."
Being one day at a sheriff's feast, who, among other toasts, called out to him, "Mr. dean, The trade of Ireland:" he answered quick, — "Sir, I drink no memories[1]."
He greatly admired the talents of the late duke of Wharton, as the duke did his; who one day dining with the dean, and recounting several wild frolicks he had run through; "My lord," said Swift, "let me recommend one more to you — Take a frolick to be good — rely upon it, you will find it the pleasantest frolick you ever was engaged in[2]."
- ↑ To take the force of this answer, it is necessary to observe, that it was made soon after bishop Brown's book had come out against 'Drinking the Memories of the Dead;' which at that time made some noise.
- ↑ Doctor Delany has wonderfully marred this tale in the telling, as he has entirely missed the point, concluding it thus — "Take my word for it, that one will do you more honour than all the other frolicks of your life." To annex the idea of honour to frolicks, is nonsense; they can be only considered as pleasant.
