England enjoys every one of these advantages for enriching a Nation,

which I have above enumerated, and into the bargain, a good million

returned to them every year without labour or hazard, or one farthing

value received on our side. But how long we shall be able to continue

the payment, I am not under the least concern. One thing I know, that

_when the hen is starved to death, there will be no more golden eggs_.

I think it a little unhospitable, and others may call it a subtile piece

of malice, that, because there may be a dozen families in this Town,

able to entertain their English friends in a generous manner at their

tables, their guests upon their return to England, shall report that we

wallow in riches and luxury.

Yet I confess I have known an hospital, where all the household officers

grew rich, while the poor for whose sake it was built, were almost

starving for want of food and raiment.

To conclude. If Ireland be a rich and flourishing Kingdom, its wealth

and prosperity must be owing to certain causes, that are yet concealed

from the whole race of mankind, and the effects are equally invisible.

We need not wonder at strangers when they deliver such paradoxes, but a

native and inhabitant of this Kingdom, who gives the same verdict, must

be either ignorant to stupidity, or a man-pleaser at the expense of all

honour, conscience and truth.

THE STORY

OF THE

INJURED LADY.

WRITTEN BY HERSELF.

AND

THE ANSWER TO THE

INJURED LADY.

NOTE.

Under the guises of a gentleman and two ladies, Swift represents

England, Scotland, and Ireland--England being the gentleman and

Scotland and Ireland the two mistresses for whom he is affecting an

honourable love. The Injured Lady is Ireland, who represents her

rival, Scotland, as unworthy of her lover's attention. She

expatiates on her own attractions and upbraids him also on his

treatment of her. This affords Swift an opportunity for some

searching and telling criticism on England's conduct towards

Ireland. The fiction is admirably maintained throughout the story.

In "The Answer to the Injured Lady" which follows "The Story,"

Swift takes it upon himself to give her proper advice for her

future conduct towards her lover. In this advice he reiterates what

he has always been saying to the people of Ireland, but formulates

it in the language affected by the lady herself. He tells her that

she should look to it that her "family and tenants have no

dependence upon the said gentleman farther than by the old

agreement [the Act of Henry VII], which obliges you to have the

same steward, and to regulate your household by such methods as you

should both agree to"; that she shall be free to carry her goods to

any market she pleases; that she shall compel the servants to whom

she pays wages to remain at home; and that if she make an agreement

with a tenant, it shall not be in his power to break it. If she

will only show a proper spirit, he assures her that there are

gentlemen who would be glad of an occasion to support her in her

resentment.

* * * * *

The text of both the tracts here given is based on that of the

earliest edition I could find, namely, that of 1746, collated with

that given by Faulkner.

[T. S.]

THE

STORY

OF THE

INJURED LADY.

Being a true PICTURE of SCOTCH Perfidy, IRISH

Poverty, and ENGLISH Partiality.

WITH

LETTERS and POEMS

Never before Printed.

* * * * *

By the Rev. Dr. SWIFT, D. S. P. D.

* * * * *

_LONDON_,

Printed for M. COOPER, at the _Globe_ in

_Pater-Noster-Row_. MDCCXLVI.

[Price One Shilling.]

SIR,

Being ruined by the inconstancy and unkindness of a lover, I hope, a

true and plain relation of my misfortunes may be of use and warning to

credulous maids, never to put too much trust in deceitful men.

A gentleman[58] in the neighbourhood had two mistresses, another and

myself;[59] and he pretended honourable love to us both. Our three

houses stood pretty near one another; his was parted from mine by a

river,[60] and from my rival's by an old broken wall.[61] But before I

enter into the particulars of this gentleman's hard usage of me, I will

give a very just impartial character of my rival and myself.

As to her person she is tall and lean, and very ill shaped; she hath bad

features, and a worse complexion; she hath a stinking breath, and twenty

ill smells about her besides; which are yet more insufferable by her

natural sluttishness; for she is always lousy, and never without the

itch. As to other qualities, she hath no reputation either for virtue,

honesty, truth, or manners; and it is no wonder, considering what her

education hath been. Scolding and cursing are her common conversation.

To sum up all; she is poor and beggarly, and gets a sorry maintenance by

pilfering wherever she comes. As for this gentleman who is now so fond

of her, she still beareth him an invincible hatred; revileth him to his

face, and raileth at him in all companies. Her house is frequented by a

company of rogues and thieves, and pickpockets, whom she encourageth to

rob his hen-roosts, steal his corn and cattle, and do him all manner of

mischief.[62] She hath been known to come at the head of these rascals,

and beat her lover until he was sore from head to foot, and then force

him to pay for the trouble she was at. Once, attended with a crew of

ragamuffins, she broke into his house, turned all things topsy-turvy,

and then set it on fire. At the same time she told so many lies among

his servants, that it set them all by the ears, and his poor _Steward_

was knocked on the head;[63] for which I think, and so doth all the

Country, that she ought to be answerable. To conclude her character; she

is of a different religion, being a Presbyterian of the most rank and

virulent kind, and consequently having an inveterate hatred to the

Church; yet, I am sure, I have been always told, that in marriage there

ought to be an union of minds as well as of persons.

I will now give my own character, and shall do it in few words, and with

modesty and truth.

I was reckoned to be as handsome as any in our neighbourhood, until I

became pale and thin with grief and ill usage. I am still fair enough,

and have, I think, no very ill feature about me. They that see me now

will hardly allow me ever to have had any great share of beauty; for

besides being so much altered, I go always mobbed and in an undress, as

well out of neglect, as indeed for want of clothes to appear in. I might

add to all this, that I was born to a good estate, although it now

turneth to little account under the oppressions I endure, and hath been

the true cause of all my misfortunes.[64]

Some years ago, this gentleman taking a fancy either to my person or

fortune, made his addresses to me; which, being then young and foolish,

I too readily admitted; he seemed to use me with so much tenderness, and

his conversation was so very engaging, that all my constancy and virtue

were too soon overcome; and, to dwell no longer upon a theme that

causeth such bitter reflections, I must confess with shame, that I was

undone by the common arts practised upon all easy credulous virgins,

half by force, and half by consent, after solemn vows and protestations

of marriage. When he had once got possession, he soon began to play the

usual part of a too fortunate lover, affecting on all occasions to shew

his authority, and to act like a conqueror. First, he found fault with

the government of my family, which I grant, was none of the best,

consisting of ignorant illiterate creatures; for at that time, I knew

but little of the world. In compliance to him, therefore, I agreed to

fall into his ways and methods of living; I consented that his

steward[65] should govern my house, and have liberty to employ an

under-steward,[66] who should receive his directions. My lover proceeded

further, turning away several old servants and tenants, and supplying me

with others from his own house. These grew so domineering and

unreasonable, that there was no quiet, and I heard of nothing but

perpetual quarrels, which although I could not possibly help, yet my

lover laid all the blame and punishment upon me; and upon every falling

out, still turned away more of my people, and supplied me in their stead

with a number of fellows and dependents of his own, whom he had no other

way to provide for.[67] Overcome by love and to avoid noise and

contention, I yielded to all his usurpations, and finding it in vain to

resist, I thought it my best policy to make my court to my new servants,

and draw them to my interests; I fed them from my own table with the

best I had, put my new tenants on the choice parts of my land, and

treated them all so kindly, that they began to love me as well as their

master. In process of time, all my old servants were gone, and I had not

a creature about me, nor above one or two tenants but what were of his

choosing; yet I had the good luck by gentle usage to bring over the

greatest part of them to my side. When my lover observed this, he began

to alter his language; and, to those who enquired about me, he would

answer, that I was an old dependant upon his family, whom he had placed

on some concerns of his own; and he began to use me accordingly,

neglecting by degrees all common civility in his behaviour. I shall

never forget the speech he made me one morning, which he delivered with

all the gravity in the world. He put me in the mind of the vast

obligations I lay under to him, in sending me so many of his people for

my own good, and to teach me manners: That it had cost him ten times

more than I was worth, to maintain me: That it had been much better for

him, if I had been damned, or burnt, or sunk to the bottom of the sea:

That it was but reasonable I should strain myself as far as I was able,

to reimburse him some of his charges: That from henceforward he expected

his word should be a law to me in all things: That I must maintain a

parish-watch against thieves and robbers, and give salaries to an

overseer, a constable, and others, all of his own choosing, whom he

would send from time to time to be spies upon me: That to enable me the

better in supporting these expenses, my tenants shall be obliged to

carry all their goods cross the river to his town-market, and pay toll

on both sides, and then sell them at half value.[68] But because we were

a nasty sort of people, and that he could not endure to touch anything

we had a hand in, and likewise, because he wanted work to employ his own

folks, therefore we must send all our goods to his market just in their

naturals;[69] the milk immediately from the cow without making it into

cheese or butter; the corn in the ear, the grass as it is mowed; the

wool as it cometh from the sheep's back, and bring the fruit upon the

branch, that he might not be obliged to eat it after our filthy hands:

That if a tenant carried but a piece of bread and cheese to eat by the

way, or an inch of worsted to mend his stockings, he should forfeit his

whole parcel: And because a company of rogues usually plied on the river

between us, who often robbed my tenants of their goods and boats, he

ordered a waterman of his to guard them, whose manner was to be out of

the way until the poor wretches were plundered; then to overtake the

thieves, and seize all as lawful prize to his master and himself. It

would be endless to repeat a hundred other hardships he hath put upon

me; but it is a general rule, that whenever he imagines the smallest

advantage will redound to one of his footboys by any new oppression of

me and my whole family and estate, he never disputeth it a moment. All

this hath rendered me so very insignificant and contemptible at home,

that some servants to whom I pay the greatest wages, and many tenants

who have the most beneficial leases, are gone over to live with him; yet

I am bound to continue their wages, and pay their rents;[70] by which

means one third part of my whole income is spent on his estate, and

above another third by his tolls and markets; and my poor tenants are so

sunk and impoverished, that, instead of maintaining me suitably to my

quality, they can hardly find me clothes to keep me warm, or provide the

common necessaries of life for themselves.

Matters being in this posture between me and my lover; I received

intelligence that he had been for some time making very pressing

overtures of marriage to my rival, until there happened some

misunderstandings between them; she gave him ill words, and threatened

to break off all commerce with him. He, on the other side, having either

acquired courage by his triumphs over me, or supposing her as tame a

fool as I, thought at first to carry it with a high hand; but hearing at

the same time, that she had thoughts of making some private proposals to

join with me against him, and doubting, with very good reason, that I

would readily accept them, he seemed very much disconcerted.[71] This I

thought was a proper occasion to shew some great example of generosity

and love, and so, without further consideration, I sent him word, that

hearing there was likely to be a quarrel between him and my rival;

notwithstanding all that had passed, and without binding him to any

conditions in my own favour, I would stand by him against her and all

the world, while I had a penny in my purse, or a petticoat to pawn. This

message was subscribed by all my chief tenants; and proved so powerful,

that my rival immediately grew more tractable upon it. The result of

which was, that there is now a treaty of marriage concluded between

them,[72] the wedding clothes are bought, and nothing remaineth but to

perform the ceremony, which is put off for some days, because they

design it to be a public wedding. And to reward my love, constancy, and

generosity, he hath bestowed on me the office of being sempstress to his

grooms and footmen, which I am forced to accept or starve.[73] Yet, in

the midst of this my situation, I cannot but have some pity for this

deluded man, to cast himself away on an infamous creature, who, whatever

she pretendeth, I can prove, would at this very minute rather be a whore

to a certain great man, that shall be nameless, if she might have her

will.[74] For my part, I think, and so doth all the country too, that

the man is possessed; at least none of us are able to imagine what he

can possibly see in her, unless she hath bewitched him, or given him

some powder.

I am sure, I never sought his alliance, and you can bear me witness,

that I might have had other matches; nay, if I were lightly disposed, I

could still perhaps have offers, that some, who hold their heads higher,

would be glad to accept.[75] But alas! I never had any such wicked

thought; all I now desire is, only to enjoy a little quiet, to be free

from the persecutions of this unreasonable man, and that he will let me

manage my own little fortune to the best advantage; for which I will

undertake to pay him a considerable pension every year, much more

considerable than what he now gets by his oppressions; for he must needs

find himself a loser at last, when he hath drained me and my tenants so

dry, that we shall not have a penny for him or ourselves. There is one

imposition of his, I had almost forgot, which I think unsufferable, and

will appeal to you or any reasonable person, whether it be so or not. I

told you before, that by an old compact we agreed to have the same

steward, at which time I consented likewise to regulate my family and

estate by the same method with him, which he then shewed me writ down

in form, and I approved of.[76] Now, the turn he thinks fit to give this

compact of ours is very extraordinary; for he pretends that whatever

orders he shall think fit to prescribe for the future in his family, he

may, if he will, compel mine to observe them, without asking my advice,

or hearing my reasons. So that, I must not make a lease without his

consent, or give any directions for the well-governing of my family, but

what he countermands whenever he pleaseth. This leaveth me at such

confusion and uncertainty, that my servants know not when to obey me,

and my tenants, although many of them be very well inclined, seem quite

at a loss.

But I am too tedious upon this melancholy subject, which however, I

hope, you will forgive, since the happiness of my whole life dependeth

upon it. I desire you will think a while, and give your best advice what

measures I shall take with prudence, justice, courage, and honour, to

protect my liberty and fortune against the hardships and severities I

lie under from that unkind, inconstant man.

THE ANSWER TO THE INJURED LADY.

MADAM,

I have received your Ladyship's letter, and carefully considered every

part of it, and shall give you my opinion how you ought to proceed for

your own security. But first, I must beg leave to tell your Ladyship,

that you were guilty of an unpardonable weakness t'other day in making

that offer to your lover, of standing by him in any quarrel he might

have with your rival. You know very well, that she began to apprehend he

had designs of using her as he had done you; and common prudence might

have directed you rather to have entered into some measures with her for

joining against him, until he might at least be brought to some

reasonable terms: But your invincible hatred to that lady hath carried

your resentments so high, as to be the cause of your ruin; yet, if you

please to consider, this aversion of yours began a good while before she

became your rival, and was taken up by you and your family in a sort of

compliment to your lover, who formerly had a great abhorrence for her.

It is true, since that time you have suffered very much by her

encroachments upon your estate,[77] but she never pretended to govern or

direct you: And now you have drawn a new enemy upon yourself; for I

think you may count upon all the ill offices she can possibly do you by

her credit with her husband; whereas, if, instead of openly declaring

against her without any provocation, you had but sat still awhile, and

said nothing, that gentleman would have lessened his severity to you out

of perfect fear. This weakness of yours, you call generosity; but I

doubt there was more in the matter. In short, Madam, I have good

reasons to think you were betrayed to it by the pernicious counsels of

some about you: For to my certain knowledge, several of your tenants and

servants, to whom you have been very kind, are as arrant rascals as any

in the Country. I cannot but observe what a mighty difference there is

in one particular between your Ladyship and your rival. Having yielded

up your person, you thought nothing else worth defending, and therefore

you will not now insist upon those very conditions for which you yielded

at first. But your Ladyship cannot be ignorant, that some years since

your rival did the same thing, and upon no conditions at all; nay, this

gentleman kept her as a miss, and yet made her pay for her diet and

lodging.[78] But, it being at a time when he had no steward, and his

family out of order, she stole away, and hath now got the trick very

well known among the women of the town, to grant a man the favour over

night and the next day have the impudence to deny it to his face. But,

it is too late to reproach you with any former oversights, which cannot

now be rectified. I know the matters of fact as you relate them are true

and fairly represented. My advice therefore is this. Get your tenants

together as soon as you conveniently can, and make them agree to the

following resolutions.

_First_, That your family and tenants have no dependence upon the said

gentleman, further than by the old agreement, which obligeth you to have

the same steward, and to regulate your household by such methods as you

should both agree to.[79]

_Secondly_, That you will not carry your goods to the market of his

town, unless you please, nor be hindered from carrying them anywhere

else.[80]

_Thirdly_, That the servants you pay wages to shall live at home, or

forfeit their places.[81]

_Fourthly_, That whatever lease you make to a tenant, it shall not be in

his power to break it.[82]

If he will agree to these articles, I advise you to contribute as

largely as you can to all charges of Parish and County.

I can assure you, several of that gentleman's ablest tenants and

servants are against his severe usage of you, and would be glad of an

occasion to convince the rest of their error, if you will not be wanting

to yourself.

If the gentleman refuses these just and reasonable offers, pray let me

know it, and perhaps I may think of something else that will be more

effectual.

I am,

Madam,

Your Ladyship's, etc.

AN

ANSWER TO A PAPER,

CALLED

"A MEMORIAL

OF THE

POOR INHABITANTS, TRADESMEN, AND LABOURERS OF THE KINGDOM OF IRELAND."

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1728.

NOTE.

This is, perhaps, as trenchant and fine a piece of writing as is to

be found in any of those pamphlets Swift wrote for the alleviation

of the miserable condition of Ireland. The author of the "Memorial"

to which Swift made this passionate reply was Sir John Browne, and

the purport of his writing may be easily gathered from Swift's

animadversions.

* * * * *

The text here given is based on that printed by Faulkner in 1735 in

the fourth volume of his collected edition of Swift's works. Scott

reprints Browne's "Memorial" and his reply to the present "Answer,"

but they are of little importance and in no way assist us in our

appreciation of Swift's work. The date of Swift's answer is given

by Faulkner as "March 25th, 1728," which year Scott misprints 1738,

evidently a printer's error, though the arrangement of the order of

the pamphlets in his edition leaves much to be desired.

[T. S.]

AN ANSWER TO A PAPER, CALLED

"A MEMORIAL

OF THE

POOR INHABITANTS, TRADESMEN, AND LABOURERS OF THE KINGDOM OF IRELAND."

I received a paper from you, wherever you are, printed without any name

of author or printer, and sent, I suppose, to me among others, without

any particular distinction. It contains a complaint of the dearness of

corn, and some schemes of making it cheaper which I cannot approve of.

But pray permit me, before I go further, to give you a short history of

the steps by which we arrived at this hopeful situation.

It was, indeed, the shameful practice of too many Irish farmers, to wear

out their ground with ploughing; while, either through poverty,

laziness, or ignorance, they neither took care to manure it as they

ought, nor gave time to any part of the land to recover itself; and,

when their leases are near expiring, being assured that their landlords

would not renew, they ploughed even the meadows, and made such a havock,

that many landlords were considerable sufferers by it.

This gave birth to that abominable race of graziers, who, upon

expiration of the farmer's leases were ready to engross great quantities

of land; and the gentlemen having been before often ill paid, and their

land worn out of heart, were too easily tempted, when a rich grazier

made him an offer to take all his land, and give his security for

payment. Thus a vast tract of land, where twenty or thirty farmers

lived, together with their cottagers and labourers in their several

cabins, became all desolate, and easily managed by one or two herdsmen

and their boys; whereby the master-grazier, with little trouble, seized

to himself the livelihood of a hundred people.

It must be confessed, that the farmers were justly punished for their

knavery, brutality, and folly. But neither are the squires and landlords

to be excused; for to them is owing the depopulating of the country, the

vast number of beggars, and the ruin of those few sorry improvements we

had.

That farmers should be limited in ploughing is very reasonable, and

practised in England, and might have easily been done here by penal

clauses in their leases; but to deprive them, in a manner, altogether

from tilling their lands, was a most stupid want of thinking.

Had the farmers been confined to plough a certain quantity of land, with

a penalty of ten pounds an acre for whatever they exceeded, and farther

limited for the three or four last years of their leases, all this evil

had been prevented; the nation would have saved a million of money, and

been more populous by above two hundred thousand souls.

For a people, denied the benefit of trade, to manage their lands in such

a manner as to produce nothing but what they are forbidden to trade

with,[83] or only such things as they can neither export nor manufacture

to advantage, is an absurdity that a wild Indian would be ashamed of;

especially when we add, that we are content to purchase this hopeful

commerce, by sending to foreign markets for our daily bread.

The Prose Works of Jonathan Swift, D.D. - Volume 07 Historical and Political Tracts-Irish · 第 6 / 28 段