of Gulliver's Travels, the greatest satire produced by the Scriblerians.

He passed a great part of his time at Twickenham, and in rambling with Pope or Gay about the country.

Those who do not know how often the encounter of brilliant wits tends to neutralize rather than stimulate their activity, may wish to have been present at a dinner which took place at Twickenham on July 6th, 1726, when the party was made up of Pope, the most finished poet of the day; Swift, the deepest humourist; Bolingbroke, the most brilliant politician; Congreve, the wittiest writer of comedy; and Gay, the author of the most successful burlesque.
The envious may console themselves by thinking that Pope very likely went to sleep, that Swift was deaf and overbearing, that Congreve and Bolingbroke were painfully witty, and Gay frightened into silence.

When in 1727 Swift again visited England, and stayed at Twickenham, the clouds were gathering.

The scene is set before us in some of Swift's verses:-- Pope has the talent well to speak, But not to reach the ear; His loudest voice is low and weak, The deaf too deaf to hear.
Awhile they on each other look, Then different studies choose; The dean sits plodding o'er a book, Pope walks and courts the muse.
"Two sick friends," says Swift in a letter written after his return to Ireland, "never did well together." It is plain that their infirmities had been mutually trying, and on the last day of August Swift suddenly withdrew from Twickenham, in spite of Pope's entreaties.