It would be nice if talent in one field would automatically recognize and appreciate it in another. But, sad to say, this is not always the case.

Take the case of Jonathan Swift, one of the greatest English writers of the 18th century, and Georg Frideric Handel, one of that century’s greatest composers.

In 1742, Handel was in Ireland, preparing for the premiere of his sacred oratorio "Messiah" at the Music Hall in Dublin’s Fishamble Street. Handel wanted to use the choirboys from Dublin’s two cathedrals, Christ Church and St. Patrick’s. Swift was the Dean of St. Patrick’s, and, on today’s date the author of “Gulliver’s Travels” penned this flaming letter to his sub dean:

“I do hereby require and request not to permit any of the choristers to attend or assist at any public musical performances... and whereas it hath been reported that I gave a license to assist a club of fiddlers in Fishamble Street, I do hereby declare that I do annul said license, entreating my said Sub-Dean to punish such as shall ever appeal there as songsters, fiddlers, pipers, trumpeters, drummers, drum-majors, or in any sonic quality, according to the flagrant aggravations of their respective disobedience, rebellion, perfidy and ingratitude.”

History does not record Handel’s response, but he did, in point of fact, eventually get to use the St. Patrick’s choir boys and other “songsters” he requested.