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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Journal to Stella, by Jonathan Swift,
+Edited by George A. Aitken
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 
+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at 
+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Journal to Stella
+
+
+Author: Jonathan Swift
+
+Editor: George A. Aitken
+
+Release Date: April 25, 2015  [eBook #4208]
+[This file was first posted on December 6, 2001]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JOURNAL TO STELLA***
+
+
+This eBook was produced by Les Bowler.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   THE
+                            JOURNAL TO STELLA
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              JONATHAN SWIFT
+
+                 EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, BY
+                             GEORGE A. AITKEN
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                              METHUEN & CO.
+                           36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
+                                  LONDON
+                                   1901
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+THE history of the publication of the _Journal to Stella_ is somewhat
+curious.  On Swift’s death twenty-five of the letters, forming the
+closing portion of the series, fell into the hands of Dr. Lyon, a
+clergyman who had been in charge of Swift for some years.  The letters
+passed to a man named Wilkes, who sold them for publication.  They
+accordingly appeared in 1766 in the tenth volume of Dr. Hawkesworth’s
+quarto edition of Swift’s works; but the editor made many changes in the
+text, including a suppression of most of the “little language.”  The
+publishers, however, fortunately for us, were public-spirited enough to
+give the manuscripts (with one exception) to the British Museum, where,
+after many years, they were examined by John Forster, who printed in his
+unfinished _Life of Swift_ numerous passages from the originals, showing
+the manner in which the text had been tampered with by Hawkesworth.
+Swift himself, too, in his later years, obliterated many words and
+sentences in the letters, and Forster was able to restore not a few of
+these omissions.  His zeal, however, sometimes led him to make guesses at
+words which are quite undecipherable.  Besides Forster’s work, I have had
+the benefit of the careful collation made by Mr. Ryland for his edition
+of 1897.  Where these authorities differ I have usually found myself in
+agreement with Mr. Ryland, but I have felt justified in accepting some of
+Forster’s readings which were rejected by him as uncertain; and the
+examination of the manuscripts has enabled me to make some additions and
+corrections of my own.  Swift’s writing is extremely small, and abounds
+in abbreviations.  The difficulty of arriving at the true reading is
+therefore considerable, apart from the erasures.
+
+The remainder of the _Journal_, consisting of the first forty letters,
+was published in 1768 by Deane Swift, Dr. Swift’s second cousin.  These
+letters had been given to Mrs. Whiteway in 1788, and by her to her
+son-in-law, Deane Swift.  The originals have been lost, with the
+exception of the first, which, by some accident, is in the British
+Museum; but it is evident that Deane Swift took even greater liberties
+with the text than Hawkesworth.  He substituted for “Ppt” the word
+“Stella,” a name which Swift seems not to have used until some years
+later; he adopted the name “Presto” for Swift, and in other ways tried to
+give a greater literary finish to the letters.  The whole of the
+correspondence was first brought together, under the title of the
+_Journal to Stella_, in Sheridan’s edition of 1784.
+
+Previous editions of the _Journal_ have been but slightly annotated.
+Swift’s letters abound with allusions to people of all classes with whom
+he came in contact in London, and to others known to Esther Johnson in
+Ireland; and a large proportion of these persons have been passed over in
+discreet silence by Sir Walter Scott and others.  The task of the
+annotator has, of course, been made easier of late years by the
+publication of contemporary journals and letters, and of useful works of
+reference dealing with Parliament, the Army, the Church, the Civil
+Service, and the like, besides the invaluable _Dictionary of National
+Biography_.  I have also been assisted by a collection of MS. notes
+kindly placed at my disposal by Mr. Thomas Seccombe.  I have aimed at
+brevity and relevance, but it is hoped that the reader will find all the
+information that is necessary.  Here and there a name has baffled
+research, but I have been able to give definite particulars of a very
+large number of people—noblemen and ladies in society in London or
+Dublin, Members of Parliament, doctors, clergymen, Government officials,
+and others who have hitherto been but names to the reader of the
+_Journal_.  Where there is no reference at the foot of the page, the note
+upon any person alluded to can readily be found by consulting the Index.
+I have corrected a good many errors in the older notes, but in dealing
+with so large a number of persons, some of whom it is difficult to
+identify, I cannot hope that I myself have escaped pitfalls.
+
+                                                                  G. A. A.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+WHEN Swift began to write the letters known as the _Journal to Stella_,
+he was forty-two years of age, and Esther Johnson twenty-nine.  Perhaps
+the most useful introduction to the correspondence will be a brief
+setting forth of what is known of their friendship from Stella’s
+childhood, the more specially as the question has been obscured by many
+assertions and theories resting on a very slender basis of fact.
+
+Jonathan Swift, born in 1667 after his father’s death, was educated by
+his uncle Godwin, and after a not very successful career at Trinity
+College, Dublin, went to stay with his mother, Abigail Erick, at
+Leicester.  Mrs. Swift feared that her son would fall in love with a girl
+named Betty Jones, but, as Swift told a friend, he had had experience
+enough “not to think of marriage till I settle my fortune in the world,
+which I am sure will not be in some years; and even then, I am so hard to
+please that I suppose I shall put it off to the other world.”  Soon
+afterwards an opening for Swift presented itself.  Sir William Temple,
+now living in retirement at Moor Park, near Farnham, had been, like his
+father, Master of the Irish Rolls, and had thus become acquainted with
+Swift’s uncle Godwin.  Moreover, Lady Temple was related to Mrs. Swift,
+as Lord Orrery tells us.  Thanks to these facts, the application to Sir
+William Temple was successful, and Swift went to live at Moor Park before
+the end of 1689.  There he read to Temple, wrote for him, and kept his
+accounts, and growing into confidence with his employer, “was often
+trusted with matters of great importance.”  The story—afterwards improved
+upon by Lord Macaulay—that Swift received only £20 and his board, and was
+not allowed to sit at table with his master, is wholly untrustworthy.
+Within three years of their first intercourse, Temple had introduced his
+secretary to William the Third, and sent him to London to urge the King
+to consent to a bill for triennial Parliaments.
+
+When Swift took up his residence at Moor Park he found there a little
+girl of eight, daughter of a merchant named Edward Johnson, who had died
+young.  Swift says that Esther Johnson was born on March 18, 1681; in the
+parish register of Richmond, {0a} which shows that she was baptized on
+March 20, 1680–81, her name is given as Hester; but she signed her will
+“Esther,” the name by which she was always known.  Swift says, “Her
+father was a younger brother of a good family in Nottinghamshire, her
+mother of a lower degree; and indeed she had little to boast in her
+birth.”  Mrs. Johnson had two children, Esther and Ann, and lived at Moor
+Park as companion to Lady Giffard, Temple’s widowed sister.  Another
+member of the household, afterwards to be Esther’s constant companion,
+was Rebecca Dingley, a relative of the Temple family. {0b}  She was a
+year or two older than Swift.
+
+The lonely young man of twenty-two was both playfellow and teacher of the
+delicate child of eight.  How he taught her to write has been charmingly
+brought before us in the painting exhibited by Miss Dicksee at the Royal
+Academy a few years ago; he advised her what books to read, and
+instructed her, as he says, “in the principles of honour and virtue, from
+which she never swerved in any one action or moment of her life.”
+
+By 1694 Swift had grown tired of his position, and finding that Temple,
+who valued his services, was slow in finding him preferment, he left Moor
+Park in order to carry out his resolve to go into the Church.  He was
+ordained, and obtained the prebend of Kilroot, near Belfast, where he
+carried on a flirtation with a Miss Waring, whom he called Varina.  But
+in May 1696 Temple made proposals which induced Swift to return to Moor
+Park, where he was employed in preparing Temple’s memoirs and
+correspondence for publication, and in supporting the side taken by
+Temple in the Letters of Phalaris controversy by writing _The Battle of
+the Books_, which was, however, not published until 1704.  On his return
+to Temple’s house, Swift found his old playmate grown from a sickly child
+into a girl of fifteen, in perfect health.  She came, he says, to be
+“looked upon as one of the most beautiful, graceful, and agreeable young
+women in London, only a little too fat.  Her hair was blacker than a
+raven, and every feature of her face in perfection.”
+
+On his death in January 1699, Temple left a will, {0c} dated 1694,
+directing the payment of £20 each, with half a year’s wages, to Bridget
+Johnson “and all my other servants”; and leaving a lease of some land in
+Monistown, County Wicklow, to Esther Johnson, “servant to my sister
+Giffard.”  By a codicil of February 1698, Temple left £100 to “Mr.
+Jonathan Swift, now living with me.”  It may be added that by her will of
+1722, proved in the following year, Lady Giffard gave £20 to Mrs.
+Moss—Mrs. Bridget Johnson, who had married Richard Mose or Moss, Lady
+Giffard’s steward.  The will proceeds: “To Mrs. Hester (_sic_) Johnson I
+give £10, with the £100 I put into the Exchequer for her life and my own,
+and declare the £100 to be hers which I am told is there in my name upon
+the survivorship, and for which she has constantly sent over her
+certificate and received the interest.  I give her besides my two little
+silver candlesticks.”
+
+Temple left in Swift’s hands the task of publishing his posthumous works,
+a duty which afterwards led to a quarrel with Lady Giffard and other
+members of the family.  Many years later Swift told Lord Palmerston that
+he stopped at Moor Park solely for the benefit of Temple’s conversation
+and advice, and the opportunity of pursuing his studies.  At Temple’s
+death he was “as far to seek as ever.”  In the summer of 1699, however,
+he was offered and accepted the post of secretary and chaplain to the
+Earl of Berkeley, one of the Lords Justices, but when he reached Ireland
+he found that the secretaryship had been given to another.  He soon,
+however, obtained the living of Laracor, Agher, and Rathbeggan, and the
+prebend of Dunlavin in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin.  The total value
+of these preferments was about £230 a year, an income which Miss Waring
+seems to have thought enough to justify him in marrying.  Swift’s reply
+to the lady whom he had “singled out at first from the rest of women”
+could only have been written with the intention of breaking off the
+connection, and accordingly we hear no more of poor Varina.
+
+At Laracor, a mile or two from Trim, and twenty miles from Dublin, Swift
+ministered to a congregation of about fifteen persons, and had abundant
+leisure for cultivating his garden, making a canal (after the Dutch
+fashion of Moor Park), planting willows, and rebuilding the vicarage.  As
+chaplain to Lord Berkeley, he spent much of his time in Dublin.  He was
+on intimate terms with Lady Berkeley and her daughters, one of whom is
+best known by her married name of Lady Betty Germaine; and through them
+he had access to the fashionable society of Dublin.  When Lord Berkeley
+returned to England in April 1701, Swift, after taking his Doctor’s
+degree at Dublin, went with him, and soon afterwards published,
+anonymously, a political pamphlet, _A Discourse on the Contests and
+Dissentions in Athens and Rome_.  When he returned to Ireland in
+September he was accompanied by Stella—to give Esther Johnson the name by
+which she is best known—and her friend Mrs. Dingley.  Stella’s fortune
+was about £1500, and the property Temple had left her was in County
+Wicklow.  Swift, very much for his “own satisfaction, who had few friends
+or acquaintance in Ireland,” persuaded Stella—now twenty years old—that
+living was cheaper there than in England, and that a better return was
+obtainable on money.  The ladies took his advice, and made Ireland their
+home.  At first they felt themselves strangers in Dublin; “the adventure
+looked so like a frolic,” Swift says, “the censure held for some time as
+if there were a secret history in such a removal: which however soon blew
+off by her excellent conduct.”  Swift took every step that was possible
+to avoid scandal.  When he was away, the ladies occupied his rooms; when
+he returned, they went into their own lodgings.  When he was absent, they
+often stopped at the vicarage at Laracor, but if he were there, they
+moved to Trim, where they visited the vicar, Dr. Raymond, or lived in
+lodgings in the town or neighbourhood.  Swift was never with Stella
+except in the presence of a third person, and in 1726 he said that he had
+not seen her in a morning “these dozen years, except once or twice in a
+journey.”
+
+During a visit to England in the winter of 1703–4 we find Swift in
+correspondence with the Rev. William Tisdall, a Dublin incumbent whom he
+had formerly known at Belfast.  Tisdall was on friendly terms with Stella
+and Mrs. Dingley, and Swift sent messages to them through him.  “Pray put
+them upon reading,” he wrote, “and be always teaching something to Mrs.
+Johnson, because she is good at comprehending, remembering and
+retaining.”  But the correspondence soon took a different turn.  Tisdall
+paid his addresses to Stella, and charged Swift with opposing his suit.
+Tisdall’s letters are missing, but Swift’s reply of April 20, 1704, puts
+things sufficiently clearly.  “My conjecture is,” he says, “that you
+think I obstructed your inclinations to please my own, and that my
+intentions were the same with yours.  In answer to all which I will, upon
+my conscience and honour, tell you the naked truth.  First, I think I
+have said to you before that, if my fortunes and humour served me to
+think of that state, I should certainly, among all persons upon earth,
+make your choice; because I never saw that person whose conversation I
+entirely valued but hers; this was the utmost I ever gave way to.  And
+secondly, I must assure you sincerely that this regard of mine never once
+entered into my head to be an impediment to you.”  He had thought Tisdall
+not rich enough to marry; “but the objection of your fortune being
+removed, I declare I have no other; nor shall any consideration of my own
+misfortune, in losing so good a friend and companion as her, prevail on
+me, against her interest and settlement in the world, since it is held so
+necessary and convenient a thing for ladies to marry, and that time takes
+off from the lustre of virgins in all other eyes but mine.  I appeal to
+my letters to herself whether I was your friend or not in the whole
+concern, though the part I designed to act in it was purely passive.”  He
+had even thought “it could not be decently broken,” without disadvantage
+to the lady’s credit, since he supposed it was known to the town; and he
+had always spoken of her in a manner far from discouraging.  Though he
+knew many ladies of rank, he had “nowhere met with an humour, a wit, or
+conversation so agreeable, a better portion of good sense, or a truer
+judgment of men or things.”  He envied Tisdall his prudence and temper,
+and love of peace and settlement, “the reverse of which has been the
+great uneasiness of my life, and is likely to continue so.”
+
+This letter has been quoted at some length because of its great
+importance.  It is obviously capable of various interpretations, and
+some, like Dr. Johnson, have concluded that Swift was resolved to keep
+Stella in his power, and therefore prevented an advantageous match by
+making unreasonable demands.  I cannot see any ground for this
+interpretation, though it is probable that Tisdall’s appearance as a
+suitor was sufficiently annoying.  There is no evidence that Stella
+viewed Tisdall’s proposal with any favour, unless it can be held to be
+furnished by Swift’s belief that the town thought—rightly or wrongly—that
+there was an engagement.  In any case, there could be no mistake in
+future with regard to Swift’s attitude towards Stella.  She was dearer to
+him than anyone else, and his feeling for her would not change, but for
+marriage he had neither fortune nor humour.  Tisdall consoled himself by
+marrying another lady two years afterwards; and though for a long time
+Swift entertained for him feelings of dislike, in later life their
+relations improved, and Tisdall was one of the witnesses to Swift’s will.
+
+The _Tale of a Tub_ was published in 1704, and Swift was soon in constant
+intercourse with Addison and the other wits.  While he was in England in
+1705, Stella and Mrs. Dingley made a short visit to London.  This and a
+similar visit in 1708 are the only occasions on which Stella is known to
+have left Ireland after taking up her residence in that country.  Swift’s
+influence over women was always very striking.  Most of the toasts of the
+day were his friends, and he insisted that any lady of wit and quality
+who desired his acquaintance should make the first advances.  This, he
+says—writing in 1730—had been an established rule for over twenty years.
+In 1708 a dispute on this question with one toast, Mrs. Long, was
+referred for settlement to Ginckel Vanhomrigh, the son of the house where
+it was proposed that the meeting should take place; and by the
+decision—which was in Swift’s favour—“Mrs. Vanhomrigh and her fair
+daughter Hessy” were forbidden to aid Mrs. Long in her disobedience for
+the future.  This is the first that we hear of Hester or Esther
+Vanhomrigh, who was afterwards to play so marked a part in the story of
+Swift’s life.  Born on February 14, 1690, she was now eighteen.  Her
+father, Bartholomew Vanhomrigh, a Dublin merchant of Dutch origin, had
+died in 1703, leaving his wife a fortune of some sixteen thousand pounds.
+On the income from this money Mrs. Vanhomrigh, with her two daughters,
+Hester and Mary, were able to mix in fashionable society in London.
+Swift was introduced to them by Sir Andrew Fountaine early in 1708, but
+evidently Stella did not make their acquaintance, nor indeed hear much,
+if anything, of them until the time of the _Journal_.
+
+Swift’s visit to London in 1707–9 had for its object the obtaining for
+the Irish Church of the surrender by the Crown of the First-Fruits and
+Twentieths, which brought in about £2500 a year.  Nothing came of Swift’s
+interviews with the Whig statesmen, and after many disappointments he
+returned to Laracor (June 1709), and conversed with none but Stella and
+her card-playing friends, and Addison, now secretary to Lord Wharton.
+{0d}  Next year came the fall of the Whigs, and a request to Swift from
+the Irish bishops that he would renew the application for the
+First-Fruits, in the hope that there would be greater success with the
+Tories.  Swift reached London in September 1710, and began the series of
+letters, giving details of the events of each day, which now form the
+_Journal to Stella_.  “I will write something every day to MD,” he says,
+“and make it a sort of journal; and when it is full I will send it,
+whether MD writes or no; and so that will be pretty; and I shall always
+be in conversation with MD, and MD with Presto.”  It is interesting to
+note that by way of caution these letters were usually addressed to Mrs.
+Dingley, and not to Stella.
+
+The story of Swift’s growing intimacy with the Tory leaders, of the
+success of his mission, of the increasing coolness towards older
+acquaintances, and of his services to the Government, can best be read in
+the _Journal_ itself.  In the meantime the intimacy with the Vanhomrighs
+grew rapidly.  They were near neighbours of Swift’s, and in a few weeks
+after his arrival in town we find frequent allusions to the dinners at
+their house (where he kept his best gown and periwig), sometimes with the
+explanation that he went there “out of mere listlessness,” or because it
+was wet, or because another engagement had broken down.  Only thrice does
+he mention the “eldest daughter”: once on her birthday; once on the
+occasion of a trick played him, when he received a message that she was
+suddenly very ill (“I rattled off the daughter”); and once to state that
+she was come of age, and was going to Ireland to look after her fortune.
+There is evidence that “Miss Essy,” or Vanessa, to give her the name by
+which she will always be known, was in correspondence with Swift in July
+1710—while he was still in Ireland—and in the spring of 1711; {0e} and
+early in 1711 Stella seems to have expressed surprise at Swift’s intimacy
+with the family, for in February he replied, “You say they are of no
+consequence; why, they keep as good female company as I do male; I see
+all the drabs of quality at this end of the town with them.”  In the
+autumn Swift seems to have thought that Vanessa was keeping company with
+a certain Hatton, but Mrs. Long—possibly meaning to give him a warning
+hint—remarked that if this were so “she is not the girl I took her for;
+but to me she seems melancholy.”
+
+In 1712 occasional letters took the place of the daily journal to “MD,”
+but there is no change in the affectionate style in which Swift wrote.
+In the spring he had a long illness, which affected him, indeed,
+throughout the year.  Other reasons which he gives for the falling off in
+his correspondence are his numerous business engagements, and the hope of
+being able to send some good news of an appointment for himself.  There
+is only one letter to Stella between July 19 and September 15, and Dr.
+Birkbeck Hill argues that the poem “Cadenus and Vanessa” was composed at
+that time. {0f}  If this be so, it must have been altered next year,
+because it was not until 1713 that Swift was made a Dean.  Writing on
+April 19, 1726, Swift said that the poem “was written at Windsor near
+fourteen years ago, and dated: it was a task performed on a frolic among
+some ladies, and she it was addressed to died some time ago in Dublin,
+and on her death the copy shewn by her executor.”  Several copies were in
+circulation, and he was indifferent what was done with it; it was “only a
+cavalier business,” and if those who would not give allowances were
+malicious, it was only what he had long expected.
+
+From this letter it would appear that this remarkable poem was written in
+the summer of 1712; whereas the title-page of the pamphlet says it was
+“written at Windsor, 1713.”  Swift visited Windsor in both years, but he
+had more leisure in 1712, and we know that Vanessa was also at Windsor in
+that year.  In that year, too, he was forty-four, the age mentioned in
+the poem.  Neither Swift nor Vanessa forgot this intercourse: years
+afterwards Swift wrote to her, “Go over the scenes of Windsor. . . .  Cad
+thinks often of these”; and again, “Remember the indisposition at
+Windsor.”  We know that this poem was revised in 1719, when in all
+probability Swift added the lines to which most exception can be taken.
+Cadenus was to be Vanessa’s instructor:—
+
+    “His conduct might have made him styled
+    A father, and the nymph his child.”
+
+He had “grown old in politics and wit,” and “in every scene had kept his
+heart,” so that he now “understood not what was love.”  But he had
+written much, and Vanessa admired his wit.  Cadenus found that her
+thoughts wandered—
+
+    “Though she seemed to listen more
+    To all he spoke than e’er before.”
+
+When she confessed her love, he was filled with “shame, disappointment,
+guilt, surprise.”  He had aimed only at cultivating the mind, and had
+hardly known whether she was young or old.  But he was flattered, and
+though he could not give her love, he offered her friendship, “with
+gratitude, respect, esteem.”  Vanessa took him at his word, and said she
+would now be tutor, though he was not apt to learn:—
+
+    “But what success Vanessa met
+    Is to the world a secret yet.
+    Whether the nymph to please her swain
+    Talks in a high romantic strain;
+    Or whether he at last descends
+    To act with less seraphic ends;
+    Or, to compound the business, whether
+    They temper love and books together,
+    Must never to mankind be told,
+    Nor shall the conscious Muse unfold.”
+
+Such is the poem as we now have it, written, it must be remembered, for
+Vanessa’s private perusal.  It is to be regretted, for her own sake, that
+she did not destroy it.
+
+Swift received the reward of his services to the Government—the Deanery
+of St. Patrick’s, Dublin—in April 1713.  Disappointed at what he regarded
+as exile, he left London in June.  Vanessa immediately began to send him
+letters which brought home to him the extent of her passion; and she
+hinted at jealousy in the words, “If you are very happy, it is
+ill-natured of you not to tell me so, except ’tis what is inconsistent
+with my own.”  In his reply Swift dwelt upon the dreariness of his
+surroundings at Laracor, and reminded her that he had said he would
+endeavour to forget everything in England, and would write as seldom as
+he could.
+
+Swift was back again in the political strife in London in September,
+taking Oxford’s part in the quarrel between that statesman and
+Bolingbroke.  On the fall of the Tories at the death of Queen Anne, he
+saw that all was over, and retired to Ireland, not to return again for
+twelve years.  In the meantime the intimacy with Vanessa had been
+renewed.  Her mother had died, leaving debts, and she pressed Swift for
+advice in the management of her affairs.  When she suggested coming to
+Ireland, where she had property, he told her that if she took this step
+he would “see her very seldom.”  However, she took up her abode at
+Celbridge, only a few miles from Dublin.  Swift gave her many cautions,
+out of “the perfect esteem and friendship” he felt for her, but he often
+visited her.  She was dissatisfied, however, begging him to speak kindly,
+and at least to counterfeit his former indulgent friendship.  “What can
+be wrong,” she wrote, “in seeing and advising an unhappy young woman?
+You cannot but know that your frowns make my life unsupportable.”
+Sometimes he treated the matter lightly; sometimes he showed annoyance;
+sometimes he assured her of his esteem and love, but urged her not to
+make herself or him “unhappy by imaginations.”  He was uniformly
+unsuccessful in stopping Vanessa’s importunity.  He endeavoured, she
+said, by severities to force her from him; she knew she was the cause of
+uneasy reflections to him; but nothing would lessen her “inexpressible
+passion.”
+
+Unfortunately he failed—partly no doubt from mistaken considerations of
+kindness, partly because he shrank from losing her affection—to take
+effective steps to put an end to Vanessa’s hopes.  It would have been
+better if he had unhesitatingly made it clear to her that he could not
+return her passion, and that if she could not be satisfied with
+friendship the intimacy must cease.  To quote Sir Henry Craik, “The
+friendship had begun in literary guidance: it was strengthened by
+flattery: it lived on a cold and almost stern repression, fed by
+confidences as to literary schemes, and by occasional literary
+compliments: but it never came to have a real hold over Swift’s heart.”
+
+With 1716 we come to the alleged marriage with Stella.  In 1752, seven
+years after Swift’s death, Lord Orrery, in his _Remarks_ on Swift, said
+that Stella was “the concealed, but undoubted, wife of Dr. Swift. . . .
+If my informations are right, she was married to Dr. Swift in the year
+1716, by Dr. Ashe, then Bishop of Clogher.”  Ten years earlier, in 1742,
+in a letter to Deane Swift which I have not seen quoted before, Orrery
+spoke of the advantage of a wife to a man in his declining years; “nor
+had the Dean felt a blow, or wanted a companion, had he been married, or,
+in other words, had Stella lived.”  What this means is not at all clear.
+In 1754, Dr. Delany, an old friend of Swift’s, wrote, in comment upon
+Orrery’s _Remarks_, “Your account of his marriage is, I am satisfied,
+true.”  In 1789, George Monck Berkeley, in his _Literary Relics_, said
+that Swift and Stella were married by Dr. Ashe, “who himself related the
+circumstances to Bishop Berkeley, by whose relict the story was
+communicated to me.”  Dr. Ashe cannot have told Bishop Berkeley by word
+of mouth, because Ashe died in 1717, the year after the supposed
+marriage, and Berkeley was then still abroad.  But Berkeley was at the
+time tutor to Ashe’s son, and may therefore have been informed by letter,
+though it is difficult to believe that Ashe would write about such a
+secret so soon after the event.  Thomas Sheridan, on information received
+from his father, Dr. Sheridan, Swift’s friend, accepted the story of the
+marriage in his book (1784), adding particulars which are of very
+doubtful authenticity; and Johnson, in his _Lives of the Poets_, says
+that Dr. Madden told him that Stella had related her “melancholy story”
+to Dr. Sheridan before her death.  On the other hand, Dr. Lyon, Swift’s
+attendant in his later years, disbelieved the story of the marriage,
+which was, he said, “founded only on hearsay”; and Mrs. Dingley “laughed
+at it as an idle tale,” founded on suspicion.
+
+Sir Henry Craik is satisfied with the evidence for the marriage.  Mr.
+Leslie Stephen is of opinion that it is inconclusive, and Forster could
+find no evidence that is at all reasonably sufficient; while Mr. Stanley
+Lane-Poole, Mr. Churton Collins, and others are strongly of opinion that
+no such marriage ever took place.  A full discussion of the evidence
+would involve the consideration of the reliability of the witnesses, and
+the probability of their having authentic information, and would be out
+of place here.  My own opinion is that the evidence for the marriage is
+very far from convincing, and this view seems to be confirmed by all that
+we know from his own letters of Swift’s relations with Stella.  It has
+been suggested that she was pained by reports of Swift’s intercourse with
+Vanessa, and felt that his feelings towards herself were growing colder;
+but this is surmise, and no satisfactory explanation has been given to
+account for a form of marriage being gone through after so many years of
+the closest friendship.  There is no reason to suppose that there was at
+the time any gossip in circulation about Stella, and if her reputation
+was in question, a marriage of which the secret was carefully kept would
+obviously be of no benefit to her.  Moreover, we are told that there was
+no change in their mode of life; if they were married, what reason could
+there be for keeping it a secret, or for denying themselves the closer
+relationship of marriage?  The only possible benefit to Stella was that
+Swift would be prevented marrying anyone else.  It is impossible, of
+course, to disprove a marriage which we are told was secretly performed,
+without banns or licence or witnesses; but we may reasonably require
+strong evidence for so startling a step.  If we reject the tale, the
+story of Swift’s connection with Stella is at least intelligible; while
+the acceptance of this marriage introduces many puzzling circumstances,
+and makes it necessary to believe that during the remainder of Stella’s
+life Swift repeatedly spoke of his wife as a friend, and of himself as
+one who had never married. {0g}  What right have we to put aside Swift’s
+plain and repeated statements?  Moreover, his attitude towards Vanessa
+for the remaining years of her life becomes much more culpable if we are
+to believe that he had given Stella the claim of a wife upon him. {0h}
+
+From 1719 onwards we have a series of poems to Stella, written chiefly in
+celebration of her birthday.  She was now thirty-eight (Swift says,
+“Thirty-four—we shan’t dispute a year or more”), and the verses abound in
+laughing allusions to her advancing years and wasting form.  Hers was “an
+angel’s face a little cracked,” but all men would crowd to her door when
+she was fourscore.  His verses to her had always been
+
+    “Without one word of Cupid’s darts,
+    Of killing eyes, or bleeding hearts;
+    With friendship and esteem possessed,
+    I ne’er admitted Love a guest.”
+
+Her only fault was that she could not bear the lightest touch of blame.
+Her wit and sense, her loving care in illness—to which he owed that fact
+that he was alive to say it—made her the “best pattern of true friends.”
+She replied, in lines written on Swift’s birthday in 1721, that she was
+his pupil and humble friend.  He had trained her judgment and refined her
+fancy and taste:—
+
+    “You taught how I might youth prolong
+    By knowing what was right and wrong;
+    How from my heart to bring supplies
+    Of lustre to my fading eyes;
+    How soon a beauteous mind repairs
+    The loss of changed or falling hairs;
+    How wit and virtue from within
+    Send out a smoothness o’er the skin
+    Your lectures could my fancy fix,
+    And I can please at thirty-six.”
+
+In 1723 Vanessa is said to have written to Stella or to Swift—there are
+discrepancies in the versions given by Sheridan and Lord Orrery, both of
+whom are unreliable—asking whether the report that they were married was
+true.  Swift, we are told, rode to Celbridge, threw down Vanessa’s letter
+in a great rage, and left without speaking a word. {0i}  Vanessa, whose
+health had been failing for some time, died shortly afterwards, having
+cancelled a will in Swift’s favour.  She left “Cadenus and Vanessa” for
+publication, and when someone said that she must have been a remarkable
+woman to inspire such a poem, Stella replied that it was well known that
+the Dean could write finely upon a broomstick.
+
+Soon after this tragedy Swift became engrossed in the Irish agitation
+which led to the publication of the _Drapier’s Letters_, and in 1726 he
+paid a long-deferred visit to London, taking with him the manuscript of
+_Gulliver’s Travels_.  While in England he was harassed by bad news of
+Stella, who had been in continued ill-health for some years.  His letters
+to friends in Dublin show how greatly he suffered.  To the Rev. John
+Worrall he wrote, in a letter which he begged him to burn, “What you tell
+me of Mrs. Johnson I have long expected with great oppression and
+heaviness of heart.  We have been perfect friends these thirty-five
+years.  Upon my advice they both came to Ireland, and have been ever
+since my constant companions; and the remainder of my life will be a very
+melancholy scene, when one of them is gone, whom I most esteemed, upon
+the score of every good quality that can possibly recommend a human
+creature.”  He would not for the world be present at her death: “I should
+be a trouble to her, and a torment to myself.”  If Stella came to Dublin,
+he begged that she might be lodged in some airy, healthy part, and not in
+the Deanery, where too it would be improper for her to die.  “There is
+not a greater folly,” he thinks, “than to contract too great and intimate
+a friendship, which must always leave the survivor miserable.”  To Dr.
+Stopford he wrote in similar terms of the “younger of the two” “oldest
+and dearest friends I have in the world.”  “This was a person of my own
+rearing and instructing from childhood, who excelled in every good
+quality that can possibly accomplish a human creature. . . .  I know not
+what I am saying; but believe me that violent friendship is much more
+lasting and as much engaging as violent love.”  To Dr. Sheridan he said,
+“I look upon this to be the greatest event that can ever happen to me;
+but all my preparation will not suffice to make me bear it like a
+philosopher nor altogether like a Christian.  There hath been the most
+intimate friendship between us from our childhood, and the greatest merit
+on her side that ever was in one human creature towards another.” {0j}
+Pope alludes in a letter to Sheridan to the illness of Swift’s
+“particular friend,” but with the exception of another reference by Pope,
+and of a curiously flippant remark by Bolingbroke, the subject is nowhere
+mentioned in Swift’s correspondence with his literary and fashionable
+friends in London.
+
+Swift crossed to Ireland in August, fearing the worst; but Stella
+rallied, and in the spring of 1727 he returned to London.  In August,
+however, there came alarming news, when Swift was himself suffering from
+giddiness and deafness.  To Dr. Sheridan he wrote that the last act of
+life was always a tragedy at best: “it is a bitter aggravation to have
+one’s best friend go before one.”  Life was indifferent to him; if he
+recovered from his disorder it would only be to feel the loss of “that
+person for whose sake only life was worth preserving.  I brought both
+those friends over that we might be happy together as long as God should
+please; the knot is broken, and the remaining person you know has ill
+answered the end; and the other, who is now to be lost, is all that was
+valuable.”  To Worrall he again wrote (in Latin) that Stella ought not to
+be lodged at the Deanery; he had enemies who would place a bad
+interpretation upon it if she died there.
+
+Swift left London for Dublin in September; he was detained some days at
+Holyhead by stress of weather, and in the private journal which he kept
+during that time he speaks of the suspense he was in about his “dearest
+friend.” {0k}  In December Stella made a will—signed “Esther Johnson,
+spinster”—disposing of her property in the manner Swift had suggested.
+Her allusions to Swift are incompatible with any such feeling of
+resentment as is suggested by Sheridan.  She died on January 28, 1728.
+Swift could not bear to be present, but on the night of her death he
+began to write his very interesting _Character of Mrs. Johnson_, from
+which passages have already been quoted.  He there calls her “the truest,
+most virtuous and valuable friend that I, or perhaps any other person,
+was ever blessed with.”  Combined with excellent gifts of the mind, “she
+had a gracefulness, somewhat more than human, in every motion, word, and
+action.  Never was so happy a conjunction of civility, freedom, easiness,
+and sincerity.”  Everyone treated her with marked respect, yet everyone
+was at ease in her society.  She preserved her wit, judgment, and
+vivacity to the last, but often complained of her memory.  She chose men
+rather than women for her companions, “the usual topic of ladies’
+discourse being such as she had little knowledge of and less relish.”
+“Honour, truth, liberality, good nature, and modesty were the virtues she
+chiefly possessed, and most valued in her acquaintance.”  In some Prayers
+used by Swift during her last sickness, he begged for pity for “the
+mournful friends of Thy distressed servant, who sink under the weight of
+her present condition, and the fear of losing the most valuable of our
+friends.”  He was too ill to be present at the funeral at St. Patrick’s.
+Afterwards, we are told, a lock of her hair was found in his desk,
+wrapped in a paper bearing the words, “Only a woman’s hair.”
+
+Swift continued to produce pamphlets manifesting growing misanthropy,
+though he showed many kindnesses to people who stood in need of help.  He
+seems to have given Mrs. Dingley fifty guineas a year, pretending that it
+came from a fund for which he was trustee.  The mental decay which he had
+always feared—“I shall be like that tree,” he once said, “I shall die at
+the top”—became marked about 1738.  Paralysis was followed by aphasia,
+and after acute pain, followed by a long period of apathy, death relieved
+him in October 1745.  He was buried by Stella’s side, in accordance with
+his wishes.  The bulk of his fortune was left to found a hospital for
+idiots and lunatics.
+
+There has been much rather fruitless discussion respecting the reason or
+reasons why Swift did not marry Stella; for if there was any marriage, it
+was nothing more than a form.  Some have supposed that Swift resolved to
+remain unmarried because the insanity of an uncle and the fits and
+giddiness to which he was always subject led him to fear insanity in his
+own case.  Others, looking rather to physical causes, have dwelt upon his
+coldness of temperament and indisposition to love; upon the repugnance he
+often showed towards marriage, and the tone of some of the verses on the
+subject written in his later years.  Others, again, have found a cause in
+his parsimonious habits, in his dread of poverty, the effects of which he
+had himself felt, and in the smallness of his income, at least until he
+was middle-aged. {0l}  It may well be that one or all of these things
+influenced Swift’s action.  We cannot say more.  He himself, as we have
+seen, said, as early as 1704, that if his humour and means had permitted
+him to think of marriage, his choice would have been Stella.  Perhaps,
+however, there is not much mystery in the matter.  Swift seems to have
+been wanting in passion; probably he was satisfied with the affection
+which Stella gave him, and did not wish for more.  Such an attachment as
+his usually results in marriage, but not necessarily.  It is not
+sufficiently remembered that the affection began in Stella’s childhood.
+They were “perfect friends” for nearly forty years, and her advancing
+years in no way lessened his love, which was independent of beauty.
+Whether Stella was satisfied, who shall say?  Mrs. Oliphant thought that
+few women would be disposed to pity Stella, or think her life one of
+blight or injury.  Mr. Leslie Stephen says, “She might and probably did
+regard his friendship as a full equivalent for the sacrifice. . . .  Is
+it better to be the most intimate friend of a man of genius or the wife
+of a commonplace Tisdall?”  Whatever we may surmise, there is nothing to
+prove that she was disappointed.  She was the one star which brightened
+Swift’s storm-tossed course; it is well that she was spared seeing the
+wreck at the end.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+The _Journal to Stella_ is interesting from many points of view: for its
+bearing upon Swift’s relations with Stella and upon his own character;
+for the light which it throws upon the history of the time and upon
+prominent men of the day; and for the illustrations it contains of the
+social life of people of various classes in London and elsewhere.  The
+fact that it was written without any thought of publication is one of its
+greatest attractions.  Swift jotted down his opinions, his hopes, his
+disappointments, without thought of their being seen by anybody but his
+correspondents.  The letters are transparently natural.  It has been said
+more than once that the _Journal_, by the nature of the case, contains no
+full-length portraits, and hardly any sketches.  Swift mentions the
+people he met, but rarely stops to draw a picture of them.  But though
+this is true, the casual remarks which he makes often give a vivid
+impression of what he thought of the person of whom he is speaking, and
+in many cases those few words form a chief part of our general estimate
+of the man.  There are but few people of note at the time who are not
+mentioned in these pages.  We see Queen Anne holding a Drawing-room in
+her bedroom: “she looked at us round with her fan in her mouth, and once
+a minute said about three words to some that were nearest her.”  We see
+Harley, afterwards the Earl of Oxford, “a pure trifler,” who was always
+putting off important business; Bolingbroke, “a thorough rake”; the
+prudent Lord Dartmouth, the other Secretary of State, from whom Swift
+could never “work out a dinner.”  There is Marlborough, “covetous as
+Hell, and ambitious as the prince of it,” yet a great general and unduly
+pressed by the Tories; and the volatile Earl of Peterborough, “above
+fifty, and as active as one of five-and-twenty”—“the ramblingest lying
+rogue on earth.”  We meet poor Congreve, nearly blind, and in fear of
+losing his commissionership; the kindly Arbuthnot, the Queen’s physician;
+Addison, whom Swift met more and more rarely, busy with the preparation
+and production of _Cato_; Steele, careless as ever, neglecting important
+appointments, and “governed by his wife most abominably”; Prior, poet and
+diplomatist, with a “lean carcass”; and young Berkeley of Trinity
+College, Dublin, “a very ingenious man and great philosopher,” whom Swift
+determined to favour as much as he could.  Mrs. Masham, the Duchess of
+Somerset, the Duchess of Shrewsbury, the Duchess of Hamilton, Lady Betty
+Germaine, and many other ladies appear with more or less distinctness;
+besides a host of people of less note, of whom we often know little but
+what Swift tells us.
+
+Swift throws much light, too, on the daily life of his time.  The bellman
+on his nightly rounds, calling “Paaast twelvvve o’clock”; the dinner at
+three, or at the latest, four; the meetings at coffee-houses; the
+book-sales; the visit to the London sights—the lions at the Tower,
+Bedlam, the tombs in Westminster Abbey, and the puppet-show; the terrible
+Mohocks, of whom Swift stood in so much fear; the polite “howdees” sent
+to friends by footmen; these and more are all described in the _Journal_.
+We read of curious habits and practices of fashionable ladies; of the
+snuff used by Mrs. Dingley and others; of the jokes—“bites,” puns, and
+the like—indulged in by polite persons.  When Swift lodged at Chelsea, he
+reached London either by boat, or by coach,—which was sometimes full when
+he wanted it,—or by walking across the “Five Fields,” not without fear of
+robbers at night.  The going to or from Ireland was a serious matter;
+after the long journey by road came the voyage (weather permitting) of
+some fifteen hours, with the risk of being seized or pursued by French
+privateers; and when Ireland was reached the roads were of the worst.  We
+have glimpses of fashionable society in Dublin, of the quiet life at
+Laracor and Trim, and of the drinking of the waters at Wexford, where
+visitors had to put up with primitive arrangements: “Mrs. Dingley never
+saw such a place in her life.”
+
+Swift’s own characteristics come out in the clearest manner in the
+_Journal_, which gives all his hopes and fears during three busy years.
+He was pleased to find on his arrival in London how great a value was set
+on his friendship by both political parties: “The Whigs were ravished to
+see me, and would lay hold on me as a twig while they are drowning;” but
+Godolphin’s coldness enraged him, so that he was “almost vowing
+vengeance.”  Next day he talked treason heartily against the Whigs, their
+baseness and ingratitude, and went home full of schemes of revenge.  “The
+Tories drily tell me I may make my fortune, if I please; but I do not
+understand them, or rather, I _do_ understand them.”  He realised that
+the Tories might not be more grateful than others, but he thought they
+were pursuing the true interests of the public, and was glad to
+contribute what was in his power.  His vanity was gratified by Harley
+inviting him to the private dinners with St. John and Harcourt which were
+given on Saturdays, and by their calling him Jonathan; but he did not
+hope too much from their friendship: “I said I believed they would leave
+me Jonathan, as they found me . . . but I care not.”
+
+Of Swift’s frugal habits there is abundant evidence in the _Journal_.
+When he came to town he took rooms on a first floor, “a dining-room and
+bed-chamber, at eight shillings a week; plaguy dear, but I spend nothing
+for eating, never go to a tavern, and very seldom in a coach; yet after
+all it will be expensive.”  In November he mentions that he had a fire:
+“I am spending my second half-bushel of coals.”  In another place he
+says, “People have so left the town, that I am at a loss for a dinner. . . .
+It cost me eighteenpence in coach-hire before I could find a place
+to dine in.”  Elsewhere we find: “This paper does not cost me a farthing:
+I have it from the Secretary’s office.”  He often complains of having to
+take a coach owing to the dirty condition of the streets: “This rain
+ruins me in coach-hire; I walked away sixpennyworth, and came within a
+shilling length, and then took a coach, and got a lift back for nothing.”
+{0m}
+
+Swift’s arrogance—the arrogance, sometimes, of a man who is morbidly
+suspicious that he may be patronised—is shown in the manner in which he
+speaks of the grand ladies with whom he came in contact.  He calls the
+Duke of Ormond’s daughters “insolent drabs,” and talks of his “mistress,
+Ophy Butler’s wife, who is grown a little charmless.”  When the Duchess
+of Shrewsbury reproached him for not dining with her, Swift said that was
+not so soon done; he expected more advances from ladies, especially
+duchesses.  On another occasion he was to have supped at Lady
+Ashburnham’s, “but the drab did not call for us in her coach, as she
+promised, but sent for us, and so I sent my excuses.”  The arrogance was,
+however, often only on the surface.  It is evident that Swift was very
+kind in many cases.  He felt deeply for Mrs. Long in her misfortunes,
+living and dying in an obscure country town.  On the last illness of the
+poet Harrison he says, “I am very much afflicted for him, as he is my own
+creature. . . .  I was afraid to knock at the door; my mind misgave me.”
+He was “heartily sorry for poor Mrs. Parnell’s death; she seemed to be an
+excellent good-natured young woman, and I believe the poor lad is much
+afflicted; they appeared to live perfectly well together.”  Afterwards he
+helped Parnell by introducing him to Bolingbroke and Oxford.  He found
+kind words for Mrs. Manley in her illness, and Lady Ashburnham’s death
+was “extremely moving. . . .  She was my greatest favourite, and I am in
+excessive concern for her loss.”  Lastly, he was extraordinarily patient
+towards his servant Patrick, who drank, stopped out at night, and in many
+ways tried Swift’s temper.  There were good points about Patrick, but no
+doubt the great consideration which Swift showed him was due in part to
+the fact that he was a favourite of the ladies in Dublin, and had Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh to intercede for him.
+
+But for the best example of the kindly side of Swift’s nature, we must
+turn to what he tells us in the _Journal_ about Stella herself.  The
+“little language” which Swift used when writing to her was the language
+he employed when playing with Stella as a little child at Moor Park.
+Thackeray, who was not much in sympathy with Swift, said that he knew of
+“nothing more manly, more tender, more exquisitely touching, than some of
+these notes.”  Swift says that when he wrote plainly, he felt as if they
+were no longer alone, but “a bad scrawl is so snug it looks like a PMD.”
+In writing his fond and playful prattle, he made up his mouth “just as if
+he were speaking it.” {0n}
+
+Though Mrs. Dingley is constantly associated with Stella in the
+affectionate greetings in the _Journal_, she seems to have been included
+merely as a cloak to enable him to express the more freely his affection
+for her companion.  Such phrases as “saucy girls,” “sirrahs,”
+“sauceboxes,” and the like, are often applied to both; and sometimes
+Swift certainly writes as if the one were as dear to him as the other;
+thus we find, “Farewell, my dearest lives and delights, I love you better
+than ever, if possible, as hope saved, I do, and ever will. . . .  I can
+count upon nothing, nor will, but upon MD’s love and kindness. . . .  And
+so farewell, dearest MD, Stella, Dingley, Presto, all together, now and
+for ever, all together.”  But as a rule, notwithstanding Swift’s caution,
+the greetings intended for Stella alone are easily distinguishable in
+tone.  He often refers to her weak eyes and delicate health.  Thus he
+writes, “The chocolate is a present, madam, for Stella.  Don’t read this,
+you little rogue, with your little eyes; but give it to Dingley, pray
+now; and I will write as plain as the skies.”  And again, “God Almighty
+bless poor Stella, and her eyes and head: what shall we do to cure them,
+poor dear life?”  Or, “Now to Stella’s little postscript; and I am almost
+crazed that you vex yourself for not writing.  Can’t you dictate to
+Dingley, and not strain your dear little eyes?  I am sure ’tis the grief
+of my soul to think you are out of order.”  They had been keeping his
+birthday; Swift wished he had been with them, rather than in London,
+where he had no manner of pleasure: “I say Amen with all my heart and
+vitals, that we may never be asunder again ten days together while poor
+Presto lives.”  A few days later he says, “I wish I were at Laracor, with
+dear charming MD,” and again, “Farewell, dearest beloved MD, and love
+poor poor Presto, who has not had one happy day since he left you.”  “I
+will say no more, but beg you to be easy till Fortune takes his course,
+and to believe MD’s felicity is the great goal I aim at in all my
+pursuits.”  “How does Stella look, Madam Dingley?” he asks; “pretty well,
+a handsome young woman still?  Will she pass in a crowd?  Will she make a
+figure in a country church?”  Elsewhere he writes, on receipt of a
+letter, “God Almighty bless poor dear Stella, and send her a great many
+birthdays, all happy and healthy and wealthy, and with me ever together,
+and never asunder again, unless by chance. . . .  I can hardly imagine
+you absent when I am reading your letter or writing to you.  No, faith,
+you are just here upon this little paper, and therefore I see and talk
+with you every evening constantly, and sometimes in the morning.”  The
+letters lay under Swift’s pillow, and he fondled them as if he were
+caressing Stella’s hand.
+
+Of Stella herself we naturally have no direct account in the _Journal_,
+but we hear a good deal of her life in Ireland, and can picture what she
+was.  Among her friends in and about Trim and Laracor were Dr. Raymond,
+the vicar of Trim, and his wife, the Garret Wesleys, the Percevals, and
+Mr. Warburton, Swift’s curate.  At Dublin there were Archdeacon Walls and
+his family; Alderman Stoyte, his wife and sister-in-law; Dean Sterne and
+the Irish Postmaster-General, Isaac Manley.  For years these friends
+formed a club which met in Dublin at each other’s houses, to sup and play
+cards (“ombre and claret, and toasted oranges”), and we have frequent
+allusions to Stella’s indifferent play, and the money which she lost,
+much to Mrs. Dingley’s chagrin: “Poor Dingley fretted to see Stella lose
+that four and elevenpence t’other night.”  Mrs. Dingley herself could
+hardly play well enough to hold the cards while Stella went into the next
+room.  If at dinner the mutton was underdone, and “poor Stella cannot
+eat, poor dear rogue,” then “Dingley is so vexed.”  Swift was for ever
+urging Stella to walk and ride; she was “naturally a stout walker,” and
+“Dingley would do well enough if her petticoats were pinned up.”  And we
+see Stella setting out on and returning from her ride, with her riband
+and mask: “Ah, that riding to Laracor gives me short sighs as well as
+you,” he says; “all the days I have passed here have been dirt to those.”
+
+If the _Journal_ shows us some of Swift’s less attractive qualities, it
+shows still more how great a store of humour, tenderness, and affection
+there was in him.  In these letters we see his very soul; in his literary
+work we are seldom moved to anything but admiration of his wit and
+genius.  Such daily outpourings could never have been written for
+publication, they were meant only for one who understood him perfectly;
+and everything that we know of Stella—her kindliness, her wit, her
+vivacity, her loyalty—shows that she was worthy of the confidence.
+
+
+
+
+JOURNAL TO STELLA
+
+
+LETTER I. {1a}
+
+
+                                                 CHESTER, _Sept._ 2, 1710.
+
+JOE {1b} will give you an account of me till I got into the boat; after
+which the rogues made a new bargain, and forced me to give them two
+crowns, and talked as if we should not be able to overtake any ship: but
+in half an hour we got to the yacht; for the ships lay by [to] wait for
+my Lord Lieutenant’s steward.  We made our voyage in fifteen hours just.
+Last night I came to this town, and shall leave it, I believe, on Monday.
+The first man I met in Chester was Dr. Raymond. {1c}  He and Mrs. Raymond
+were here about levying a fine, in order to have power to sell their
+estate.  They have found everything answer very well.  They both desire
+to present their humble services to you: they do not think of Ireland
+till next year.  I got a fall off my horse, riding here from Parkgate,
+{2a} but no hurt; the horse understanding falls very well, and lying
+quietly till I get up.  My duty to the Bishop of Clogher. {2b}  I saw him
+returning from Dunleary; but he saw not me.  I take it ill he was not at
+Convocation, and that I have not his name to my powers. {2c}  I beg you
+will hold your resolution of going to Trim, and riding there as much as
+you can.  Let the Bishop of Clogher remind the Bishop of Killala {2d} to
+send me a letter, with one enclosed to the Bishop of Lichfield. {2e}  Let
+all who write to me, enclose to Richard Steele, Esq., at his office at
+the Cockpit, near Whitehall. {2f}  But not MD; I will pay for their
+letters at St. James’s Coffee-house, {2g} that I may have them the
+sooner.  My Lord Mountjoy {2h} is now in the humour that we should begin
+our journey this afternoon; so that I have stole here again to finish
+this letter, which must be short or long accordingly.  I write this post
+to Mrs. Wesley, {2i} and will tell her, that I have taken care she may
+have her bill of one hundred and fifteen pounds whenever she pleases to
+send for it; and in that case I desire you will send it her enclosed and
+sealed, and have it ready so, in case she should send for it: otherwise
+keep it.  I will say no more till I hear whether I go to-day or no: if I
+do, the letter is almost at an end.  My cozen Abigail is grown
+prodigiously old.  God Almighty bless poo dee richar MD; and, for God’s
+sake, be merry, and get oo health.  I am perfectly resolved to return as
+soon as I have done my commission, whether it succeeds or no.  I never
+went to England with so little desire in my life.  If Mrs. Curry {3a}
+makes any difficulty about the lodgings, I will quit them and pay her
+from July 9 last, and Mrs. Brent {3b} must write to Parvisol {3c} with
+orders accordingly.  The post is come from London, and just going out; so
+I have only time to pray God to bless poor richr MD FW FW MD MD ME ME ME.
+
+
+
+LETTER II.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Sept._ 9, 1710.
+
+I GOT here last Thursday, {4a} after five days’ travelling, weary the
+first, almost dead the second, tolerable the third, and well enough the
+rest; and am now glad of the fatigue, which has served for exercise; and
+I am at present well enough.  The Whigs were ravished to see me, and
+would lay hold on me as a twig while they are drowning, {4b} and the
+great men making me their clumsy apologies, etc.  But my Lord Treasurer
+{4c} received me with a great deal of coldness, which has enraged me so,
+I am almost vowing revenge.  I have not yet gone half my circle; but I
+find all my acquaintance just as I left them.  I hear my Lady Giffard
+{4d} is much at Court, and Lady Wharton {4e} was ridiculing it t’other
+day; so I have lost a friend there.  I have not yet seen her, nor intend
+it; but I will contrive to see Stella’s mother {4f} some other way.  I
+writ to the Bishop of Clogher from Chester; and I now write to the
+Archbishop of Dublin. {4g}  Everything is turning upside down; every Whig
+in great office will, to a man, be infallibly put out; and we shall have
+such a winter as hath not been seen in England.  Everybody asks me, how I
+came to be so long in Ireland, as naturally as if here were my being; but
+no soul offers to make it so: and I protest I shall return to Dublin, and
+the Canal at Laracor, {4h} with more satisfaction than ever I did in my
+life.  The Tatler {5a} expects every day to be turned out of his
+employment; and the Duke of Ormond, {5b} they say, will be Lieutenant of
+Ireland.  I hope you are now peaceably in Presto’s {5c} lodgings; but I
+resolve to turn you out by Christmas; in which time I shall either do my
+business, or find it not to be done.  Pray be at Trim by the time this
+letter comes to you; and ride little Johnson, who must needs be now in
+good case.  I have begun this letter unusually, on the post-night, and
+have already written to the Archbishop; and cannot lengthen this.
+Henceforth I will write something every day to MD, and make it a sort of
+journal; and when it is full, I will send it, whether MD writes or no;
+and so that will be pretty: and I shall always be in conversation with
+MD, and MD with Presto.  Pray make Parvisol pay you the ten pounds
+immediately; so I ordered him.  They tell me I am grown fatter, and look
+better; and, on Monday, Jervas {5d} is to retouch my picture.  I thought
+I saw Jack Temple {5e} and his wife pass by me to-day in their coach; but
+I took no notice of them.  I am glad I have wholly shaken off that
+family.  Tell the Provost, {5f} I have obeyed his commands to the Duke of
+Ormond; or let it alone, if you please.  I saw Jemmy Leigh {6a} just now
+at the Coffee-house, who asked after you with great kindness: he talks of
+going in a fortnight to Ireland.  My service to the Dean, {6b} and Mrs.
+Walls, and her Archdeacon. {6c}  Will Frankland’s {6d} wife is near
+bringing to-bed, and I have promised to christen the child.  I fancy you
+had my Chester letter the Tuesday after I writ.  I presented Dr. Raymond
+to Lord Wharton {6e} at Chester.  Pray let me know when Joe gets his
+money. {6f}  It is near ten, and I hate to send by the bellman. {6g}  MD
+shall have a longer letter in a week, but I send this only to tell I am
+safe in London; and so farewell, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER III.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Sept._ 9, 1710.
+
+AFTER seeing the Duke of Ormond, dining with Dr. Cockburn, {7a} passing
+some part of the afternoon with Sir Matthew Dudley {7b} and Will
+Frankland, the rest at St. James’s Coffee-house, I came home, and writ to
+the Archbishop of Dublin and MD, and am going to bed.  I forgot to tell
+you, that I begged Will Frankland to stand Manley’s {7c} friend with his
+father in this shaking season for places.  He told me, his father was in
+danger to be out; that several were now soliciting for Manley’s place;
+that he was accused of opening letters; that Sir Thomas Frankland {7d}
+would sacrifice everything to save himself; and in that, I fear, Manley
+is undone, etc.
+
+10.  To-day I dined with Lord Mountjoy at Kensington; saw my mistress,
+Ophy Butler’s {7e} wife, who is grown a little charmless.  I sat till ten
+in the evening with Addison and Steele: Steele will certainly lose his
+Gazetteer’s place, all the world detesting his engaging in parties. {8a}
+At ten I went to the Coffee-house, hoping to find Lord Radnor, {8b} whom
+I had not seen.  He was there; and for an hour and a half we talked
+treason heartily against the Whigs, their baseness and ingratitude.  And
+I am come home, rolling resentments in my mind, and framing schemes of
+revenge: full of which (having written down some hints) I go to bed.  I
+am afraid MD dined at home, because it is Sunday; and there was the
+little half-pint of wine: for God’s sake, be good girls, and all will be
+well.  Ben Tooke {8c} was with me this morning.
+
+11.  Seven, morning.  I am rising to go to Jervas to finish my picture,
+and ’tis shaving-day, so good-morrow MD; but don’t keep me now, for I
+can’t stay; and pray dine with the Dean, but don’t lose your money.  I
+long to hear from you, etc.—Ten at night.  I sat four hours this morning
+to Jervas, who has given my picture quite another turn, and now approves
+it entirely; but we must have the approbation of the town.  If I were
+rich enough, I would get a copy of it, and bring it over.  Mr. Addison
+and I dined together at his lodgings, and I sat with him part of this
+evening; and I am now come home to write an hour.  Patrick {8d} observes,
+that the rabble here are much more inquisitive in politics than in
+Ireland.  Every day we expect changes, and the Parliament to be
+dissolved.  Lord Wharton expects every day to be out: he is working like
+a horse for elections; and, in short, I never saw so great a ferment
+among all sorts of people.  I had a miserable letter from Joe last
+Saturday, telling me Mr. Pratt {9a} refuses payment of his money.  I have
+told it Mr. Addison, and will to Lord Wharton; but I fear with no
+success.  However, I will do all I can.
+
+12.  To-day I presented Mr. Ford {9b} to the Duke of Ormond; and paid my
+first visit to Lord President, {9c} with whom I had much discourse; but
+put him always off when he began to talk of Lord Wharton in relation to
+me, till he urged it: then I said, he knew I never expected anything from
+Lord Wharton, and that Lord Wharton knew that I understood it so.  He
+said that he had written twice to Lord Wharton about me, who both times
+said nothing at all to that part of his letter.  I am advised not to
+meddle in the affair of the First-Fruits, till this hurry is a little
+over, which still depends, and we are all in the dark.  Lord President
+told me he expects every day to be out, and has done so these two months.
+I protest, upon my life, I am heartily weary of this town, and wish I had
+never stirred.
+
+13.  I went this morning to the city, to see Mr. Stratford the Hamburg
+merchant, my old schoolfellow; {9d} but calling at Bull’s {9e} on Ludgate
+Hill, he forced me to his house at Hampstead to dinner among a great deal
+of ill company; among the rest Mr. Hoadley, {9f} the Whig clergyman, so
+famous for acting the contrary part to Sacheverell: {9g} but to-morrow I
+design again to see Stratford.  I was glad, however, to be at Hampstead,
+where I saw Lady Lucy {10a} and Moll Stanhope.  I hear very unfortunate
+news of Mrs. Long; {10b} she and her comrade {10c} have broke up house,
+and she is broke for good and all, and is gone to the country: I should
+be extremely sorry if this be true.
+
+14.  To-day, I saw Patty Rolt, {10d} who heard I was in town; and I dined
+with Stratford at a merchant’s in the city, where I drank the first Tokay
+wine I ever saw; and it is admirable, yet not to the degree I expected.
+Stratford is worth a plum, {10e} and is now lending the Government forty
+thousand pounds; yet we were educated together at the same school and
+university. {10f}  We hear the Chancellor {10g} is to be suddenly out,
+and Sir Simon Harcourt {11a} to succeed him: I am come early home, not
+caring for the Coffee-house.
+
+15.  To-day Mr. Addison, Colonel Freind, {11b} and I, went to see the
+million lottery {11c} drawn at Guildhall.  The jackanapes of bluecoat
+boys gave themselves such airs in pulling out the tickets, and showed
+white hands open to the company, to let us see there was no cheat.  We
+dined at a country-house near Chelsea, where Mr. Addison often retires;
+and to-night, at the Coffee-house, we hear Sir Simon Harcourt is made
+Lord Keeper; so that now we expect every moment the Parliament will be
+dissolved; but I forgot that this letter will not go in three or four
+days, and that my news will be stale, which I should therefore put in the
+last paragraph.  Shall I send this letter before I hear from MD, or shall
+I keep it to lengthen?  I have not yet seen Stella’s mother, because I
+will not see Lady Giffard; but I will contrive to go there when Lady
+Giffard is abroad.  I forgot to mark my two former letters; but I
+remember this is Number 3, and I have not yet had Number 1 from MD; but I
+shall by Monday, which I reckon will be just a fortnight after you had my
+first.  I am resolved to bring over a great deal of china.  I loved it
+mightily to-day. {11d}  What shall I bring?
+
+16.  Morning.  Sir John Holland, {11e} Comptroller of the Household, has
+sent to desire my acquaintance: I have a mind to refuse him, because he
+is a Whig, and will, I suppose, be out among the rest; but he is a man of
+worth and learning.  Tell me, do you like this journal way of writing?
+Is it not tedious and dull?
+
+Night.  I dined to-day with a cousin, a printer, {12a} where Patty Rolt
+lodges, and then came home, after a visit or two; and it has been a very
+insipid day.  Mrs. Long’s misfortune is confirmed to me; bailiffs were in
+her house; she retired to private lodgings; thence to the country, nobody
+knows where: her friends leave letters at some inn, and they are carried
+to her; and she writes answers without dating them from any place.  I
+swear, it grieves me to the soul.
+
+17.  To-day I dined six miles out of town, with Will Pate, {12b} the
+learned woollen-draper; Mr. Stratford went with me; six miles here is
+nothing: we left Pate after sunset, and were here before it was dark.
+This letter shall go on Tuesday, whether I hear from MD or no.  My health
+continues pretty well; pray God Stella may give me a good account of
+hers! and I hope you are now at Trim, or soon designing it.  I was
+disappointed to-night: the fellow gave me a letter, and I hoped to see
+little MD’s hand; and it was only to invite me to a venison pasty to-day:
+so I lost my pasty into the bargain.  Pox on these declining courtiers!
+Here is Mr. Brydges, {12c} the Paymaster-General, desiring my
+acquaintance; but I hear the Queen sent Lord Shrewsbury {12d} to assure
+him he may keep his place; and he promises me great assistance in the
+affair of the First-Fruits.  Well, I must turn over this leaf to-night,
+though the side would hold another line; but pray consider this is a
+whole sheet; it holds a plaguy deal, and you must be content to be weary;
+but I’ll do so no more.  Sir Simon Harcourt is made Attorney-General, and
+not Lord Keeper.
+
+18.  To-day I dined with Mr. Stratford at Mr. Addison’s retirement near
+Chelsea; then came to town; got home early, and began a letter to the
+_Tatler_, {13a} about the corruptions of style and writing, etc., and,
+having not heard from you, am resolved this letter shall go to-night.
+Lord Wharton was sent for to town in mighty haste, by the Duke of
+Devonshire: {13b} they have some project in hand; but it will not do, for
+every hour we expect a thorough revolution, and that the Parliament will
+be dissolved.  When you see Joe, tell him Lord Wharton is too busy to
+mind any of his affairs; but I will get what good offices I can from Mr.
+Addison, and will write to-day to Mr. Pratt; and bid Joe not to be
+discouraged, for I am confident he will get the money under any
+Government; but he must have patience.
+
+19.  I have been scribbling this morning, and I believe shall hardly fill
+this side to-day, but send it as it is; and it is good enough for naughty
+girls that won’t write to a body, and to a good boy like Presto.  I
+thought to have sent this to-night, but was kept by company, and could
+not; and, to say the truth, I had a little mind to expect one post more
+for a letter from MD.  Yesterday at noon died the Earl of Anglesea, {13c}
+the great support of the Tories; so that employment of Vice-Treasurer of
+Ireland is again vacant.  We were to have been great friends, and I could
+hardly have a loss that could grieve me more.  The Bishop of Durham {14a}
+died the same day.  The Duke of Ormond’s daughter {14b} was to visit me
+to-day at a third place by way of advance, {14c} and I am to return it
+to-morrow.  I have had a letter from Lady Berkeley, begging me for
+charity to come to Berkeley Castle, for company to my lord, {14d} who has
+been ill of a dropsy; but I cannot go, and must send my excuse to-morrow.
+I am told that in a few hours there will be more removals.
+
+20.  To-day I returned my visits to the Duke’s daughters; {14e} the
+insolent drabs came up to my very mouth to salute me.  Then I heard the
+report confirmed of removals; my Lord President Somers; the Duke of
+Devonshire, Lord Steward; and Mr. Boyle, {14f} Secretary of State, are
+all turned out to-day.  I never remember such bold steps taken by a
+Court: I am almost shocked at it, though I did not care if they were all
+hanged.  We are astonished why the Parliament is not yet dissolved, and
+why they keep a matter of that importance to the last.  We shall have a
+strange winter here, between the struggles of a cunning provoked
+discarded party, and the triumphs of one in power; of both which I shall
+be an indifferent spectator, and return very peaceably to Ireland, when I
+have done my part in the affair I am entrusted with, whether it succeeds
+or no.  To-morrow I change my lodgings in Pall Mall for one in Bury
+Street, {15a} where I suppose I shall continue while I stay in London.
+If anything happens to-morrow, I will add it.—Robin’s Coffee-house. {15b}
+We have great news just now from Spain; Madrid taken, and Pampeluna.  I
+am here ever interrupted.
+
+21.  I have just received your letter, which I will not answer now; God
+be thanked all things are so well.  I find you have not yet had my
+second: I had a letter from Parvisol, who tells me he gave Mrs. Walls a
+bill of twenty pounds for me, to be given to you; but you have not sent
+it.  This night the Parliament is dissolved: great news from Spain; King
+Charles and Stanhope are at Madrid, and Count Staremberg has taken
+Pampeluna.  Farewell.  This is from St. James’s Coffee-house.  I will
+begin my answer to your letter to-night, but not send it this week.  Pray
+tell me whether you like this journal way of writing.—I don’t like your
+reasons for not going to Trim.  Parvisol tells me he can sell your horse.
+Sell it, with a pox?  Pray let him know that he shall sell his soul as
+soon.  What? sell anything that Stella loves, and may sometimes ride? It
+is hers, and let her do as she pleases: pray let him know this by the
+first that you know goes to Trim.  Let him sell my grey, and be hanged.
+
+
+
+LETTER IV.
+
+
+                                                 LONDON, _Sept._ 21, 1710.
+
+HERE must I begin another letter, on a whole sheet, for fear saucy little
+MD should be angry, and think _much_ that the paper is too _little_.  I
+had your letter this night, as told you just and no more in my last; for
+this must be taken up in answering yours, saucebox.  I believe I told you
+where I dined to-day; and to-morrow I go out of town for two days to dine
+with the same company on Sunday; Molesworth {16a} the Florence Envoy,
+Stratford, and some others.  I heard to-day that a gentlewoman from Lady
+Giffard’s house had been at the Coffee-house to inquire for me.  It was
+Stella’s mother, I suppose.  I shall send her a penny-post letter {16b}
+to-morrow, and contrive to see her without hazarding seeing Lady Giffard,
+which I will not do until she begs my pardon.
+
+22.  I dined to-day at Hampstead with Lady Lucy, etc., and when I got
+home found a letter from Joe, with one enclosed to Lord Wharton, which I
+will send to his Excellency, and second it as well as I can; but to talk
+of getting the Queen’s order is a jest.  Things are in such a combustion
+here, that I am advised not to meddle yet in the affair I am upon, which
+concerns the clergy of a whole kingdom; and does he think anybody will
+trouble the Queen about Joe?  We shall, I hope, get a recommendation from
+the Lord Lieutenant to the trustees for the linen business, and I hope
+that will do; and so I will write to him in a few days, and he must have
+patience.  This is an answer to part of your letter as well as his.  I
+lied; it is to-morrow I go to the country, and I won’t answer a bit more
+of your letter yet.
+
+23.  Here is such a stir and bustle with this little MD of ours; I must
+be writing every night; I can’t go to bed without a word to them; I can’t
+put out my candle till I have bid them good-night: O Lord, O Lord!  Well,
+I dined the first time to-day, with Will Frankland and his fortune: she
+is not very handsome.  Did I not say I would go out of town to-day?  I
+hate lying abroad and clutter; I go to-morrow in Frankland’s chariot, and
+come back at night.  Lady Berkeley has invited me to Berkeley Castle, and
+Lady Betty Germaine {17a} to Drayton in Northamptonshire; and I’ll go to
+neither.  Let me alone, I must finish my pamphlet.  I have sent a long
+letter to Bickerstaff: {17b} let the Bishop of Clogher smoke {17c} it if
+he can.  Well, I’ll write to the Bishop of Killala; but you might have
+told him how sudden and unexpected my journey was though.  Deuce take
+Lady S—; and if I know D—y, he is a rawboned-faced fellow, not handsome,
+nor visibly so young as you say: she sacrifices two thousand pounds a
+year, and keeps only six hundred.  Well, you have had all my land journey
+in my second letter, and so much for that.  So, you have got into
+Presto’s lodgings; very fine, truly!  We have had a fortnight of the most
+glorious weather on earth, and still continues: I hope you have made the
+best of it.  Ballygall {17d} will be a pure {17e} good place for air, if
+Mrs. Ashe makes good her promise.  Stella writes like an emperor: I am
+afraid it hurts your eyes; take care of that pray, pray, Mrs. Stella.
+Can’t you do what you will with your own horse?  Pray don’t let that
+puppy Parvisol sell him.  Patrick is drunk about three times a week, and
+I bear it, and he has got the better of me; but one of these days I will
+positively turn him off to the wide world, when none of you are by to
+intercede for him.—Stuff—how can I get her husband into the
+Charter-house? get a — into the Charter-house.—Write constantly!  Why,
+sirrah, don’t I write every day, and sometimes twice a day to MD?  Now I
+have answered all your letter, and the rest must be as it can be: send me
+my bill.  Tell Mrs. Brent {18a} what I say of the Charter-house.  I think
+this enough for one night; and so farewell till this time to-morrow.
+
+24.  To-day I dined six miles out of town at Will Pate’s, with Stratford,
+Frankland, and the Molesworths, {18b} and came home at night, and was
+weary and lazy.  I can say no more now, but good-night.
+
+25.  I was so lazy to-day that I dined at next door, {18c} and have sat
+at home since six, writing to the Bishop of Clogher, Dean Sterne, and Mr.
+Manley: the last, because I am in fear for him about his place, and have
+sent him my opinion, what I and his other friends here think he ought to
+do.  I hope he will take it well.  My advice was, to keep as much in
+favour as possible with Sir Thomas Frankland, his master here.
+
+26.  Smoke how I widen the margin by lying in bed when I write.  My bed
+lies on the wrong side for me, so that I am forced often to write when I
+am up.  Manley, you must know, has had people putting in for his place
+already; and has been complained of for opening letters.  Remember that
+last Sunday, September 24, 1710, was as hot as midsummer.  This was
+written in the morning; it is now night, and Presto in bed.  Here’s a
+clutter, I have gotten MD’s second letter, and I must answer it here.  I
+gave the bill to Tooke, and so—  Well, I dined to-day with Sir John
+Holland the Comptroller, and sat with him till eight; then came home, and
+sent my letters, and writ part of a lampoon, {18d} which goes on very
+slow: and now I am writing to saucy MD; no wonder, indeed, good boys must
+write to naughty girls.  I have not seen your mother yet; my penny-post
+letter, I suppose, miscarried: I will write another.  Mr. S— came to see
+me; and said M— was going to the country next morning with her husband
+(who I find is a surly brute); so I could only desire my service to her.
+
+27.  To-day all our company dined at Will Frankland’s, with Steele and
+Addison too.  This is the first rainy day since I came to town; I cannot
+afford to answer your letter yet.  Morgan, {19a} the puppy, writ me a
+long letter, to desire I would recommend him for purse-bearer or
+secretary to the next Lord Chancellor that would come with the next
+Governor.  I will not answer him; but beg you will say these words to his
+father Raymond, {19b} or anybody that will tell him: That Dr. Swift has
+received his letter; and would be very ready to serve him, but cannot do
+it in what he desires, because he has no sort of interest in the persons
+to be applied to.  These words you may write, and let Joe, or Mr.
+Warburton, {19c} give them to him: a pox on him!  However, it is by these
+sort of ways that fools get preferment.  I must not end yet, because I
+cannot say good-night without losing a line, and then MD would scold; but
+now, good-night.
+
+28.  I have the finest piece of Brazil tobacco for Dingley that ever was
+born. {19d}  You talk of Leigh; why, he won’t be in Dublin these two
+months: he goes to the country, then returns to London, to see how the
+world goes here in Parliament.  Good-night, sirrahs; no, no, not night; I
+writ this in the morning, and looking carelessly I thought it had been of
+last night.  I dined to-day with Mrs. Barton {20a} alone at her lodgings;
+where she told me for certain, that Lady S— {20b} was with child when she
+was last in England, and pretended a tympany, and saw everybody; then
+disappeared for three weeks, her tympany was gone, and she looked like a
+ghost, etc.  No wonder she married when she was so ill at containing.
+Connolly {20c} is out; and Mr. Roberts in his place, who loses a better
+here, but was formerly a Commissioner in Ireland.  That employment cost
+Connolly three thousand pounds to Lord Wharton; so he has made one ill
+bargain in his life.
+
+29.  I wish MD a merry Michaelmas.  I dined with Mr. Addison, and Jervas
+the painter, at Addison’s country place; and then came home, and writ
+more to my lampoon.  I made a _Tatler_ since I came: guess which it is,
+and whether the Bishop of Clogher smokes it.  I saw Mr. Sterne {20d}
+to-day: he will do as you order, and I will give him chocolate for
+Stella’s health.  He goes not these three weeks.  I wish I could send it
+some other way.  So now to your letter, brave boys.  I don’t like your
+way of saving shillings: nothing vexes me but that it does not make
+Stella a coward in a coach. {20e} I don’t think any lady’s advice about
+my ear signifies twopence: however I will, in compliance to you, ask Dr.
+Cockburn.  Radcliffe {21a} I know not, and Barnard {21b} I never see.
+Walls will certainly be stingier for seven years, upon pretence of his
+robbery.  So Stella puns again; why, ’tis well enough; but I’ll not
+second it, though I could make a dozen: I never thought of a pun since I
+left Ireland.—Bishop of Clogher’s bill?  Why, he paid it to me; do you
+think I was such a fool to go without it?  As for the four shillings, I
+will give you a bill on Parvisol for it on t’other side of this paper;
+and pray tear off the two letters I shall write to him and Joe, or let
+Dingley transcribe and send them; though that to Parvisol, I believe, he
+must have my hand for.  No, no, I’ll eat no grapes; I ate about six the
+other day at Sir John Holland’s; but would not give sixpence for a
+thousand, they are so bad this year.  Yes, faith, I hope in God Presto
+and MD will be together this time twelvemonth.  What then?  Last year I
+suppose I was at Laracor; but next I hope to eat my Michaelmas goose at
+my two little gooses’ lodgings.  I drink no _aile_ (I suppose you mean
+_ale_); but yet good wine every day, of five and six shillings a bottle.
+O Lord, how much Stella writes! pray don’t carry that too far, young
+women, but be temperate, to hold out.  To-morrow I go to Mr. Harley.
+{21c} Why, small hopes from the Duke of Ormond: he loves me very well, I
+believe, and would, in my turn, give me something to make me easy; and I
+have good interest among his best friends.  But I don’t think of anything
+further than the business I am upon.  You see I writ to Manley before I
+had your letter, and I fear he will be out.  Yes, Mrs. Owl, Bligh’s
+corpse {22a} came to Chester when I was there; and I told you so in my
+letter, or forgot it.  I lodge in Bury Street, where I removed a week
+ago.  I have the first floor, a dining-room, and bed-chamber, at eight
+shillings a week; plaguy deep, but I spend nothing for eating, never go
+to a tavern, and very seldom in a coach; yet after all it will be
+expensive.  Why do you trouble yourself, Mistress Stella, about my
+instrument?  I have the same the Archbishop gave me; and it is as good
+now the bishops are away.  The Dean friendly! the Dean be poxed: a great
+piece of friendship indeed, what you heard him tell the Bishop of
+Clogher; I wonder he had the face to talk so: but he lent me money, and
+that’s enough.  Faith, I would not send this these four days, only for
+writing to Joe and Parvisol.  Tell the Dean that when the bishops send me
+any packets, they must not write to me at Mr. Steele’s; but direct for
+Mr. Steele, at his office at the Cockpit, and let the enclosed be
+directed for me: that mistake cost me eighteenpence the other day.
+
+30.  I dined with Stratford to-day, but am not to see Mr. Harley till
+Wednesday: it is late, and I send this before there is occasion for the
+bell; because I would have Joe have his letter, and Parvisol too; which
+you must so contrive as not to cost them double postage.  I can say no
+more, but that I am, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER V.
+
+
+                                                 LONDON, _Sept._ 30, 1710.
+
+HAN’T I brought myself into a fine _præmunire_, {22b} to begin writing
+letters in whole sheets? and now I dare not leave it off.  I cannot tell
+whether you like these journal letters: I believe they would be dull to
+me to read them over; but, perhaps, little MD is pleased to know how
+Presto passes his time in her absence.  I always begin my last the same
+day I ended my former.  I told you where I dined to-day at a tavern with
+Stratford: Lewis, {23a} who is a great favourite of Harley’s, was to have
+been with us; but he was hurried to Hampton Court, and sent his excuse;
+and that next Wednesday he would introduce me to Harley.  ’Tis good to
+see what a lamentable confession the Whigs all make me of my ill usage:
+but I mind them not.  I am already represented to Harley as a
+discontented person, that was used ill for not being Whig enough; and I
+hope for good usage from him.  The Tories drily tell me, I may make my
+fortune, if I please; but I do not understand them—or rather, I do
+understand them.
+
+Oct. 1.  To-day I dined at Molesworth’s, the Florence Envoy; and sat this
+evening with my friend Darteneuf, {23b} whom you have heard me talk of;
+the greatest punner of this town next myself.  Have you smoked the
+_Tatler_ that I writ? {23c}  It is much liked here, and I think it a pure
+{23d} one.  To-morrow I go with Delaval, {23e} the Portugal Envoy, to
+dine with Lord Halifax near Hampton Court. {23f}  Your Manley’s brother,
+a Parliament-man here, has gotten an employment; {24a} and I am informed
+uses much interest to preserve his brother: and, to-day, I spoke to the
+elder Frankland to engage his father (Postmaster here); and I hope he
+will be safe, although he is cruelly hated by all the Tories of Ireland.
+I have almost finished my lampoon, and will print it for revenge on a
+certain great person. {24b}  It has cost me but three shillings in meat
+and drink since I came here, as thin as the town is.  I laugh to see
+myself so disengaged in these revolutions.  Well, I must leave off, and
+go write to Sir John Stanley, {24c} to desire him to engage Lady Hyde as
+my mistress to engage Lord Hyde {24d} in favour of Mr. Pratt. {24e}
+
+2.  Lord Halifax was at Hampton Court at his lodgings, and I dined with
+him there with Methuen, {24f} and Delaval, and the late Attorney-General.
+{24g}  I went to the Drawing-room before dinner (for the Queen was at
+Hampton Court), and expected to see nobody; but I met acquaintance
+enough.  I walked in the gardens, saw the cartoons of Raphael, and other
+things; and with great difficulty got from Lord Halifax, who would have
+kept me to-morrow to show me his house and park, and improvements.  We
+left Hampton Court at sunset, and got here in a chariot and two horses
+time enough by starlight.  That’s something charms me mightily about
+London; that you go dine a dozen miles off in October, stay all day, and
+return so quickly: you cannot do anything like this in Dublin. {25a}  I
+writ a second penny post letter to your mother, and hear nothing of her.
+Did I tell you that Earl Berkeley died last Sunday was se’nnight, at
+Berkeley Castle, of a dropsy?  Lord Halifax began a health to me to-day;
+it was the Resurrection of the Whigs, which I refused unless he would add
+their Reformation too and I told him he was the only Whig in England I
+loved, or had any good opinion of.
+
+3.  This morning Stella’s sister {25b} came to me with a letter from her
+mother, who is at Sheen; but will soon be in town, and will call to see
+me: she gave me a bottle of palsy water, {25c} a small one, and desired I
+would send it you by the first convenience, as I will; and she promises a
+quart bottle of the same: your sister looked very well, and seems a good
+modest sort of girl.  I went then to Mr. Lewis, first secretary to Lord
+Dartmouth, {25d} and favourite to Mr. Harley, who is to introduce me
+to-morrow morning.  Lewis had with him one Mr. Dyot, {25e} a Justice of
+Peace, worth twenty thousand pounds, a Commissioner of the Stamp Office,
+and married to a sister of Sir Philip Meadows, {26a} Envoy to the
+Emperor.  I tell you this, because it is odds but this Mr. Dyot will be
+hanged; for he is discovered to have counterfeited stamped paper, in
+which he was a Commissioner; and, with his accomplices, has cheated the
+Queen of a hundred thousand pounds.  You will hear of it before this come
+to you, but may be not so particularly; and it is a very odd accident in
+such a man.  Smoke Presto writing news to MD.  I dined to-day with Lord
+Mountjoy at Kensington, and walked from thence this evening to town like
+an emperor.  Remember that yesterday, October 2, was a cruel hard frost,
+with ice; and six days ago I was dying with heat.  As thin as the town
+is, I have more dinners than ever; and am asked this month by some
+people, without being able to come for pre-engagements.  Well, but I
+should write plainer, when I consider Stella cannot read, {26b} and
+Dingley is not so skilful at my ugly hand.  I had to-night a letter from
+Mr. Pratt, who tells me Joe will have his money when there are trustees
+appointed by the Lord Lieutenant for receiving and disposing the linen
+fund; and whenever those trustees are appointed, I will solicit whoever
+is Lord Lieutenant, and am in no fear of succeeding.  So pray tell or
+write him word, and bid him not be cast down; for Ned Southwell {26c} and
+Mr. Addison both think Pratt in the right.  Don’t lose your money at
+Manley’s to-night, sirrahs.
+
+4.  After I had put out my candle last night, my landlady came into my
+room, with a servant of Lord Halifax, to desire I would go dine with him
+at his house near Hampton Court; but I sent him word, I had business of
+great importance that hindered me, etc.  And to-day I was brought
+privately to Mr. Harley, who received me with the greatest respect and
+kindness imaginable: he has appointed me an hour on Saturday at four,
+afternoon, when I will open my business to him; which expression I would
+not use if I were a woman.  I know you smoked it; but I did not till I
+writ it.  I dined to-day at Mr. Delaval’s, the Envoy for Portugal, with
+Nic Rowe {27a} the poet, and other friends; and I gave my lampoon to be
+printed.  I have more mischief in my heart; and I think it shall go round
+with them all, as this hits, and I can find hints.  I am certain I
+answered your 2d letter, and yet I do not find it here.  I suppose it was
+in my 4th: and why N. 2d, 3d; is it not enough to say, as I do, 1, 2, 3?
+etc.  I am going to work at another _Tatler_: {27b}  I’ll be far enough
+but I say the same thing over two or three times, just as I do when I am
+talking to little MD; but what care I? they can read it as easily as I
+can write it: I think I have brought these lines pretty straight again.
+I fear it will be long before I finish two sides at this rate.  Pray,
+dear MD, when I occasionally give you any little commission mixed with my
+letters, don’t forget it, as that to Morgan and Joe, etc., for I write
+just as I can remember, otherwise I would put them all together.  I was
+to visit Mr. Sterne to-day, and give him your commission about
+handkerchiefs: that of chocolate I will do myself, and send it him when
+he goes, and you’ll pay me when _the giver’s bread_, {27c} etc.  To-night
+I will read a pamphlet, to amuse myself.  God preserve your dear healths!
+
+5.  This morning Delaval came to see me, and we went together to
+Kneller’s, {27d} who was not in town.  In the way we met the electors for
+Parliament-men: {28a} and the rabble came about our coach, crying, “A
+Colt, a Stanhope,” etc.  We were afraid of a dead cat, or our glasses
+broken, and so were always of their side.  I dined again at Delaval’s;
+and in the evening, at the Coffee-house, heard Sir Andrew Fountaine {28b}
+was come to town.  This has been but an insipid sort of day, and I have
+nothing to remark upon it worth threepence: I hope MD had a better, with
+the Dean, the Bishop, or Mrs. Walls. {28c}  Why, the reason you lost four
+and eightpence last night but one at Manley’s was, because you played bad
+games: I took notice of six that you had ten to one against you: Would
+any but a mad lady go out twice upon Manilio; Basto, and two small
+diamonds? {28d}  Then in that game of spades, you blundered when you had
+ten-ace; I never saw the like of you: and now you are in a huff because I
+tell you this.  Well, here’s two and eightpence halfpenny towards your
+loss.
+
+6.  Sir Andrew Fountaine came this morning, and caught me writing in bed.
+I went into the city with him; and we dined at the Chop-house with Will
+Pate, {28e} the learned woollen-draper: then we sauntered at China-shops
+{29a} and booksellers; went to the tavern, drank two pints of white wine,
+and never parted till ten: and now I am come home, and must copy out some
+papers I intend for Mr. Harley, whom I am to see, as I told you,
+to-morrow afternoon; so that this night I shall say little to MD, but
+that I heartily wish myself with them, and will come as soon as I either
+fail, or compass my business.  We now hear daily of elections; and, in a
+list I saw yesterday of about twenty, there are seven or eight more
+Tories than in the last Parliament; so that I believe they need not fear
+a majority, with the help of those who will vote as the Court pleases.
+But I have been told that Mr. Harley himself would not let the Tories be
+too numerous, for fear they should be insolent, and kick against him; and
+for that reason they have kept several Whigs in employments, who expected
+to be turned out every day; as Sir John Holland the Comptroller, and many
+others.  And so get you gone to your cards, and your claret and orange,
+at the Dean’s; and I’ll go write.
+
+7.  I wonder when this letter will be finished: it must go by Tuesday,
+that’s certain; and if I have one from MD before, I will not answer it,
+that’s as certain too.  ’Tis now morning, and I did not finish my papers
+for Mr. Harley last night; for you must understand Presto was sleepy, and
+made blunders and blots.  Very pretty that I must be writing to young
+women in a morning fresh and fasting, faith.  Well, good-morrow to you;
+and so I go to business, and lay aside this paper till night, sirrahs.—At
+night.  Jack How {29b} told Harley that if there were a lower place in
+hell than another, it was reserved for his porter, who tells lies so
+gravely, and with so civil a manner.  This porter I have had to deal
+with, going this evening at four to visit Mr. Harley, by his own
+appointment.  But the fellow told me no lie, though I suspected every
+word he said.  He told me his master was just gone to dinner, with much
+company, and desired I would come an hour hence: which I did, expecting
+to hear Mr. Harley was gone out; but they had just done dinner.  Mr.
+Harley came out to me, brought me in, and presented to me his son-in-law
+Lord Doblane {30a} (or some such name) and his own son, {30b} and, among
+others, Will Penn {30c} the Quaker: we sat two hours drinking as good
+wine as you do; and two hours more he and I alone; where he heard me tell
+my business; entered into it with all kindness; asked for my powers, and
+read them; and read likewise a memorial {30d} I had drawn up, and put it
+in his pocket to show the Queen; told me the measures he would take; and,
+in short, said everything I could wish: told me, he must bring Mr. St.
+John {30e} (Secretary of State) and me acquainted; and spoke so many
+things of personal kindness and esteem for me, that I am inclined half to
+believe what some friends have told me, that he would do everything to
+bring me over.  He has desired to dine with me (what a comical mistake
+was that!).  I mean he has desired me to dine with him on Tuesday; and
+after four hours being with him, set me down at St. James’s Coffee-house
+in a hackney-coach.  All this is odd and comical, if you consider him and
+me.  He knew my Christian name very well.  I could not forbear saying
+thus much upon this matter, although you will think it tedious.  But I’ll
+tell you; you must know, ’tis fatal {31a} to me to be a scoundrel and a
+prince the same day: for, being to see him at four, I could not engage
+myself to dine at any friend’s; so I went to Tooke, {31b} to give him a
+ballad, and dine with him; but he was not at home: so I was forced to go
+to a blind {31c} chop-house, and dine for tenpence upon gill-ale, {31d}
+bad broth, and three chops of mutton; and then go reeking from thence to
+the First Minister of State.  And now I am going in charity to send
+Steele a _Tatler_, who is very low of late.  I think I am civiller than I
+used to be; and have not used the expression of “you in Ireland” and “we
+in England” as I did when I was here before, to your great
+indignation.—They may talk of the you know what; {31e} but, gad, if it
+had not been for that, I should never have been able to get the access I
+have had; and if that helps me to succeed, then that same thing will be
+serviceable to the Church.  But how far we must depend upon new friends,
+I have learnt by long practice, though I think among great Ministers,
+they are just as good as old ones.  And so I think this important day has
+made a great hole in this side of the paper; and the fiddle-faddles of
+to-morrow and Monday will make up the rest; and, besides, I shall see
+Harley on Tuesday before this letter goes.
+
+8.  I must tell you a great piece of refinement {31f} of Harley.  He
+charged me to come to him often: I told him I was loth to trouble him in
+so much business as he had, and desired I might have leave to come at his
+levee; which he immediately refused, and said, that was not a place for
+friends to come to.  ’Tis now but morning; and I have got a foolish
+trick, I must say something to MD when I wake, and wish them a
+good-morrow; for this is not a shaving-day, Sunday, so I have time
+enough: but get you gone, you rogues, I must go write: Yes, ’twill vex me
+to the blood if any of these long letters should miscarry: if they do, I
+will shrink to half-sheets again; but then what will you do to make up
+the journal? there will be ten days of Presto’s life lost; and that will
+be a sad thing, faith and troth.—At night.  I was at a loss to-day for a
+dinner, unless I would have gone a great way, so I dined with some
+friends that board hereabout, {32a} as a spunger; {32b} and this evening
+Sir Andrew Fountaine would needs have me go to the tavern; where, for two
+bottles of wine, Portugal and Florence, among three of us, we had sixteen
+shillings to pay; but if ever he catches me so again, I’ll spend as many
+pounds: and therefore I have it among my extraordinaries but we had a
+neck of mutton dressed _à la Maintenon_, that the dog could not eat: and
+it is now twelve o’clock, and I must go sleep.  I hope this letter will
+go before I have MD’s third.  Do you believe me? and yet, faith, I long
+for MD’s third too and yet I would have it to say, that I writ five for
+two.  I am not fond at all of St. James’s Coffee-house, {32c} as I used
+to be.  I hope it will mend in winter; but now they are all out of town
+at elections, or not come from their country houses.  Yesterday I was
+going with Dr. Garth {32d} to dine with Charles Main, {32e} near the
+Tower, who has an employment there: he is of Ireland; the Bishop of
+Clogher knows him well: an honest, good-natured fellow, a thorough hearty
+laugher, mightily beloved by the men of wit: his mistress is never above
+a cook-maid.  And so, good-night, etc.
+
+9.  I dined to-day at Sir John Stanley’s; my Lady Stanley {32f} is one of
+my favourites: I have as many here as the Bishop of Killala has in
+Ireland.  I am thinking what scurvy company I shall be to MD when I come
+back: they know everything of me already: I will tell you no more, or I
+shall have nothing to say, no story to tell, nor any kind of thing.  I
+was very uneasy last night with ugly, nasty, filthy wine, that turned
+sour on my stomach.  I must go to the tavern: oh, but I told you that
+before.  To-morrow I dine at Harley’s, and will finish this letter at my
+return; but I can write no more now, because of the Archbishop: faith,
+’tis true; for I am going now to write to him an account of what I have
+done in the business with Harley: {33a} and, faith, young women, I’ll
+tell you what you must count upon, that I never will write one word on
+the third side in these long letters.
+
+10.  Poor MD’s letter was lying so huddled up among papers, I could not
+find it: I mean poor Presto’s letter.  Well, I dined with Mr. Harley
+to-day, and hope some things will be done; but I must say no more: and
+this letter must be sent to the post-house, and not by the bellman. {33b}
+I am to dine again there on Sunday next; I hope to some good issue.  And
+so now, soon as ever I can in bed, I must begin my 6th to MD as gravely
+as if I had not written a word this month: fine doings, faith!  Methinks
+I don’t write as I should, because I am not in bed: see the ugly wide
+lines.  God Almighty ever bless you, etc.
+
+Faith, this is a whole treatise; I’ll go reckon the lines on the other
+sides.  I’ve reckoned them. {33c}
+
+
+
+LETTER VI.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Oct._ 10, 1710.
+
+SO, as I told you just now in the letter I sent half an hour ago, I dined
+with Mr. Harley to-day, who presented me to the Attorney-General, Sir
+Simon Harcourt, with much compliment on all sides, etc.  Harley told me
+he had shown my memorial to the Queen, and seconded it very heartily; and
+he desires me to dine with him again on Sunday, when he promises to
+settle it with Her Majesty, before she names a Governor: {34a} and I
+protest I am in hopes it will be done, all but the forms, by that time;
+for he loves the Church.  This is a popular thing, and he would not have
+a Governor share in it; and, besides, I am told by all hands, he has a
+mind to gain me over.  But in the letter I writ last post (yesterday) to
+the Archbishop, I did not tell him a syllable of what Mr. Harley said to
+me last night, because he charged me to keep it secret; so I would not
+tell it to you, but that, before this goes, I hope the secret will be
+over.  I am now writing my poetical “Description of a Shower in London,”
+and will send it to the _Tatler_. {34b}  This is the last sheet of a
+whole quire I have written since I came to town.  Pray, now it comes into
+my head, will you, when you go to Mrs. Walls, contrive to know whether
+Mrs. Wesley {34c} be in town, and still at her brother’s, and how she is
+in health, and whether she stays in town.  I writ to her from Chester, to
+know what I should do with her note; and I believe the poor woman is
+afraid to write to me: so I must go to my business, etc.
+
+11.  To-day at last I dined with Lord Mountrath, {34d} and carried Lord
+Mountjoy, and Sir Andrew Fountaine with me; and was looking over them at
+ombre till eleven this evening like a fool: they played running ombre
+half-crowns; and Sir Andrew Fountaine won eight guineas of Mr. Coote;
+{34e} so I am come home late, and will say but little to MD this night.
+I have gotten half a bushel of coals, and Patrick, the extravagant whelp,
+had a fire ready for me; but I picked off the coals before I went to bed.
+It is a sign London is now an empty place, when it will not furnish me
+with matter for above five or six lines in a day.  Did you smoke in my
+last how I told you the very day and the place you were playing at ombre?
+But I interlined and altered a little, after I had received a letter from
+Mr. Manley, that said you were at it in his house, while he was writing
+to me; but without his help I guessed within one day.  Your town is
+certainly much more sociable than ours.  I have not seen your mother yet,
+etc.
+
+12.  I dined to-day with Dr. Garth and Mr. Addison, at the Devil Tavern
+{35a} by Temple Bar, and Garth treated; and ’tis well I dine every day,
+else I should be longer making out my letters: for we are yet in a very
+dull state, only inquiring every day after new elections, where the
+Tories carry it among the new members six to one.  Mr. Addison’s election
+{35b} has passed easy and undisputed; and I believe if he had a mind to
+be chosen king, he would hardly be refused.  An odd accident has happened
+at Colchester: one Captain Lavallin, {35c} coming from Flanders or Spain,
+found his wife with child by a clerk of Doctors’ Commons, whose trade,
+you know, it is to prevent fornications: and this clerk was the very same
+fellow that made the discovery of Dyot’s {35d} counterfeiting the
+stamp-paper.  Lavallin has been this fortnight hunting after the clerk,
+to kill him; but the fellow was constantly employed at the Treasury,
+about the discovery he made: the wife had made a shift to patch up the
+business, alleging that the clerk had told her her husband was dead and
+other excuses; but t’other day somebody told Lavallin his wife had
+intrigues before he married her: upon which he goes down in a rage,
+shoots his wife through the head, then falls on his sword; and, to make
+the matter sure, at the same time discharges a pistol through his own
+head, and died on the spot, his wife surviving him about two hours, but
+in what circumstances of mind and body is terrible to imagine.  I have
+finished my poem on the “Shower,” all but the beginning; and am going on
+with my _Tatler_.  They have fixed about fifty things on me since I came:
+I have printed but three. {36a} One advantage I get by writing to you
+daily, or rather you get, is, that I shall remember not to write the same
+things twice; and yet, I fear, I have done it often already: but I will
+mind and confine myself to the accidents of the day; and so get you gone
+to ombre, and be good girls, and save your money, and be rich against
+Presto comes, and write to me now and then: I am thinking it would be a
+pretty thing to hear sometimes from saucy MD; but do not hurt your eyes,
+Stella, I charge you.
+
+13.  O Lord, here is but a trifle of my letter written yet; what shall
+Presto do for prattle-prattle, to entertain MD?  The talk now grows
+fresher of the Duke of Ormond for Ireland; though Mr. Addison says he
+hears it will be in commission, and Lord Galway {36b} one.  These letters
+of mine are a sort of journal, where matters open by degrees; and, as I
+tell true or false, you will find by the event whether my intelligence be
+good; but I do not care twopence whether it be or no.—At night.  To-day I
+was all about St. Paul’s, and up at the top like a fool, with Sir Andrew
+Fountaine and two more; and spent seven shillings for my dinner like a
+puppy: this is the second time he has served me so; but I will never do
+it again, though all mankind should persuade me, unconsidering puppies!
+There is a young fellow here in town we are all fond of, and about a year
+or two come from the University, one Harrison, {36c} a little pretty
+fellow, with a great deal of wit, good sense, and good nature; has
+written some mighty pretty things; that in your 6th _Miscellanea_, {37a}
+about the Sprig of an Orange, is his: he has nothing to live on but being
+governor to one of the Duke of Queensberry’s {37b} sons for forty pounds
+a year.  The fine fellows are always inviting him to the tavern, and make
+him pay his club.  Henley {37c} is a great crony of his: they are often
+at the tavern at six or seven shillings reckoning, and he always makes
+the poor lad pay his full share.  A colonel and a lord were at him and me
+the same way to-night: I absolutely refused, and made Harrison lag
+behind, and persuaded him not to go to them.  I tell you this, because I
+find all rich fellows have that humour of using all people without any
+consideration of their fortunes; but I will see them rot before they
+shall serve me so.  Lord Halifax is always teasing me to go down to his
+country house, which will cost me a guinea to his servants, and twelve
+shillings coach-hire; and he shall be hanged first.  Is not this a plaguy
+silly story?  But I am vexed at the heart; for I love the young fellow,
+and am resolved to stir up people to do something for him: he is a Whig,
+and I will put him upon some of my cast Whigs; for I have done with them;
+and they have, I hope, done with this kingdom for our time.  They were
+sure of the four members for London above all places, and they have lost
+three in the four. {37d}  Sir Richard Onslow, {37e} we hear, has lost for
+Surrey; and they are overthrown in most places.  Lookee, gentlewomen, if
+I write long letters, I must write you news and stuff, unless I send you
+my verses; and some I dare not; and those on the “Shower in London” I
+have sent to the _Tatler_, and you may see them in Ireland.  I fancy you
+will smoke me in the _Tatler_ I am going to write; for I believe I have
+told you the hint.  I had a letter sent me to-night from Sir Matthew
+Dudley, and found it on my table when I came in.  Because it is
+extraordinary, I will transcribe it from beginning to end.  It is as
+follows: “Is the Devil in you?  Oct. 13, 1710.”  I would have answered
+every particular passage in it, only I wanted time.  Here is enough for
+to-night, such as it is, etc.
+
+14.  Is that tobacco at the top of the paper, {38a} or what?  I do not
+remember I slobbered.  Lord, I dreamt of Stella, etc., so confusedly last
+night, and that we saw Dean Bolton {38b} and Sterne {38c} go into a shop:
+and she bid me call them to her, and they proved to be two parsons I know
+not; and I walked without till she was shifting, and such stuff, mixed
+with much melancholy and uneasiness, and things not as they should be,
+and I know not how: and it is now an ugly gloomy morning.—At night.  Mr.
+Addison and I dined with Ned Southwell, and walked in the Park; and at
+the Coffee-house I found a letter from the Bishop of Clogher, and a
+packet from MD.  I opened the Bishop’s letter; but put up MD’s, and
+visited a lady just come to town; and am now got into bed, and going to
+open your little letter: and God send I may find MD well, and happy, and
+merry, and that they love Presto as they do fires.  Oh, I will not open
+it yet! yes I will! no I will not!  I am going; I cannot stay till I turn
+over. {39a}  What shall I do?  My fingers itch; and now I have it in my
+left hand; and now I will open it this very moment.—I have just got it,
+and am cracking the seal, and cannot imagine what is in it; I fear only
+some letter from a bishop, and it comes too late; I shall employ nobody’s
+credit but my own.  Well, I see though—  Pshaw, ’tis from Sir Andrew
+Fountaine.  What, another!  I fancy that’s from Mrs. Barton; {39b} she
+told me she would write to me; but she writes a better hand than this: I
+wish you would inquire; it must be at Dawson’s {39c} office at the
+Castle.  I fear this is from Patty Rolt, by the scrawl.  Well, I will
+read MD’s letter.  Ah, no; it is from poor Lady Berkeley, to invite me to
+Berkeley Castle this winter; and now it grieves my heart: she says, she
+hopes my lord is in a fair way of recovery; {39d} poor lady! Well, now I
+go to MD’s letter: faith, it is all right; I hoped it was wrong.  Your
+letter, N. 3, that I have now received, is dated Sept. 26; and Manley’s
+letter, that I had five days ago, was dated Oct. 3, that’s a fortnight
+difference: I doubt it has lain in Steele’s office, and he forgot.  Well,
+there’s an end of that: he is turned out of his place; {39e} and you must
+desire those who send me packets, to enclose them in a paper directed to
+Mr. Addison, at St. James’s Coffee-house: not common letters, but
+packets: the Bishop of Clogher may mention it to the Archbishop when he
+sees him.  As for your letter, it makes me mad: slidikins, I have been
+the best boy in Christendom, and you come with your two eggs a
+penny.—Well; but stay, I will look over my book: adad, I think there was
+a chasm between my N. 2 and N. 3.  Faith, I will not promise to write to
+you every week; but I will write every night, and when it is full I will
+send it; that will be once in ten days, and that will be often enough:
+and if you begin to take up the way of writing to Presto, only because it
+is Tuesday, a Monday bedad it will grow a task; but write when you have a
+mind.—No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—Agad, agad, agad, agad, agad, agad;
+no, poor Stellakins. {40a}  Slids, I would the horse were in
+your—chamber!  Have not I ordered Parvisol to obey your directions about
+him?  And han’t I said in my former letters that you may pickle him, and
+boil him, if you will?  What do you trouble me about your horses for?
+Have I anything to do with them?—Revolutions a hindrance to me in my
+business?  Revolutions to me in my business?  If it were not for the
+revolutions, I could do nothing at all; and now I have all hopes
+possible, though one is certain of nothing; but to-morrow I am to have an
+answer, and am promised an effectual one.  I suppose I have said enough
+in this and a former letter how I stand with new people; ten times better
+than ever I did with the old; forty times more caressed.  I am to dine
+to-morrow at Mr. Harley’s; and if he continues as he has begun, no man
+has been ever better treated by another.  What you say about Stella’s
+mother, I have spoken enough to it already.  I believe she is not in
+town; for I have not yet seen her.  My lampoon is cried up to the skies;
+but nobody suspects me for it, except Sir Andrew Fountaine: at least they
+say nothing of it to me.  Did not I tell you of a great man who received
+me very coldly? {40b}  That’s he; but say nothing; ’twas only a little
+revenge.  I will remember to bring it over.  The Bishop of Clogher has
+smoked my _Tatler_, {40c} about shortening of words, etc.  But, God So!
+{40d} etc.
+
+15.  I will write plainer if I can remember it; for Stella must not spoil
+her eyes, and Dingley can’t read my hand very well; and I am afraid my
+letters are too long: then you must suppose one to be two, and read them
+at twice.  I dined to-day with Mr. Harley: Mr. Prior {41a} dined with us.
+He has left my memorial with the Queen, who has consented to give the
+First-Fruits and Twentieth Parts, {41b} and will, we hope, declare it
+to-morrow in the Cabinet.  But I beg you to tell it to no person alive;
+for so I am ordered, till in public: and I hope to get something of
+greater value.  After dinner came in Lord Peterborow: {41c} we renewed
+our acquaintance, and he grew mightily fond of me.  They began to talk of
+a paper of verses called “Sid Hamet.”  Mr. Harley repeated part, and then
+pulled them out, and gave them to a gentleman at the table to read,
+though they had all read them often.  Lord Peterborow would let nobody
+read them but himself: so he did; and Mr. Harley bobbed {41d} me at every
+line, to take notice of the beauties.  Prior rallied Lord Peterborow for
+author of them; and Lord Peterborow said he knew them to be his; and
+Prior then turned it upon me, and I on him.  I am not guessed at all in
+town to be the author; yet so it is: but that is a secret only to you.
+{41e}  Ten to one whether you see them in Ireland; yet here they run
+prodigiously.  Harley presented me to Lord President of Scotland, {41f}
+and Mr. Benson, {41g} Lord of the Treasury.  Prior and I came away at
+nine, and sat at the Smyrna {42a} till eleven, receiving acquaintance.
+
+16.  This morning early I went in a chair, and Patrick before it, to Mr.
+Harley, to give him another copy of my memorial, as he desired; but he
+was full of business, going to the Queen, and I could not see him; but he
+desired I would send up the paper, and excused himself upon his hurry.  I
+was a little baulked; but they tell me it is nothing.  I shall judge by
+next visit.  I tipped his porter with half a crown; and so I am well
+there for a time at least.  I dined at Stratford’s in the City, and had
+Burgundy and Tokay: came back afoot like a scoundrel: then went with Mr.
+Addison and supped with Lord Mountjoy, which made me sick all night.  I
+forgot that I bought six pounds of chocolate for Stella, and a little
+wooden box; and I have a great piece of Brazil tobacco for Dingley, {42b}
+and a bottle of palsy-water {42c} for Stella: all which, with the two
+handkerchiefs that Mr. Sterne has bought, and you must pay him for, will
+be put in the box, directed to Mrs. Curry’s, and sent by Dr. Hawkshaw,
+{42d} whom I have not seen; but Sterne has undertaken it.  The chocolate
+is a present, madam, for Stella.  Don’t read this, you little rogue, with
+your little eyes; but give it to Dingley, pray now; and I will write as
+plain as the skies: and let Dingley write Stella’s part, and Stella
+dictate to her, when she apprehends her eyes, etc.
+
+17.  This letter should have gone this post, if I had not been taken up
+with business, and two nights being late out; so it must stay till
+Thursday.  I dined to-day with your Mr. Sterne, {43a} by invitation, and
+drank Irish wine; {43b} but, before we parted, there came in the prince
+of puppies, Colonel Edgworth; {43c} so I went away.  This day came out
+the _Tatler_, made up wholly of my “Shower,” and a preface to it.  They
+say it is the best thing I ever writ, and I think so too.  I suppose the
+Bishop of Clogher will show it you.  Pray tell me how you like it.  Tooke
+is going on with my _Miscellany_. {43d}  I’d give a penny the letter to
+the Bishop of Killaloe {43e} was in it: ’twould do him honour.  Could not
+you contrive to say, you hear they are printing my things together; and
+that you with the bookseller had that letter among the rest: but don’t
+say anything of it as from me.  I forget whether it was good or no; but
+only having heard it much commended, perhaps it may deserve it.  Well, I
+have to-morrow to finish this letter in, and then I will send it next
+day.  I am so vexed that you should write your third to me, when you had
+but my second, and I had written five, which now I hope you have all: and
+so I tell you, you are saucy, little, pretty, dear rogues, etc.
+
+18.  To-day I dined, by invitation, with Stratford and others, at a young
+merchant’s in the City, with Hermitage and Tokay, and stayed till nine,
+and am now come home.  And that dog Patrick is abroad, and drinking, and
+I cannot I get my night-gown.  I have a mind to turn that puppy away: he
+has been drunk ten times in three weeks.  But I han’t time to say more;
+so good-night, etc.
+
+19.  I am come home from dining in the city with Mr. Addison, at a
+merchant’s; and just now, at the Coffee-house, we have notice that the
+Duke of Ormond was this day declared Lord Lieutenant at Hampton Court, in
+Council.  I have not seen Mr. Harley since; but hope the affair is done
+about First-Fruits.  I will see him, if possible, to-morrow morning; but
+this goes to-night.  I have sent a box to Mr. Sterne, to send to you by
+some friend: I have directed it for Mr. Curry, at his house; so you have
+warning when it comes, as I hope it will soon.  The handkerchiefs will be
+put in some friend’s pocket, not to pay custom.  And so here ends my
+sixth, sent when I had but three of MD’s: now I am beforehand, and will
+keep so; and God Almighty bless dearest MD, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER VII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Oct._ 19, 1710.
+
+FAITH, I am undone! this paper is larger than the other, and yet I am
+condemned to a sheet; but, since it is MD, I did not value though I were
+condemned to a pair.  I told you in my letter to-day where I had been,
+and how the day passed; and so, etc.
+
+20.  To-day I went to Mr. Lewis, at the Secretary’s office, to know when
+I might see Mr. Harley; and by and by comes up Mr. Harley himself, and
+appoints me to dine with him to-morrow.  I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh,
+{44a} and went to wait on the two Lady Butlers; {44b} but the porter
+answered they were not at home: the meaning was, the youngest, Lady Mary,
+is to be married to-morrow to Lord Ashburnham, {44c} the best match now
+in England, twelve thousand pounds a year, and abundance of money.  Tell
+me how my “Shower” is liked in Ireland: I never knew anything pass better
+here.  I spent the evening with Wortley Montagu {45a} and Mr. Addison,
+over a bottle of Irish wine.  Do they know anything in Ireland of my
+greatness among the Tories?  Everybody reproaches me of it here; but I
+value them not.  Have you heard of the verses about the “Rod of Sid
+Hamet”?  Say nothing of them for your life.  Hardly anybody suspects me
+for them; only they think nobody but Prior or I could write them.  But I
+doubt they have not reached you.  There is likewise a ballad full of puns
+on the Westminster Election, {45b} that cost me half an hour: it runs,
+though it be good for nothing.  But this is likewise a secret to all but
+MD.  If you have them not, I will bring them over.
+
+21.  I got MD’s fourth to-day at the Coffee-house.  God Almighty bless
+poor, dear Stella, and her eyes and head!  What shall we do to cure them?
+poor, dear life!  Your disorders are a pull-back for your good qualities.
+Would to Heaven I were this minute shaving your poor, dear head, either
+here or there!  Pray do not write, nor read this letter, nor anything
+else; and I will write plainer for Dingley to read from henceforward,
+though my pen is apt to ramble when I think whom I am writing to.  I will
+not answer your letter until I tell you that I dined this day with Mr.
+Harley, who presented me to the Earl of Stirling, {45c} a Scotch lord;
+and in the evening came in Lord Peterborow.  I stayed till nine before
+Mr. Harley would let me go, or tell me anything of my affair.  He says
+the Queen has now granted the First-Fruits and Twentieth Parts; but he
+will not give me leave to write to the Archbishop, because the Queen
+designs to signify it to the Bishops in Ireland in form; and to take
+notice, that it was done upon a memorial from me; which, Mr. Harley tells
+me he does to make it look more respectful to me, etc.; and I am to see
+him on Tuesday.  I know not whether I told you that, in my memorial which
+was given to the Queen, I begged for two thousand pounds a year more,
+though it was not in my commission; but that, Mr. Harley says, cannot yet
+be done, and that he and I must talk of it further: however, I have
+started it, and it may follow in time.  Pray say nothing of the
+First-Fruits being granted, unless I give leave at the bottom of this.  I
+believe never anything was compassed so soon, and purely done by my
+personal credit with Mr. Harley, who is so excessively obliging, that I
+know not what to make of it, unless to show the rascals of the other
+party that they used a man unworthily who had deserved better.  The
+memorial given to the Queen from me speaks with great plainness of Lord
+Wharton.  I believe this business is as important to you as the
+Convocation disputes from Tisdall. {46}  I hope in a month or two all the
+forms of settling this matter will be over; and then I shall have nothing
+to do here.  I will only add one foolish thing more, because it is just
+come into my head.  When this thing is made known, tell me impartially
+whether they give any of the merit to me, or no; for I am sure I have so
+much, that I will never take it upon me.—Insolent sluts! because I say
+Dublin, Ireland, therefore you must say London, England: that is Stella’s
+malice.—Well, for that I will not answer your letter till to-morrow-day,
+and so and so: I will go write something else, and it will not be much;
+for ’tis late.
+
+22.  I was this morning with Mr. Lewis, the under-secretary to Lord
+Dartmouth, two hours, talking politics, and contriving to keep Steele in
+his office of stamped paper: he has lost his place of Gazetteer, three
+hundred pounds a year, for writing a _Tatler_, {47a} some months ago,
+against Mr. Harley, who gave it him at first, and raised the salary from
+sixty to three hundred pounds.  This was devilish ungrateful; and Lewis
+was telling me the particulars: but I had a hint given me, that I might
+save him in the other employment: and leave was given me to clear matters
+with Steele.  Well, I dined with Sir Matthew Dudley, and in the evening
+went to sit with Mr. Addison, and offer the matter at distance to him, as
+the discreeter person; but found party had so possessed him, that he
+talked as if he suspected me, and would not fall in with anything I said.
+So I stopped short in my overture, and we parted very drily; and I shall
+say nothing to Steele, and let them do as they will; but, if things stand
+as they are, he will certainly lose it, unless I save him; and therefore
+I will not speak to him, that I may not report to his disadvantage.  Is
+not this vexatious? and is there so much in the proverb of proffered
+service?  When shall I grow wise?  I endeavour to act in the most exact
+points of honour and conscience; and my nearest friends will not
+understand it so.  What must a man expect from his enemies?  This would
+vex me, but it shall not; and so I bid you good-night, etc.
+
+23.  I know ’tis neither wit nor diversion to tell you every day where I
+dine; neither do I write it to fill my letter; but I fancy I shall, some
+time or other, have the curiosity of seeing some particulars how I passed
+my life when I was absent from MD this time; and so I tell you now that I
+dined to-day at Molesworth’s, the Florence Envoy, then went to the
+Coffee-house, where I behaved myself coldly enough to Mr. Addison, and so
+came home to scribble.  We dine together to-morrow and next day by
+invitation; but I shall alter my behaviour to him, till he begs my
+pardon, or else we shall grow bare acquaintance.  I am weary of friends;
+and friendships are all monsters, but MD’s.
+
+24.  I forgot to tell you, that last night I went to Mr. Harley’s,
+hoping—faith, I am blundering, for it was this very night at six; and I
+hoped he would have told me all things were done and granted: but he was
+abroad, and came home ill, and was gone to bed, much out of order, unless
+the porter lied.  I dined to-day at Sir Matthew Dudley’s, with Mr.
+Addison, etc.
+
+25.  I was to-day to see the Duke of Ormond; and, coming out, met Lord
+Berkeley of Stratton, {48a} who told me that Mrs. Temple, {48b} the
+widow, died last Saturday, which, I suppose, is much to the outward grief
+and inward joy of the family.  I dined to-day with Addison and Steele,
+and a sister of Mr. Addison, who is married to one Mons. Sartre, {48c} a
+Frenchman, prebendary of Westminster, who has a delicious house and
+garden; yet I thought it was a sort of monastic life in those cloisters,
+and I liked Laracor better.  Addison’s sister is a sort of a wit, very
+like him.  I am not fond of her, etc.
+
+26.  I was to-day to see Mr. Congreve, {48d} who is almost blind with
+cataracts growing on his eyes; and his case is, that he must wait two or
+three years, until the cataracts are riper, and till he is quite blind,
+and then he must have them couched; and, besides, he is never rid of the
+gout, yet he looks young and fresh, and is as cheerful as ever.  He is
+younger by three years or more than I; and I am twenty years younger than
+he.  He gave me a pain in the great toe, by mentioning the gout.  I find
+such suspicions frequently, but they go off again.  I had a second letter
+from Mr. Morgan, {49a} for which I thank you: I wish you were whipped,
+for forgetting to send him that answer I desired you in one of my former,
+that I could do nothing for him of what he desired, having no credit at
+all, etc.  Go, be far enough, you negligent baggages.  I have had also a
+letter from Parvisol, with an account how my livings are set; and that
+they are fallen, since last year, sixty pounds.  A comfortable piece of
+news!  He tells me plainly that he finds you have no mind to part with
+the horse, because you sent for him at the same time you sent him my
+letter; so that I know not what must be done.  It is a sad thing that
+Stella must have her own horse, whether Parvisol will or no.  So now to
+answer your letter that I had three or four days ago.  I am not now in
+bed, but am come home by eight; and, it being warm, I write up.  I never
+writ to the Bishop of Killala, which, I suppose, was the reason he had
+not my letter.  I have not time, there is the short of it.—As fond as the
+Dean {49b} is of my letter, he has not written to me.  I would only know
+whether Dean Bolton {49c} paid him the twenty pounds; and for the rest,
+he may kiss—And that you may ask him, because I am in pain about it, that
+Dean Bolton is such a whipster.  ’Tis the most obliging thing in the
+world in Dean Sterne to be so kind to you.  I believe he knows it will
+please me, and makes up, that way, his other usage. {49d}  No, we have
+had none of your snow, but a little one morning; yet I think it was great
+snow for an hour or so, but no longer.  I had heard of Will Crowe’s {49e}
+death before, but not the foolish circumstance that hastened his end.
+No, I have taken care that Captain Pratt {50a} shall not suffer by Lord
+Anglesea’s death. {50b}  I will try some contrivance to get a copy of my
+picture from Jervas.  I will make Sir Andrew Fountaine buy one as for
+himself, and I will pay him again, and take it, that is, provided I have
+money to spare when I leave this.—Poor John! is he gone? and Madam
+Parvisol {50c} has been in town! Humm.  Why, Tighe {50d} and I, when he
+comes, shall not take any notice of each other; I would not do it much in
+this town, though we had not fallen out.—I was to-day at Mr. Sterne’s
+lodging: he was not within; and Mr. Leigh is not come to town; but I will
+do Dingley’s errand when I see him.  What do I know whether china be dear
+or no?  I once took a fancy of resolving to grow mad for it, but now it
+is off; I suppose I told you in some former letter.  And so you only want
+some salad-dishes, and plates, and etc.  Yes, yes, you shall.  I suppose
+you have named as much as will cost five pounds.—Now to Stella’s little
+postscript; and I am almost crazed that you vex yourself for not writing.
+Cannot you dictate to Dingley, and not strain your little, dear eyes?  I
+am sure it is the grief of my soul to think you are out of order.  Pray
+be quiet; and, if you will write, shut your eyes, and write just a line,
+and no more, thus, “How do you do, Mrs. Stella?”  That was written with
+my eyes shut.  Faith, I think it is better than when they are open: and
+then Dingley may stand by, and tell you when you go too high or too
+low.—My letters of business, with packets, if there be any more occasion
+for such, must be enclosed to Mr. Addison, at St. James’s Coffee-house:
+but I hope to hear, as soon as I see Mr. Harley, that the main
+difficulties are over, and that the rest will be but form.—Take two or
+three nutgalls, take two or three—galls, stop your receipt in your—I have
+no need on’t.  Here is a clutter!  Well, so much for your letter, which I
+will now put up in my letter-partition in my cabinet, as I always do
+every letter as soon as I answer it.  Method is good in all things.
+Order governs the world.  The Devil is the author of confusion.  A
+general of an army, a minister of state; to descend lower, a gardener, a
+weaver, etc.  That may make a fine observation, if you think it worth
+finishing; but I have not time.  Is not this a terrible long piece for
+one evening?  I dined to-day with Patty Rolt at my cousin Leach’s, {51a}
+with a pox, in the City: he is a printer, and prints the _Postman_, oh
+hoo, and is my cousin, God knows how, and he married Mrs. Baby Aires of
+Leicester; and my cousin Thomson was with us: and my cousin Leach offers
+to bring me acquainted with the author of the _Postman_; {51b} and says
+he does not doubt but the gentleman will be glad of my acquaintance; and
+that he is a very ingenious man, and a great scholar, and has been beyond
+sea.  But I was modest and said, may be the gentleman was shy, and not
+fond of new acquaintance; and so put it off: and I wish you could hear me
+repeating all I have said of this in its proper tone, just as I am
+writing it.  It is all with the same cadence with “Oh hoo,” or as when
+little girls say, “I have got an apple, miss, and I won’t give you some.”
+It is plaguy twelvepenny weather this last week, and has cost me ten
+shillings in coach and chair hire.  If the fellow that has your money
+will pay it, let me beg you to buy Bank Stock with it, which is fallen
+near thirty per cent. and pays eight pounds per cent. and you have the
+principal when you please: it will certainly soon rise.  I would to God
+Lady Giffard would put in the four hundred pounds she owes you, {51c} and
+take the five per cent. common interest, and give you the remainder.  I
+will speak to your mother about it when I see her.  I am resolved to buy
+three hundred pounds of it for myself, and take up what I have in
+Ireland; and I have a contrivance for it, that I hope will do, by making
+a friend of mine buy it as for himself, and I will pay him when I can get
+in my money.  I hope Stratford will do me that kindness.  I’ll ask him
+to-morrow or next day.
+
+27.  Mr. Rowe {52a} the poet desired me to dine with him to-day.  I went
+to his office (he is under-secretary in Mr. Addison’s place that he had
+in England), and there was Mr. Prior; and they both fell commending my
+“Shower” beyond anything that has been written of the kind: there never
+was such a “Shower” since Danae’s, etc.  You must tell me how it is liked
+among you.  I dined with Rowe; Prior could not come: and after dinner we
+went to a blind tavern, {52b} where Congreve, Sir Richard Temple, {52c}
+Estcourt, {52d} and Charles Main, {52e} were over a bowl of bad punch.
+The knight sent for six flasks of his own wine for me, and we stayed till
+twelve.  But now my head continues pretty well; I have left off my
+drinking, and only take a spoonful mixed with water, for fear of the
+gout, or some ugly distemper; and now, because it is late, I will, etc.
+
+28.  Garth and Addison and I dined to-day at a hedge {52f} tavern; then I
+went to Mr. Harley, but he was denied, or not at home: so I fear I shall
+not hear my business is done before this goes.  Then I visited Lord
+Pembroke, {52g} who is just come to town; and we were very merry talking
+of old things; and I hit him with one pun.  Then I went to see the Ladies
+Butler, and the son of a whore of a porter denied them: so I sent them a
+threatening message by another lady, for not excepting me always to the
+porter.  I was weary of the Coffee-house, and Ford {53a} desired me to
+sit with him at next door; which I did, like a fool, chatting till
+twelve, and now am got into bed.  I am afraid the new Ministry is at a
+terrible loss about money: the Whigs talk so, it would give one the
+spleen; and I am afraid of meeting Mr. Harley out of humour.  They think
+he will never carry through this undertaking.  God knows what will come
+of it.  I should be terribly vexed to see things come round again: it
+will ruin the Church and clergy for ever; but I hope for better.  I will
+send this on Tuesday, whether I hear any further news of my affair or
+not.
+
+29.  Mr. Addison and I dined to-day with Lord Mountjoy; which is all the
+adventures of this day.—I chatted a while to-night in the Coffee-house,
+this being a full night; and now am come home, to write some business.
+
+30.  I dined to-day at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and sent a letter to poor Mrs.
+Long, {53b} who writes to us, but is God knows where, and will not tell
+anybody the place of her residence.  I came home early, and must go
+write.
+
+31.  The month ends with a fine day; and I have been walking, and
+visiting Lewis, and concerting where to see Mr. Harley.  I have no news
+to send you.  Aire, {53c} they say, is taken, though the Whitehall
+letters this morning say quite the contrary: ’tis good, if it be true.  I
+dined with Mr. Addison and Dick Stewart, Lord Mountjoy’s brother; {53d} a
+treat of Addison’s.  They were half-fuddled, but not I; for I mixed water
+with my wine, and left them together between nine and ten; and I must
+send this by the bellman, which vexes me, but I will put it off no
+longer.  Pray God it does not miscarry.  I seldom do so; but I can put
+off little MD no longer.  Pray give the under note to Mrs. Brent.
+
+I am a pretty gentleman; and you lose all your money at cards, sirrah
+Stella.  I found you out; I did so.
+
+I am staying before I can fold up this letter, till that ugly D is dry in
+the last line but one.  Do not you see it?  O Lord, I am loth to leave
+you, faith—but it must be so, till the next time.  Pox take that D; I
+will blot it, to dry it.
+
+
+
+LETTER VIII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Oct._ 31, 1710.
+
+SO, now I have sent my seventh to your fourth, young women; and now I
+will tell you what I would not in my last, that this morning, sitting in
+my bed, I had a fit of giddiness: the room turned round for about a
+minute, and then it went off, leaving me sickish, but not very: and so I
+passed the day as I told you; but I would not end a letter with telling
+you this, because it might vex you: and I hope in God I shall have no
+more of it.  I saw Dr. Cockburn {54a} to-day, and he promises to send me
+the pills that did me good last year; and likewise has promised me an oil
+for my ear, that he has been making for that ailment for somebody else.
+
+Nov. 1.  I wish MD a merry new year.  You know this is the first day of
+it with us. {54b}  I had no giddiness to-day; but I drank brandy, and
+have bought a pint for two shillings.  I sat up the night before my
+giddiness pretty late, and writ very much; so I will impute it to that.
+But I never eat fruit, nor drink ale; but drink better wine than you do,
+as I did to-day with Mr. Addison at Lord Mountjoy’s: then went at five to
+see Mr. Harley, who could not see me for much company; but sent me his
+excuse, and desired I would dine with him on Friday; and then I expect
+some answer to this business, which must either be soon done, or begun
+again; and then the Duke of Ormond and his people will interfere for
+their honour, and do nothing.  I came home at six, and spent my time in
+my chamber, without going to the Coffee-house, which I grow weary of; and
+I studied at leisure, writ not above forty lines, some inventions of my
+own, and some hints, and read not at all, and this because I would take
+care of Presto, for fear little MD should be angry.
+
+2.  I took my four pills last night, and they lay an hour in my throat,
+and so they will do to-night.  I suppose I could swallow four affronts as
+easily.  I dined with Dr. Cockburn to-day, and came home at seven; but
+Mr. Ford has been with me till just now, and it is near eleven.  I have
+had no giddiness to-day.  Mr. Dopping {55a} I have seen; and he tells me
+coldly, my “Shower” is liked well enough; there’s your Irish judgment!  I
+writ this post to the Bishop of Clogher.  It is now just a fortnight
+since I heard from you.  I must have you write once a fortnight, and then
+I will allow for wind and weather.  How goes ombre?  Does Mrs. Walls
+{55b} win constantly, as she used to do?  And Mrs. Stoyte; {55c} I have
+not thought of her this long time: how does she?  I find we have a cargo
+of Irish coming for London: I am sorry for it; but I never go near them.
+And Tighe is landed; but Mrs. Wesley, {55d} they say, is going home to
+her husband, like a fool.  Well, little monkeys mine, I must go write;
+and so good-night.
+
+3.  I ought to read these letters I write, after I have done; for,
+looking over thus much, I found two or three literal mistakes, which
+should not be when the hand is so bad.  But I hope it does not puzzle
+little Dingley to read, for I think I mend: but methinks, when I write
+plain, I do not know how, but we are not alone, all the world can see us.
+A bad scrawl is so snug, it looks like a PMD. {56a}  We have scurvy
+_Tatlers_ of late: so pray do not suspect me.  I have one or two hints I
+design to send him, and never any more: he does not deserve it.  He is
+governed by his wife most abominably, {56b} as bad as —.  I never saw her
+since I came; nor has he ever made me an invitation: either he dares not,
+or is such a thoughtless Tisdall {56c} fellow, that he never minds {56d}
+it.  So what care I for his wit? for he is the worst company in the
+world, till he has a bottle of wine in his head.  I cannot write
+straighter in bed, so you must be content.—At night in bed.  Stay, let me
+see where’s this letter to MD among these papers?  Oh! here.  Well, I
+will go on now; but I am very busy (smoke the new pen.)  I dined with Mr.
+Harley to-day, and am invited there again on Sunday.  I have now leave to
+write to the Primate and Archbishop of Dublin, that the Queen has granted
+the First-Fruits; but they are to take no notice of it, till a letter is
+sent them by the Queen’s orders from Lord Dartmouth, Secretary of State,
+to signify it.  The bishops are to be made a corporation, to dispose of
+the revenue, etc.; and I shall write to the Archbishop of Dublin
+to-morrow (I have had no giddiness to-day).  I know not whether they will
+have any occasion for me longer to be here; nor can I judge till I see
+what letter the Queen sends to the bishops, and what they will do upon
+it.  If despatch be used, it may be done in six weeks; but I cannot
+judge.  They sent me to-day a new Commission, signed by the Primate and
+Archbishop of Dublin, {57a} and promise me letters to the two archbishops
+here; but mine a — for it all.  The thing is done, and has been so these
+ten days; though I had only leave to tell it to-day.  I had this day
+likewise a letter from the Bishop of Clogher, who complains of my not
+writing; and, what vexes me, says he knows you have long letters from me
+every week.  Why do you tell him so?  ’Tis not right, faith: but I won’t
+be angry with MD at distance.  I writ to him last post, before I had his;
+and will write again soon, since I see he expects it, and that Lord and
+Lady Mountjoy {57b} put him off upon me, to give themselves ease.
+Lastly, I had this day a letter from a certain naughty rogue called MD,
+and it was N. 5; which I shall not answer to-night, I thank you.  No,
+faith, I have other fish to fry; but to-morrow or next day will be time
+enough.  I have put MD’s commissions in a memorandum paper.  I think I
+have done all before, and remember nothing but this to-day about glasses
+and spectacles and spectacle cases.  I have no commission from Stella,
+but the chocolate and handkerchiefs; and those are bought, and I expect
+they will be soon sent.  I have been with, and sent to, Mr. Sterne, two
+or three times to know; but he was not within.  Odds my life, what am I
+doing?  I must go write and do business.
+
+4.  I dined to-day at Kensington, with Addison, Steele, etc., came home,
+and writ a short letter to the Archbishop of Dublin, to let him know the
+Queen has granted the thing, etc.  I writ in the Coffee-house, for I
+stayed at Kensington till nine, and am plaguy weary; for Colonel Proud
+{58a} was very ill company, and I will never be of a party with him
+again; and I drank punch, and that and ill company has made me hot.
+
+5.  I was with Mr. Harley from dinner to seven this night, and went to
+the Coffee-house, where Dr. Davenant {58b} would fain have had me gone
+and drink a bottle of wine at his house hard by, with Dr. Chamberlen,
+{58c} but the puppy used so many words, that I was afraid of his company;
+and though we promised to come at eight, I sent a messenger to him, that
+Chamberlen was going to a patient, and therefore we would put it off till
+another time: so he, and the Comptroller, {58d} and I, were prevailed on
+by Sir Matthew Dudley to go to his house, where I stayed till twelve, and
+left them.  Davenant has been teasing me to look over some of his
+writings that he is going to publish; but the rogue is so fond of his own
+productions, that I hear he will not part with a syllable; and he has
+lately put out a foolish pamphlet, called _The Third Part of Tom Double_;
+to make his court to the Tories, whom he had left.
+
+6.  I was to-day gambling {59a} in the City to see Patty Rolt, who is
+going to Kingston, where she lodges; but, to say the truth, I had a mind
+for a walk to exercise myself, and happened to be disengaged: for dinners
+are ten times more plentiful with me here than ever, or than in Dublin.
+I won’t answer your letter yet, because I am busy.  I hope to send this
+before I have another from MD: it would be a sad thing to answer two
+letters together, as MD does from Presto.  But when the two sides are
+full, away the letter shall go, that is certain, like it or not like it;
+and that will be about three days hence, for the answering-night will be
+a long one.
+
+7.  I dined to-day at Sir Richard Temple’s, with Congreve, Vanbrugh,
+Lieutenant-General Farrington, {59b} etc.  Vanbrugh, I believe I told
+you, had a long quarrel with me about those verses on his house; {59c}
+but we were very civil and cold.  Lady Marlborough used to tease him with
+them, which had made him angry, though he be a good-natured fellow.  It
+was a Thanksgiving-day, {59d} and I was at Court, where the Queen passed
+us by with all Tories about her; not one Whig: Buckingham, {60a}
+Rochester, {60b} Leeds, {60c} Shrewsbury, {60d} Berkeley of Stratton,
+{60e} Lord Keeper Harcourt, {60f} Mr. Harley, Lord Pembroke, {60g} etc.;
+and I have seen her without one Tory.  The Queen made me a curtsey, and
+said, in a sort of familiar way to Presto, “How does MD?”  I considered
+she was a Queen, and so excused her. {60h}  I do not miss the Whigs at
+Court; but have as many acquaintance there as formerly.
+
+8.  Here’s ado and a clutter!  I must now answer MD’s fifth; but first
+you must know I dined at the Portugal Envoy’s {60i} to-day, with Addison,
+Vanbrugh, Admiral Wager, {60j} Sir Richard Temple, {60k} Methuen, {60l}
+etc.  I was weary of their company, and stole away at five, and came home
+like a good boy, and studied till ten, and had a fire, O ho! and now am
+in bed.  I have no fireplace in my bed-chamber; but ’tis very warm
+weather when one’s in bed.  Your fine cap, {60m} Madam Dingley, is too
+little, and too hot: I will have that fur taken off; I wish it were far
+enough; and my old velvet cap is good for nothing.  Is it velvet under
+the fur?  I was feeling, but cannot find: if it be, ’twill do without it
+else I will face it; but then I must buy new velvet: but may be I may beg
+a piece.  What shall I do?  Well, now to rogue MD’s letter.  God be
+thanked for Stella’s eyes mending; and God send it holds; but faith you
+writ too much at a time: better write less, or write it at ten times.
+Yes, faith, a long letter in a morning from a dear friend is a dear
+thing.  I smoke a compliment, little mischievous girls, I do so.  But who
+are those _Wiggs_ that think I am turned Tory?  Do you mean Whigs?  Which
+_Wiggs_ and _wat_ do you mean?  I know nothing of Raymond, and only had
+one letter from him a little after I came here. [Pray remember Morgan.]
+Raymond is indeed like to have much influence over me in London, and to
+share much of my conversation.  I shall, no doubt, introduce him to
+Harley, and Lord Keeper, and the Secretary of State.  The _Tatler_ upon
+Ithuriel’s spear {61a} is not mine, madam.  What a puzzle there is
+betwixt you and your judgment!  In general you may be sometimes sure of
+things, as that about _style_, {61b} because it is what I have frequently
+spoken of; but guessing is mine a—, and I defy mankind, if I please.
+Why, I writ a pamphlet when I was last in London, that you and a thousand
+have seen, and never guessed it to be mine.  Could you have guessed the
+“Shower in Town” to be mine?  How chance you did not see that before your
+last letter went? but I suppose you in Ireland did not think it worth
+mentioning.  Nor am I suspected for the lampoon; only Harley said he
+smoked me; (have I told you so before?) and some others knew it.  ’Tis
+called “The Rod of Sid Hamet.”  And I have written several other things
+that I hear commended, and nobody suspects me for them; nor you shall not
+know till I see you again.  What do you mean, “That boards near me, that
+I dine with now and then?”  I know no such person: I do not dine with
+boarders. {62a}  What the pox!  You know whom I have dined with every day
+since I left you, better than I do.  What do you mean, sirrah?  Slids, my
+ailment has been over these two months almost.  Impudence, if you vex me,
+I will give ten shillings a week for my lodging; for I am almost st—k out
+of this with the sink, and it helps me to verses in my “Shower.” {62b}
+Well, Madam Dingley, what say you to the world to come?  What ballad?
+Why go look, it was not good for much: have patience till I come back:
+patience is a gay thing as, etc.  I hear nothing of Lord Mountjoy’s
+coming for Ireland.  When is Stella’s birthday? in March?  Lord bless me,
+my turn at Christ Church; {62c} it is so natural to hear you write about
+that, I believe you have done it a hundred times; it is as fresh in my
+mind, the verger coming to you; and why to you?  Would he have you preach
+for me?  O, pox on your spelling of Latin, _Johnsonibus atque_, that is
+the way.  How did the Dean get that name by the end?  ’Twas you betrayed
+me: not I, faith; I’ll not break his head.  Your mother is still in the
+country, I suppose; for she promised to see me when she came to town.  I
+writ to her four days ago, to desire her to break it to Lady Giffard, to
+put some money for you in the Bank, which was then fallen thirty per
+cent.  Would to God mine had been here, I should have gained one hundred
+pounds, and got as good interest as in Ireland, and much securer.  I
+would fain have borrowed three hundred pounds; but money is so scarce
+here, there is no borrowing, by this fall of stocks.  ’Tis rising now,
+and I knew it would: it fell from one hundred and twenty-nine to
+ninety-six.  I have not heard since from your mother.  Do you think I
+would be so unkind not to see her, that you desire me in a style so
+melancholy?  Mrs. Raymond, {63a} you say, is with child: I am sorry for
+it; and so is, I believe, her husband.  Mr. Harley speaks all the kind
+things to me in the world; and, I believe, would serve me, if I were to
+stay here; but I reckon in time the Duke of Ormond may give me some
+addition to Laracor.  Why should the Whigs think I came to England to
+leave them?  Sure my journey was no secret.  I protest sincerely, I did
+all I could to hinder it, as the Dean can tell you, although now I do not
+repent it.  But who the Devil cares what they think?  Am I under
+obligations in the least to any of them all?  Rot ’em, for ungrateful
+dogs; I will make them repent their usage before I leave this place.
+They say here the same thing of my leaving the Whigs; but they own they
+cannot blame me, considering the treatment I have had.  I will take care
+of your spectacles, as I told you before, and of the Bishop of Killala’s;
+but I will not write to him, I have not time.  What do you mean by my
+fourth, Madam Dinglibus?  Does not Stella say you have had my fifth,
+Goody Blunder?  You frighted me till I looked back.  Well, this is enough
+for one night.  Pray give my humble service to Mrs. Stoyte and her
+sister, Kate is it, or Sarah? {63b}  I have forgot her name, faith.  I
+think I will even (and to Mrs. Walls and the Archdeacon) send this
+to-morrow: no, faith, that will be in ten days from the last.  I will
+keep it till Saturday, though I write no more.  But what if a letter from
+MD should come in the meantime?  Why then I would only say, “Madam, I
+have received your sixth letter; your most humble servant to command,
+Presto”; and so conclude.  Well, now I will write and think a little, and
+so to bed, and dream of MD.
+
+9.  I have my mouth full of water, and was going to spit it out, because
+I reasoned with myself, how could I write when my mouth was full?  Han’t
+you done things like that, reasoned wrong at first thinking?  Well, I was
+to see Mr. Lewis this morning, and am to dine a few days hence, as he
+tells me, with Mr. Secretary St. John; and I must contrive to see Harley
+soon again, to hasten this business from the Queen.  I dined to-day at
+Lord Mountrath’s, {64a} with Lord Mountjoy, {64b} etc.; but the wine was
+not good, so I came away, stayed at the Coffee-house till seven, then
+came home to my fire, the maidenhead of my second half-bushel, and am now
+in bed at eleven, as usual.  ’Tis mighty warm; yet I fear I should catch
+cold this wet weather, if I sat an evening in my room after coming from
+warm places: and I must make much of myself, because MD is not here to
+take care of Presto; and I am full of business, writing, etc., and do not
+care for the Coffee-house; and so this serves for all together, not to
+tell it you over and over, as silly people do; but Presto is a wiser man,
+faith, than so, let me tell you, gentlewomen.  See, I am got to the third
+side; but, faith, I will not do that often; but I must say something
+early to-day, till the letter is done, and on Saturday it shall go; so I
+must leave something till to-morrow, till to-morrow and next day.
+
+10.  O Lord, I would this letter was with you with all my heart!  If it
+should miscarry, what a deal would be lost!  I forgot to leave a gap in
+the last line but one for the seal, like a puppy; but I should have
+allowed for night, good-night; but when I am taking leave, I cannot leave
+a bit, faith; but I fancy the seal will not come there.  I dined to-day
+at Lady Lucy’s, where they ran down my “Shower”; and said, “Sid Hamet”
+was the silliest poem they ever read; and told Prior so, whom they
+thought to be author of it.  Don’t you wonder I never dined there before?
+But I am too busy, and they live too far off; and, besides, I do not like
+women so much as I did.  (MD, you must know, are not women.)  I supped
+to-night at Addison’s, with Garth, Steele, and Mr. Dopping; and am come
+home late.  Lewis has sent to me to desire I will dine with some company
+I shall like.  I suppose it is Mr. Secretary St. John’s appointment.  I
+had a letter just now from Raymond, who is at Bristol, and says he will
+be at London in a fortnight, and leave his wife behind him; and desires
+any lodging in the house where I am: but that must not be.  I shall not
+know what to do with him in town: to be sure, I will not present him to
+any acquaintance of mine; and he will live a delicate life, a parson and
+a perfect stranger!  Paaast twelvvve o’clock, {65} and so good-night,
+etc.  Oh! but I forgot, Jemmy Leigh is come to town; says he has brought
+Dingley’s things, and will send them with the first convenience.  My
+parcel, I hear, is not sent yet.  He thinks of going for Ireland in a
+month, etc.  I cannot write to-morrow, because—what, because of the
+Archbishop; because I will seal my letter early; because I am engaged
+from noon till night; because of many kind of things; and yet I will
+write one or two words to-morrow morning, to keep up my journal constant,
+and at night I will begin my ninth.
+
+11.  Morning by candlelight.  You must know that I am in my nightgown
+every morning between six and seven, and Patrick is forced to ply me
+fifty times before I can get on my nightgown; and so now I will take my
+leave of my own dear MD for this letter, and begin my next when I come
+home at night.  God Almighty bless and protect dearest MD.  Farewell,
+etc.
+
+This letter’s as long as a sermon, faith.
+
+
+
+LETTER IX.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Nov._ 11, 1710.
+
+I DINED to-day, by invitation, with the Secretary of State, Mr. St. John.
+Mr. Harley came in to us before dinner, and made me his excuses for not
+dining with us, because he was to receive people who came to propose
+advancing money to the Government: there dined with us only Mr. Lewis,
+and Dr. Freind {66a} (that writ “Lord Peterborow’s Actions in Spain”).  I
+stayed with them till just now between ten and eleven, and was forced
+again to give my eighth to the bellman, which I did with my own hands,
+rather than keep it till next post.  The Secretary used me with all the
+kindness in the world.  Prior came in after dinner; and, upon an
+occasion, he (the Secretary) said, “The best thing I ever read is not
+yours, but Dr. Swift’s on Vanbrugh”; which I do not reckon so very good
+neither. {66b}  But Prior was damped, until I stuffed him with two or
+three compliments.  I am thinking what a veneration we used to have for
+Sir William Temple, because he might have been Secretary of State at
+fifty; and here is a young fellow, hardly thirty, in that employment.
+{66c}  His father is a man of pleasure, {66d} that walks the Mall, and
+frequents St. James’s Coffee-house, and the chocolate-houses; and the
+young son is principal Secretary of State.  Is there not something very
+odd in that?  He told me, among other things, that Mr. Harley complained
+he could keep nothing from me, I had the way so much of getting into him.
+I knew that was a refinement; and so I told him, and it was so: indeed,
+it is hard to see these great men use me like one who was their betters,
+and the puppies with you in Ireland hardly regarding me: but there are
+some reasons for all this, which I will tell you when we meet.  At coming
+home, I saw a letter from your mother, in answer to one I sent her two
+days ago.  It seems she is in town; but cannot come out in a morning,
+just as you said; and God knows when I shall be at leisure in an
+afternoon: for if I should send her a penny-post letter, and afterwards
+not be able to meet her, it would vex me; and, besides, the days are
+short, and why she cannot come early in a morning, before she is wanted,
+I cannot imagine.  I will desire her to let Lady Giffard know that she
+hears I am in town; and that she would go to see me, to inquire after
+you.  I wonder she will confine herself so much to that old beast’s
+humour.  You know I cannot in honour see Lady Giffard, {67a} and
+consequently not go into her house.  This I think is enough for the first
+time.
+
+12.  And how could you write with such thin paper?  (I forgot to say this
+in my former.)  Cannot you get thicker?  Why, that’s a common caution
+that writing-masters give their scholars; you must have heard it a
+hundred times.  ’Tis this:
+
+    “If paper be thin,
+    Ink will slip in;
+    But, if it be thick,
+    You may write with a stick.” {67b}
+
+I had a letter to-day from poor Mrs. Long, {67c} giving me an account of
+her present life, obscure in a remote country town, and how easy she is
+under it.  Poor creature! ’tis just such an alteration in life, as if
+Presto should be banished from MD, and condemned to converse with Mrs.
+Raymond.  I dined to-day with Ford, Sir Richard Levinge, {67d} etc., at a
+place where they board, {68a} hard by.  I was lazy, and not very well,
+sitting so long with company yesterday.  I have been very busy writing
+this evening at home, and had a fire: I am spending my second half-bushel
+of coals; and now am in bed, and ’tis late.
+
+13.  I dined to-day in the City, and then went to christen Will
+Frankland’s {68b} child; and Lady Falconbridge {68c} was one of the
+godmothers: this is a daughter of Oliver Cromwell, and extremely like him
+by his pictures that I have seen.  I stayed till almost eleven, and am
+now come home and gone to bed.  My business in the City was, to thank
+Stratford for a kindness he has done me, which now I will tell you.  I
+found Bank Stock was fallen thirty-four in the hundred, and was mighty
+desirous to buy it; but I was a little too late for the cheapest time,
+being hindered by business here; for I was so wise to guess to a day when
+it would fall.  My project was this: I had three hundred pounds in
+Ireland; and so I writ to Mr. Stratford in the City, to desire he would
+buy me three hundred pounds in Bank Stock, and that he should keep the
+papers, and that I would be bound to pay him for them; and, if it should
+rise or fall, I would take my chance, and pay him interest in the
+meantime.  I showed my letter to one or two people who understand those
+things; and they said money was so hard to be got here, that no man would
+do it for me.  However, Stratford, who is the most generous man alive,
+has done it: but it costs one hundred pounds and a half, that is, ten
+shillings; so that three hundred pounds cost me three hundred pounds and
+thirty shillings.  This was done about a week ago, and I can have five
+pounds for my bargain already.  Before it fell, it was one hundred and
+thirty pounds; and we are sure it will be the same again.  I told you I
+writ to your mother, to desire that Lady Giffard would do the same with
+what she owes you; but she tells your mother she has no money.  I would
+to God all you had in the world was there.  Whenever you lend money, take
+this rule, to have two people bound, who have both visible fortunes; for
+they will hardly die together; and, when one dies, you fall upon the
+other, and make him add another security: and if Rathburn (now I have his
+name) pays you in your money, let me know, and I will direct Parvisol
+accordingly: however, he shall wait on you and know.  So, ladies, enough
+of business for one night.  Paaaaast twelvvve o’clock.  I must only add,
+that, after a long fit of rainy weather, it has been fair two or three
+days, and is this day grown cold and frosty; so that you must give poor
+little Presto leave to have a fire in his chamber morning and evening
+too; and he will do as much for you.
+
+14.  What, has your Chancellor {69a} lost his senses, like Will Crowe?
+{69b}  I forgot to tell Dingley that I was yesterday at Ludgate,
+bespeaking the spectacles at the great shop there, and shall have them in
+a day or two.  This has been an insipid day.  I dined with Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh, and came gravely home, after just visiting the Coffee-house.
+Sir Richard Cox, {69c} they say, is sure of going over Lord Chancellor,
+who is as arrant a puppy as ever ate bread: but the Duke of Ormond has a
+natural affection to puppies; which is a thousand pities, being none
+himself.  I have been amusing myself at home till now, and in bed bid you
+good-night.
+
+15.  I have been visiting this morning, but nobody was at home, Secretary
+St. John, Sir Thomas Hanmer, {69d} Sir Chancellor Cox-comb, etc.  I
+attended the Duke of Ormond with about fifty other Irish gentlemen at
+Skinners’ Hall, where the Londonderry Society laid out three hundred
+pounds to treat us and his Grace with a dinner.  Three great tables with
+the dessert laid in mighty figure.  Sir Richard Levinge and I got
+discreetly to the head of the second table, to avoid the crowd at the
+first: but it was so cold, and so confounded a noise with the trumpets
+and hautboys, that I grew weary, and stole away before the second course
+came on; so I can give you no account of it, which is a thousand pities.
+I called at Ludgate for Dingley’s glasses, and shall have them in a day
+or two; and I doubt it will cost me thirty shillings for a microscope,
+but not without Stella’s permission; for I remember she is a virtuoso.
+Shall I buy it or no?  ’Tis not the great bulky ones, nor the common
+little ones, to impale a louse (saving your presence) upon a needle’s
+point; but of a more exact sort, and clearer to the sight, with all its
+equipage in a little trunk that you may carry in your pocket.  Tell me,
+sirrah, shall I buy it or not for you?  I came home straight, etc.
+
+16.  I dined to-day in the city with Mr. Manley, {70} who invited Mr.
+Addison and me, and some other friends, to his lodging, and entertained
+us very handsomely.  I returned with Mr. Addison, and loitered till nine
+in the Coffee-house, where I am hardly known, by going so seldom.  I am
+here soliciting for Trounce; you know him: he was gunner in the former
+yacht, and would fain be so in the present one if you remember him, a
+good, lusty, fresh-coloured fellow.  Shall I stay till I get another
+letter from MD before I close up this?  Mr. Addison and I meet a little
+seldomer than formerly, although we are still at bottom as good friends
+as ever, but differ a little about party.
+
+17.  To-day I went to Lewis at the Secretary’s office; where I saw and
+spoke to Mr. Harley, who promised, in a few days, to finish the rest of
+my business.  I reproached him for putting me on the necessity of minding
+him of it, and rallied him, etc., which he took very well.  I dined
+to-day with one Mr. Gore, elder brother to a young merchant of my
+acquaintance; and Stratford and my other friend merchants dined with us,
+where I stayed late, drinking claret and burgundy; and am just got to
+bed, and will say no more, but that it now begins to be time to have a
+letter from my own little MD; for the last I had above a fortnight ago,
+and the date was old too.
+
+18.  To-day I dined with Lewis and Prior at an eating-house, but with
+Lewis’s wine.  Lewis went away, and Prior and I sat on, where we
+complimented one another for an hour or two upon our mutual wit and
+poetry.  Coming home at seven, a gentleman unknown stopped me in the Pall
+Mall, and asked my advice; said he had been to see the Queen (who was
+just come to town), and the people in waiting would not let him see her;
+that he had two hundred thousand men ready to serve her in the war; that
+he knew the Queen perfectly well, and had an apartment at Court, and if
+she heard he was there, she would send for him immediately; that she owed
+him two hundred thousand pounds, etc., and he desired my opinion, whether
+he should go try again whether he could see her; or because, perhaps, she
+was weary after her journey, whether he had not better stay till
+to-morrow.  I had a mind to get rid of my companion, and begged him of
+all love to go and wait on her immediately; for that, to my knowledge,
+the Queen would admit him; that this was an affair of great importance,
+and required despatch: and I instructed him to let me know the success of
+his business, and come to the Smyrna Coffee-house, where I would wait for
+him till midnight; and so ended this adventure.  I would have fain given
+the man half a crown; but was afraid to offer it him, lest he should be
+offended; for, beside his money, he said he had a thousand pounds a year.
+I came home not early; and so, madams both, good-night, etc.
+
+19.  I dined to-day with poor Lord Mountjoy, who is ill of the gout; and
+this evening I christened our coffee-man Elliot’s {72a} child, where the
+rogue had a most noble supper, and Steele and I sat among some scurvy
+company over a bowl of punch; so that I am come home late, young women,
+and can’t stay to write to little rogues.
+
+20.  I loitered at home, and dined with Sir Andrew Fountaine at his
+lodging, and then came home: a silly day.
+
+21.  I was visiting all this morning, and then went to the Secretary’s
+office, and found Mr. Harley, with whom I dined; and Secretary St. John,
+etc., and Harley promised in a very few days to finish what remains of my
+business.  Prior was of the company, and we all dine at the Secretary’s
+to-morrow.  I saw Stella’s mother this morning: she came early, and we
+talked an hour.  I wish you would propose to Lady Giffard to take the
+three hundred pounds out of her hands, and give her common interest for
+life, and security that you will pay her: the Bishop of Clogher, or any
+friend, would be security for you, if you gave them counter-security; and
+it may be argued that it will pass better to be in your hands than hers,
+in case of mortality, etc.  Your mother says, if you write, she will
+second it; and you may write to your mother, and then it will come from
+her.  She tells me Lady Giffard has a mind to see me, by her discourse;
+but I told her what to say, with a vengeance.  She told Lady Giffard she
+was going to see me: she looks extremely well.  I am writing {72b} in my
+bed like a tiger; and so good-night, etc.
+
+22.  I dined with Secretary St. John; and Lord Dartmouth, who is t’other
+Secretary, dined with us, and Lord Orrery {72c} and Prior, etc.  Harley
+called, but could not dine with us, and would have had me away while I
+was at dinner; but I did not like the company he was to have.  We stayed
+till eight, and I called at the Coffee-house, and looked where the
+letters lie; but no letter directed for Mr. Presto: at last I saw a
+letter to Mr. Addison, and it looked like a rogue’s hand; so I made the
+fellow give it me, and opened it before him, and saw three letters all
+for myself: so, truly, I put them in my pocket, and came home to my
+lodging.  Well, and so you shall hear: well, and so I found one of them
+in Dingley’s hand, and t’other in Stella’s, and the third in Domville’s.
+{73a}  Well, so you shall hear; so, said I to myself, What now, two
+letters from MD together?  But I thought there was something in the wind;
+so I opened one, and I opened t’other; and so you shall hear, one was
+from Walls.  Well, but t’other was from our own dear MD; yes it was.  O
+faith, have you received my seventh, young women, already?  Then I must
+send this to-morrow, else there will be old {73b} doings at our house,
+faith.—Well, I won’t answer your letter in this: no, faith, catch me at
+that, and I never saw the like.  Well; but as to Walls, tell him (with
+service to him and wife, etc.) that I have no imagination of Mr. Pratt’s
+{73c} losing his place: and while Pratt continues, Clements is in no
+danger; and I have already engaged Lord Hyde {73d} he speaks of, for
+Pratt and twenty others; but, if such a thing should happen, I will do
+what I can.  I have above ten businesses of other people’s now on my
+hands, and, I believe, shall miscarry in half.  It is your sixth I now
+have received.  I writ last post to the Bishop of Clogher again.  Shall I
+send this to-morrow?  Well, I will, to oblige MD.  Which would you
+rather, a short letter every week, or a long one every fortnight?  A long
+one; well, it shall be done, and so good-night.  Well, but is this a long
+one?  No, I warrant you: too long for naughty girls.
+
+23.  I only ask, have you got both the ten pounds, or only the first; I
+hope you mean both.  Pray be good housewives; and I beg you to walk when
+you can, for health.  Have you the horse in town? and do you ever ride
+him? how often?  Confess.  Ahhh, sirrah, have I caught you?  Can you
+contrive to let Mrs. Fenton {74a} know, that the request she has made me
+in her letter I will use what credit I have to bring about, although I
+hear it is very difficult, and I doubt I shall not succeed?  Cox is not
+to be your Chancellor: all joined against him.  I have been supping with
+Lord Peterborow at his house, with Prior, Lewis, and Dr. Freind.  ’Tis
+the ramblingest lying rogue on earth.  Dr. Raymond is come to town: ’tis
+late, and so I bid you good-night.
+
+24.  I tell you, pretty management!  Ned Southwell told me the other day
+he had a letter from the bishops of Ireland, with an address to the Duke
+of Ormond, to intercede with the Queen to take off the First-Fruits.  I
+dined with him to-day, and saw it, with another letter to him from the
+Bishop of Kildare, {74b} to call upon me for the papers, etc.; and I had
+last post one from the Archbishop of Dublin, telling me the reason of
+this proceeding; that, upon hearing the Duke of Ormond was declared Lord
+Lieutenant, they met; and the bishops were for this project, and talked
+coldly of my being solicitor, as one that was favoured by t’other party,
+etc., but desired that I would still solicit. {74c}  Now the wisdom of
+this is admirable; for I had given the Archbishop an account of my
+reception from Mr. Harley, and how he had spoken to the Queen, and
+promised it should be done; but Mr. Harley ordered me to tell no person
+alive.  Some time after, he gave me leave to let the Primate and
+Archbishop know that the Queen had remitted the First-Fruits; and that in
+a short time they should have an account of it in form from Lord
+Dartmouth, Secretary of State.  So while their letter was on the road to
+the Duke of Ormond and Southwell, mine was going to them with an account
+of the thing being done.  I writ a very warm answer {75} to the
+Archbishop immediately; and showed my resentments, as I ought, against
+the bishops; only, in good manners, excepting himself.  I wonder what
+they will say when they hear the thing is done.  I was yesterday forced
+to tell Southwell so, that the Queen had done it, etc.; for he said, my
+Lord Duke would think of it some months hence, when he was going for
+Ireland; and he had it three years in doing formerly, without any
+success.  I give you free leave to say, on occasion, that it is done; and
+that Mr. Harley prevailed on the Queen to do it, etc., as you please.  As
+I hope to live, I despise the credit of it, out of an excess of pride;
+and desire you will not give me the least merit when you talk of it; but
+I would vex the bishops, and have it spread that Mr. Harley had done it:
+pray do so.  Your mother sent me last night a parcel of wax candles, and
+a bandbox full of small plumcakes.  I thought it had been something for
+you; and, without opening them, sent answer by the maid that brought
+them, that I would take care to send the things, etc.; but I will write
+her thanks.  Is this a long letter, sirrahs?  Now, are you satisfied?  I
+have had no fit since the first: I drink brandy every morning, and take
+pills every night.  Never fear, I an’t vexed at this puppy business of
+the bishops, although I was a little at first.  I will tell you my
+reward: Mr. Harley will think he has done me a favour; the Duke of
+Ormond, perhaps, that I have put a neglect on him; and the bishops in
+Ireland, that I have done nothing at all.  So goes the world.  But I have
+got above all this, and, perhaps, I have better reason for it than they
+know: and so you shall hear no more of First-Fruits, dukes, Harleys,
+archbishops, and Southwells.
+
+I have slipped off Raymond upon some of his countrymen, to show him the
+town, etc., and I lend him Patrick.  He desires to sit with me in the
+evenings; upon which I have given Patrick positive orders that I am not
+within at evenings.
+
+
+
+LETTER X.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Nov._ 25, 1710.
+
+I WILL tell you something that’s plaguy silly: I had forgot to say on the
+23d in my last, where I dined; and because I had done it constantly, I
+thought it was a great omission, and was going to interline it; but at
+last the silliness of it made me cry, Pshah, and I let it alone.  I was
+to-day to see the Parliament meet; but only saw a great crowd; and Ford
+and I went to see the tombs at Westminster, and sauntered so long I was
+forced to go to an eating-house for my dinner.  Bromley {76a} is chosen
+Speaker, _nemine contradicente_: Do you understand those two words?  And
+Pompey, Colonel Hill’s {76b} black, designs to stand Speaker for the
+footmen. {76c}  I am engaged to use my interest for him, and have spoken
+to Patrick to get him some votes.  We are now all impatient for the
+Queen’s speech, what she will say about removing the Ministry, etc.  I
+have got a cold, and I don’t know how; but got it I have, and am hoarse:
+I don’t know whether it will grow better or worse.  What’s that to you?
+I won’t answer your letter to-night.  I’ll keep you a little longer in
+suspense: I can’t send it.  Your mother’s cakes are very good, and one of
+them serves me for a breakfast, and so I’ll go sleep like a good boy.
+
+26.  I have got a cruel cold, and stayed within all this day in my
+nightgown, and dined on sixpennyworth of victuals, and read and writ, and
+was denied to everybody.  Dr. Raymond {77a} called often, and I was
+denied; and at last, when I was weary, I let him come up, and asked him,
+without consequence, how Patrick denied me, and whether he had the art of
+it?  So by this means he shall be used to have me denied to him;
+otherwise he would be a plaguy trouble and hindrance to me: he has sat
+with me two hours, and drank a pint of ale cost me fivepence, and smoked
+his pipe, and it is now past eleven that he is just gone.  Well, my
+eighth is with you now, young women; and your seventh to me is somewhere
+in a post-boy’s bag; and so go to your gang of deans, and Stoytes, and
+Walls, and lose your money; go, sauceboxes: and so good-night, and be
+happy, dear rogues.  Oh, but your box was sent to Dr. Hawkshaw by Sterne,
+and you will have it with Hawkshaw, and spectacles, etc., etc.
+
+27.  To-day Mr. Harley met me in the Court of Requests, {77b} and
+whispered me to dine with him.  At dinner I told him what those bishops
+had done, and the difficulty I was under.  He bid me never trouble
+myself; he would tell the Duke of Ormond the business was done, and that
+he need not concern himself about it.  So now I am easy, and they may
+hang themselves for a parcel of insolent, ungrateful rascals.  I suppose
+I told you in my last, how they sent an address to the Duke of Ormond,
+and a letter to Southwell, to call on me for the papers, after the thing
+was over; but they had not received my letter, though the Archbishop
+might, by what I writ to him, have expected it would be done.  Well,
+there is an end of that; and in a little time the Queen will send them
+notice, etc.  And so the methods will be settled; and then I shall think
+of returning, although the baseness of those bishops makes me love
+Ireland less than I did.
+
+28.  Lord Halifax sent to invite me to dinner; where I stayed till six,
+and crossed him in all his Whig talk, and made him often come over to me.
+I know he makes court to the new men, although he affects to talk like a
+Whig.  I had a letter to-day from the Bishop of Clogher; but I writ to
+him lately, that I would obey his commands to the Duke of Ormond.  He
+says I bid him read the London “Shaver,” and that you both swore it was
+“Shaver,” and not “Shower.” {78a}  You all lie, and you are puppies, and
+can’t read Presto’s hand.  The Bishop is out entirely in his conjectures
+of my share in the _Tatlers_.—I have other things to mind, and of much
+greater importance; {78b} else I have little to do to be acquainted with
+a new Ministry, who consider me a little more than Irish bishops do.
+
+29.  Now for your saucy, good dear letter: let me see, what does it say?
+come then.  I dined to-day with Ford, and went home early; he debauched
+{78c} me to his chamber again with a bottle of wine till twelve: so
+good-night.  I cannot write an answer now, you rogues.
+
+30.  To-day I have been visiting, which I had long neglected; and I dined
+with Mrs. Barton alone; and sauntered at the Coffee-house till past
+eight, and have been busy till eleven, and now I’ll answer your letter,
+saucebox.  Well, let me see now again.  My wax candle’s almost out, but
+however I’ll begin.  Well then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto; what
+can you say to MD’s letter?  Make haste, have done with your
+preambles—Why, I say I am glad you are so often abroad; your mother
+thinks it is want of exercise hurts you, and so do I.  (She called here
+to-night, but I was not within, that’s by the bye.)  Sure you do not
+deceive me, Stella, when you say you are in better health than you were
+these three weeks; for Dr. Raymond told me yesterday, that Smyth of the
+Blind Quay had been telling Mr. Leigh that he left you extremely ill; and
+in short, spoke so, that he almost put poor Leigh into tears, and would
+have made me run distracted; though your letter is dated the 11th
+instant, and I saw Smyth in the city above a fortnight ago, as I passed
+by in a coach.  Pray, pray, don’t write, Stella, until you are mighty,
+mighty, mighty, mighty well in your eyes, and are sure it won’t do you
+the least hurt.  Or come, I’ll tell you what; you, Mistress Stella, shall
+write your share at five or six sittings, one sitting a day; and then
+comes Dingley all together, and then Stella a little crumb towards the
+end, to let us see she remembers Presto; and then conclude with something
+handsome and genteel, as your most humblecumdumble, or, etc.  O Lord!
+does Patrick write word of my not coming till spring?  Insolent man! he
+know my secrets?  No; as my Lord Mayor said, No; if I thought my shirt
+knew, etc.  Faith, I will come as soon as it is any way proper for me to
+come; but, to say the truth, I am at present a little involved with the
+present Ministry in some certain things (which I tell you as a secret);
+and soon as ever I can clear my hands, I will stay no longer; for I hope
+the First-Fruit business will be soon over in all its forms.  But, to say
+the truth, the present Ministry have a difficult task, and want me, etc.
+Perhaps they may be just as grateful as others: but, according to the
+best judgment I have, they are pursuing the true interest of the public;
+and therefore I am glad to contribute what is in my power.  For God’s
+sake, not a word of this to any alive.—Your Chancellor? {80a}  Why,
+madam, I can tell you he has been dead this fortnight.  Faith, I could
+hardly forbear our little language about a nasty dead Chancellor, as you
+may see by the blot. {80b}  Ploughing?  A pox plough them; they’ll plough
+me to nothing.  But have you got your money, both the ten pounds?  How
+durst he pay you the second so soon?  Pray be good huswifes.  Ay, well,
+and Joe, why, I had a letter lately from Joe, desiring I would take some
+care of their poor town, {80c} who, he says, will lose their liberties.
+To which I desired Dr. Raymond would return answer, that the town had
+behaved themselves so ill to me, so little regarded the advice I gave
+them, and disagreed so much among themselves, that I was resolved never
+to have more to do with them; but that whatever personal kindness I could
+do to Joe, should be done.  Pray, when you happen to see Joe, tell him
+this, lest Raymond should have blundered or forgotten—Poor Mrs.
+Wesley!—Why these poligyes {80d} for being abroad?  Why should you be at
+home at all, until Stella is quite well?—So, here is Mistress Stella
+again, with her two eggs, etc.  My “Shower” admired with you; why, the
+Bishop of Clogher says, he has seen something of mine of the same sort,
+better than the “Shower.”  I suppose he means “The Morning”; {80e} but it
+is not half so good.  I want your judgment of things, and not your
+country’s.  How does MD like it? and do they taste it _all_? etc.  I am
+glad Dean Bolton {81a} has paid the twenty pounds.  Why should not I
+chide the Bishop of Clogher for writing to the Archbishop of Cashel,
+{81b} without sending the letter first to me?  It does not signify a —;
+for he has no credit at Court.  Stuff—they are all puppies.  I will break
+your head in good earnest, young woman, for your nasty jest about Mrs.
+Barton. {81c}  Unlucky sluttikin, what a word is there!  Faith, I was
+thinking yesterday, when I was with her, whether she could break them or
+no, and it quite spoilt my imagination.  “Mrs. Walls, does Stella win as
+she pretends?”  “No indeed, Doctor; she loses always, and will play so
+_ventersomely_, how can she win?”  See here now; an’t you an impudent
+lying slut?  Do, open Domville’s letter; what does it signify, if you
+have a mind?  Yes, faith, you write smartly with your eyes shut; all was
+well but the _n_.  See how I can do it; _Madam Stella_, _your humble
+servant_. {81d}  O, but one may look whether one goes crooked or no, and
+so write on.  I will tell you what you may do; you may write with your
+eyes half shut, just as when one is going to sleep: I have done so for
+two or three lines now; it is but just seeing enough to go straight.—Now,
+Madam Dingley, I think I bid you tell Mr. Walls that, in case there be
+occasion, I will serve his friend as far as I can; but I hope there will
+be none.  Yet I believe you will have a new Parliament; but I care not
+whether you have or no a better.  You are mistaken in all your
+conjectures about the _Tatlers_.  I have given him one or two hints, and
+you have heard me talk about the Shilling. {81e}  Faith, these answering
+letters are very long ones: you have taken up almost the room of a week
+in journals; and I will tell you what, I saw fellows wearing crosses
+to-day, {81f} and I wondered what was the matter; but just this minute I
+recollect it is little Presto’s birthday; and I was resolved these three
+days to remember it when it came, but could not.  Pray, drink my health
+to-day at dinner; do, you rogues.  Do you like “Sid Hamet’s Rod”?  Do you
+understand it all?  Well, now at last I have done with your letter, and
+so I will lay me down to sleep, and about, fair maids; and I hope merry
+maids all.
+
+Dec. 1.  Morning.  I wish Smyth were hanged.  I was dreaming the most
+melancholy things in the world of poor Stella, and was grieving and
+crying all night.—Pshah, it is foolish: I will rise and divert myself; so
+good-morrow; and God of His infinite mercy keep and protect you!  The
+Bishop of Clogher’s letter is dated Nov. 21.  He says you thought of
+going with him to Clogher.  I am heartily glad of it, and wish you would
+ride there, and Dingley go in a coach.  I have had no fit since my first,
+although sometimes my head is not quite in good order.—At night.  I was
+this morning to visit Mr. Pratt, who is come over with poor, sick Lord
+Shelburne: they made me dine with them; and there I stayed, like a booby,
+till eight, looking over them at ombre, and then came home.  Lord
+Shelburne’s giddiness is turned into a colic, and he looks miserably.
+
+2.  Steele, the rogue, has done the imprudentest thing in the world: he
+said something in a _Tatler_, {82a} that we ought to use the word Great
+Britain, and not England, in common conversation, as, “The finest lady in
+Great Britain,” etc.  Upon this, Rowe, Prior, and I sent him a letter,
+turning this into ridicule.  He has to-day printed the letter, {82b} and
+signed it J.S., M.P., and N.R., the first letters of all our names.
+Congreve told me to-day, he smoked it immediately.  Congreve and I, and
+Sir Charles Wager, dined to-day at Delaval’s, the Portugal Envoy; and I
+stayed there till eight, and came home, and am now writing to you before
+I do business, because that dog Patrick is not at home, and the fire is
+not made, and I am not in my gear.  Pox take him!—I was looking by chance
+at the top of this side, and find I make plaguy mistakes in words; so
+that you must fence against that as well as bad writing.  Faith, I can’t
+nor won’t read what I have written.  (Pox of this puppy!) Well, I’ll
+leave you till I am got to bed, and then I will say a word or two.—Well,
+’tis now almost twelve, and I have been busy ever since, by a fire too (I
+have my coals by half a bushel at a time, I’ll assure you), and now I am
+got to bed.  Well, and what have you to say to Presto now he is abed?
+Come now, let us hear your speeches.  No, ’tis a lie; I an’t sleepy yet.
+Let us sit up a little longer, and talk.  Well, where have you been
+to-day, that you are but just this minute come home in a coach?  What
+have you lost?  Pay the coachman, Stella.  No, faith, not I, he’ll
+grumble.—What new acquaintance have you got? come, let us hear.  I have
+made Delaval promise to send me some Brazil tobacco from Portugal for
+you, Madam Dingley.  I hope you will have your chocolate and spectacles
+before this comes to you.
+
+3.  Pshaw, I must be writing to these dear saucy brats every night,
+whether I will or no, let me have what business I will, or come home ever
+so late, or be ever so sleepy; but an old saying, and a true one,
+
+    “Be you lords, or be you earls,
+    You must write to naughty girls.”
+
+I was to-day at Court, and saw Raymond among the Beefeaters, staying to
+see the Queen: so I put him in a better station, made two or three dozen
+of bows, and went to church, and then to Court again, to pick up a
+dinner, as I did with Sir John Stanley; and then we went to visit Lord
+Mountjoy, and just now left him; and ’tis near eleven at night, young
+women; and methinks this letter comes pretty near to the bottom, and ’tis
+but eight days since the date, and don’t think I’ll write on the other
+side, I thank you for nothing.  Faith, if I would use you to letters on
+sheets as broad as this room, you would always expect them from me.  O,
+faith, I know you well enough; but an old saying, etc.,
+
+    “Two sides in a sheet,
+    And one in a street.”
+
+I think that’s but a silly old saying; and so I’ll go to sleep, and do
+you so too.
+
+4.  I dined to-day with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and then came home, and studied
+till eleven.  No adventure at all to-day.
+
+5.  So I went to the Court of Requests (we have had the Devil and all of
+rain by the bye) to pick up a dinner; and Henley made me go dine with him
+and one Colonel Bragg {84a} at a tavern; cost me money, faith.  Congreve
+was to be there, but came not.  I came with Henley to the Coffee-house,
+where Lord Salisbury {84b} seemed mighty desirous to talk with me; and,
+while he was wriggling himself into my favour, that dog Henley asked me
+aloud, whether I would go to see Lord Somers as I had promised (which was
+a lie); and all to vex poor Lord Salisbury, who is a high Tory.  He
+played two or three other such tricks; and I was forced to leave my lord,
+and I came home at seven, and have been writing ever since, and will now
+go to bed.  The other day I saw Jack Temple {84c} in the Court of
+Requests: it was the first time of seeing him; so we talked two or three
+careless words, and parted.  Is it true that your Recorder and Mayor, and
+fanatic aldermen, a month or two ago, at a solemn feast, drank Mr.
+Harley’s, Lord Rochester’s, {84d} and other Tory healths?  Let me know;
+it was confidently said here.—The scoundrels!  It shan’t do, Tom.
+
+6.  When is this letter to go, I wonder? harkee, young women, tell me
+that.  Saturday next for certain, and not before: then it will be just a
+fortnight; time enough for naughty girls, and long enough for two
+letters, faith.  Congreve and Delaval have at last prevailed on Sir
+Godfrey Kneller to entreat me to let him draw my picture for nothing; but
+I know not yet when I shall sit. {84e}—It is such monstrous rainy
+weather, that there is no doing with it.  Secretary St. John sent to me
+this morning, that my dining with him to-day was put off till to-morrow;
+so I peaceably sat with my neighbour Ford, dined with him, and came home
+at six, and am now in bed as usual; and now it is time to have another
+letter from MD, yet I would not have it till this goes; for that would
+look like two letters for one.  Is it not whimsical that the Dean has
+never once written to me?  And I find the Archbishop very silent to that
+letter I sent him with an account that the business was done.  I believe
+he knows not what to write or say; and I have since written twice to him,
+both times with a vengeance. {85a}  Well, go to bed, sirrahs, and so will
+I.  But have you lost to-day?  Three shillings!  O fie, O fie!
+
+7.  No, I won’t send this letter to-day, nor till Saturday, faith; and I
+am so afraid of one from MD between this and that; if it comes, I will
+just say I received a letter, and that is all.  I dined to-day with Mr.
+Secretary St. John, where were Lord Anglesea, {85b} Sir Thomas Hanmer,
+Prior, Freind, etc., and then made a debauch after nine at Prior’s house,
+and have eaten cold pie, and I hate the thoughts of it, and I am full,
+and I don’t like it, and I will go to bed, and it is late, and so
+good-night.
+
+8.  To-day I dined with Mr. Harley and Prior; but Mr. St. John did not
+come, though he promised: he chid me for not seeing him oftener.  Here is
+a damned, libellous pamphlet come out against Lord Wharton, giving the
+character first, and then telling some of his actions: the character is
+very well, but the facts indifferent. {85c}  It has been sent by dozens
+to several gentlemen’s lodgings, and I had one or two of them; but nobody
+knows the author or printer.  We are terribly afraid of the plague; they
+say it is at Newcastle. {86a}  I begged Mr. Harley for the love of God to
+take some care about it, or we are all ruined.  There have been orders
+for all ships from the Baltic to pass their quarantine before they land;
+but they neglect it.  You remember I have been afraid these two years.
+
+9.  O, faith, you are a saucy rogue.  I have had your sixth letter just
+now, before this is gone; but I will not answer a word of it, only that I
+never was giddy since my first fit; but I have had a cold just a
+fortnight, and cough with it still morning and evening; but it will go
+off.  It is, however, such abominable weather that no creature can walk.
+They say here three of your Commissioners will be turned out, Ogle,
+South, and St. Quintin; {86b} and that Dick Stewart {86c} and Ludlow will
+be two of the new ones.  I am a little soliciting for another: it is poor
+Lord Abercorn, {86d} but that is a secret; I mean, that I befriend him is
+a secret; but I believe it is too late, by his own fault and ill fortune.
+I dined with him to-day.  I am heartily sorry you do not go to Clogher,
+faith, I am; and so God Almighty protect poor, dear, dear, dear, dearest
+MD.  Farewell till to-night.  I’ll begin my eleventh to-night; so I am
+always writing to little MD.
+
+
+
+LETTER XI.
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Dec._ 9, 1710.
+
+SO, young women, I have just sent my tenth to the post-office, and, as I
+told you, have received your seventh (faith, I am afraid I mistook, and
+said your sixth, and then we shall be all in confusion this month.)
+Well, I told you I dined with Lord Abercorn to-day; and that is enough
+till by and bye; for I must go write idle things, and twittle twattle.
+{87a}  What’s here to do with your little MD’s? and so I put this by for
+a while.  ’Tis now late, and I can only say MD is a dear, saucy rogue,
+and what then?  Presto loves them the better.
+
+10.  This son of a b— Patrick is out of the way, and I can do nothing; am
+forced to borrow coals: ’tis now six o’clock, and I am come home after a
+pure walk in the park; delicate weather, begun only to-day.  A terrible
+storm last night: we hear one of your packet-boats is cast away, and
+young Beau Swift {87b} in it, and General Sankey: {87c}  I know not the
+truth; you will before me.  Raymond talks of leaving the town in a few
+days, and going in a month to Ireland, for fear his wife should be too
+far gone, and forced to be brought to bed here.  I think he is in the
+right; but perhaps this packet-boat will fright him.  He has no relish
+for London; and I do not wonder at it.  He has got some Templars from
+Ireland that show him the town.  I do not let him see me above twice a
+week, and that only while I am dressing in the morning.—So, now the
+puppy’s come in, and I have got my own ink, but a new pen; and so now you
+are rogues and sauceboxes till I go to bed; for I must go study, sirrahs.
+Now I think of it, tell the Bishop of Clogher, he shall not cheat me of
+one inch of my bell metal.  You know it is nothing but to save the town
+money; and Enniskillen can afford it better than Laracor: he shall have
+but one thousand five hundred weight.  I have been reading, etc., as
+usual, and am now going to bed; and I find this day’s article is long
+enough: so get you gone till to-morrow, and then.  I dined with Sir
+Matthew Dudley.
+
+11.  I am come home again as yesterday, and the puppy had again locked up
+my ink, notwithstanding all I said to him yesterday; but he came home a
+little after me, so all is well: they are lighting my fire, and I’ll go
+study.  The fair weather is gone again, and it has rained all day.  I do
+not like this open weather, though some say it is healthy.  They say it
+is a false report about the plague at Newcastle. {88a}  I have no news
+to-day: I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, to desire them to buy me a scarf;
+and Lady Abercorn {88b} is to buy me another, to see who does best: mine
+is all in rags.  I saw the Duke of Richmond {88c} yesterday at Court
+again, but would not speak to him: I believe we are fallen out.  I am now
+in bed; and it has rained all this evening, like wildfire: have you so
+much rain in your town?  Raymond was in a fright, as I expected, upon the
+news of this shipwreck; but I persuaded him, and he leaves this town in a
+week.  I got him acquainted with Sir Robert Raymond, {88d} the
+Solicitor-General, who owns him to be of his family; and I believe it may
+do him a kindness, by being recommended to your new Lord Chancellor.—I
+had a letter from Mrs. Long, that has quite turned my stomach against
+her: no less than two nasty jests in it, with dashes to suppose them.
+She is corrupted in that country town {88e} with vile conversation.—I
+will not answer your letter till I have leisure: so let this go on as it
+will, what care I? what cares saucy Presto?
+
+12.  I was to-day at the Secretary’s office with Lewis, and in came Lord
+Rivers; {88f} who took Lewis out and whispered him; and then came up to
+me to desire my acquaintance, etc., so we bowed and complimented a while,
+and parted and I dined with Phil. Savage {89a} and his Irish Club, at
+their boarding-place; and, passing an evening scurvily enough, did not
+come home till eight.  Mr. Addison and I hardly meet once a fortnight;
+his Parliament and my different friendships keep us asunder.  Sir Matthew
+Dudley turned away his butler yesterday morning; and at night the poor
+fellow died suddenly in the streets: was not it an odd event?  But what
+care you?  But then I knew the butler.—Why, it seems your packet-boat is
+not lost: psha, how silly that is, when I had already gone through the
+forms, and said it was a sad thing, and that I was sorry for it!  But
+when must I answer this letter of our MD’s?  Here it is, it lies between
+this paper on t’other side of the leaf: one of these odd-come-shortly’s
+I’ll consider, and so good-night.
+
+13.  Morning.  I am to go trapesing with Lady Kerry {89b} and Mrs. Pratt
+{89c} to see sights all this day: they engaged me yesterday morning at
+tea.  You hear the havoc making in the army: Meredith, Maccartney, and
+Colonel Honeywood {89d} are obliged to sell their commands at half-value,
+and leave the army, for drinking destruction to the present Ministry, and
+dressing up a hat on a stick, and calling it Harley; then drinking a
+glass with one hand, and discharging a pistol with the other at the
+maukin, {90a} wishing it were Harley himself; and a hundred other such
+pretty tricks, as inflaming their soldiers, and foreign Ministers,
+against the late changes at Court.  Cadogan {90b} has had a little
+paring: his mother {90c} told me yesterday he had lost the place of
+Envoy; but I hope they will go no further with him, for he was not at
+those mutinous meetings.—Well, these saucy jades take up so much of my
+time with writing to them in a morning; but, faith, I am glad to see you
+whenever I can: a little snap and away; and so hold your tongue, for I
+must rise: not a word, for your life.  How nowww?  So, very well; stay
+till I come home, and then, perhaps, you may hear further from me.  And
+where will you go to-day, for I can’t be with you for these ladies?  It
+is a rainy, ugly day.  I’d have you send for Walls, and go to the Dean’s;
+but don’t play small games when you lose.  You’ll be ruined by Manilio,
+Basto, the queen, and two small trumps, in red. {90d}  I confess ’tis a
+good hand against the player: but then there are Spadilio, Punto, the
+king, strong trumps, against you, which, with one trump more, are three
+tricks ten ace: for, suppose you play your Manilio—Oh, silly, how I
+prate, and can’t get away from this MD in a morning!  Go, get you gone,
+dear naughty girls, and let me rise.  There, Patrick locked up my ink
+again the third time last night: the rogue gets the better of me; but I
+will rise in spite of you, sirrahs.—At night.  Lady Kerry, Mrs. Pratt,
+Mrs. Cadogan, {90e} and I, in one coach; Lady Kerry’s son {91a} and his
+governor, and two gentlemen, in another; maids, and misses and little
+master (Lord Shelburne’s {91b} children), in a third, all hackneys, set
+out at ten o’clock this morning from Lord Shelburne’s house in Piccadilly
+to the Tower, and saw all the sights, lions, {91c} etc.; then to Bedlam;
+{91d} then dined at the chop-house behind the Exchange; then to Gresham
+College {91e} (but the keeper was not at home); and concluded the night
+at the Puppet-show, {91f} whence we came home safe at eight, and I left
+them.  The ladies were all in mobs {91g} (how do you call it?), undrest;
+and it was the rainiest day that ever dripped; and I am weary; and it is
+now past eleven.
+
+14.  Stay, I’ll answer some of your letter this morning in bed: let me
+see; come and appear, little letter.  Here I am, says he: and what say
+you to Mrs. MD this morning fresh and fasting?  Who dares think MD
+negligent?  I allow them a fortnight; and they give it me.  I could fill
+a letter in a week; but it is longer every day; and so I keep it a
+fortnight, and then ’tis cheaper by one half.  I have never been giddy,
+dear Stella, since that morning: I have taken a whole box of pills, and
+kecked {91h} at them every night, and drank a pint of brandy at
+mornings.—Oh then, you kept Presto’s little birthday: {92a} would to God
+I had been with you!  I forgot it, as I told you before.  R_e_diculous,
+madam?  I suppose you mean r_i_diculous: let me have no more of that;
+’tis the author of the _Atalantis’s_ {92b} spelling.  I have mended it in
+your letter.  And can Stella read this writing without hurting her dear
+eyes?  O, faith, I am afraid not.  Have a care of those eyes, pray, pray,
+pretty Stella.—’Tis well enough what you observe, that, if I writ better,
+perhaps you would not read so well, being used to this manner; ’tis an
+alphabet you are used to: you know such a pot-hook makes a letter; and
+you know what letter, and so and so.—I’ll swear he told me so, and that
+they were long letters too; but I told him it was a gasconnade of yours,
+etc.  I am talking of the Bishop of Clogher, how he forgot.  Turn over.
+{92c}  I had not room on t’other side to say that, so I did it on this: I
+fancy that’s a good Irish blunder.  Ah, why do not you go down to
+Clogher, nautinautinautideargirls; I dare not say _nauti_ without _dear_:
+O, faith, you govern me.  But, seriously, I’m sorry you don’t go, as far
+as I can judge at this distance.  No, we would get you another horse; I
+will make Parvisol get you one.  I always doubted that horse of yours:
+prythee sell him, and let it be a present to me.  My heart aches when I
+think you ride him.  Order Parvisol to sell him, and that you are to
+return me the money: I shall never be easy until he is out of your hands.
+Faith, I have dreamt five or six times of horses stumbling since I had
+your letter.  If he can’t sell him, let him run this winter.  Faith, if I
+was near you, I would whip your — to some tune, for your grave, saucy
+answer about the Dean and _Johnsonibus_; I would, young women.  And did
+the Dean preach for me? {93a}  Very well.  Why, would they have me stand
+here and preach to them?  No, the _Tatler_ of the Shilling {93b} was not
+mine, more than the hint, and two or three general heads for it.  I have
+much more important business on my hands; and, besides, the Ministry hate
+to think that I should help him, and have made reproaches on it; and I
+frankly told them I would do it no more.  This is a secret though, Madam
+Stella.  You win eight shillings? you win eight fiddlesticks.  Faith, you
+say nothing of what you lose, young women.—I hope Manley is in no great
+danger; for Ned Southwell is his friend, and so is Sir Thomas Frankland;
+and his brother John Manley stands up heartily for him.  On t’other side,
+all the gentlemen of Ireland here are furiously against him.  Now,
+Mistress Dingley, an’t you an impudent slut, to expect a letter next
+packet from Presto, when you confess yourself that you had so lately two
+letters in four days?  Unreasonable baggage!  No, little Dingley, I am
+always in bed by twelve; I mean my candle is out by twelve, and I take
+great care of myself.  Pray let everybody know, upon occasion, that Mr.
+Harley got the First-Fruits from the Queen for the clergy of Ireland, and
+that nothing remains but the forms, etc.  So you say the Dean and you
+dined at Stoyte’s, and Mrs. Stoyte was in raptures that I remembered her.
+I must do it but seldom, or it will take off her rapture. But what now,
+you saucy sluts? all this written in a morning, and I must rise and go
+abroad.  Pray stay till night: do not think I will squander mornings upon
+you, pray, good madam.  Faith, if I go on longer in this trick of writing
+in the morning, I shall be afraid of leaving it off, and think you expect
+it, and be in awe.  Good-morrow, sirrahs, I will rise.—At night.  I went
+to-day to the Court of Requests (I will not answer the rest of your
+letter yet, that by the way), in hopes to dine with Mr. Harley: but Lord
+Dupplin, {94a} his son-in-law, told me he did not dine at home; so I was
+at a loss, until I met with Mr. Secretary St. John, and went home and
+dined with him, where he told me of a good bite. {94b}  Lord Rivers told
+me two days ago, that he was resolved to come Sunday fortnight next to
+hear me preach before the Queen.  I assured him the day was not yet
+fixed, and I knew nothing of it.  To-day the Secretary told me that his
+father, Sir Harry St. John, {94c} and Lord Rivers were to be at St.
+James’s Church, to hear me preach there; and were assured I was to
+preach: so there will be another bite; for I know nothing of the matter,
+but that Mr. Harley and St. John are resolved I must preach before the
+Queen; and the Secretary of State has told me he will give me three
+weeks’ warning; but I desired to be excused, which he will not.  St.
+John, “You shall not be excused”: however, I hope they will forget it;
+for if it should happen, all the puppies hereabouts will throng to hear
+me, and expect something wonderful, and be plaguily baulked; for I shall
+preach plain honest stuff.  I stayed with St. John till eight, and then
+came home; and Patrick desired leave to go abroad, and by and by comes up
+the girl to tell me, a gentleman was below in a coach, who had a bill to
+pay me; so I let him come up, and who should it be but Mr. Addison and
+Sam Dopping, to haul me out to supper, where I stayed till twelve.  If
+Patrick had been at home, I should have ’scaped this; for I have taught
+him to deny me almost as well as Mr. Harley’s porter.—Where did I leave
+off in MD’s letter? let me see.  So, now I have it.  You are pleased to
+say, Madam Dingley, that those who go for England can never tell when to
+come back.  Do you mean this as a reflection upon Presto, madam?
+Sauceboxes, I will come back as soon as I can, as hope saved, {95a} and I
+hope with some advantage, unless all Ministries be alike, as perhaps they
+may.  I hope Hawkshaw is in Dublin before now, and that you have your
+things, and like your spectacles: if you do not, you shall have better.
+I hope Dingley’s tobacco did not spoil Stella’s chocolate, and that all
+is safe: pray let me know.  Mr. Addison and I are different as black and
+white, and I believe our friendship will go off, by this damned business
+of party: he cannot bear seeing me fall in so with this Ministry: but I
+love him still as well as ever, though we seldom meet.—Hussy, Stella, you
+jest about poor Congreve’s eyes; {95b} you do so, hussy; but I’ll bang
+your bones, faith.—Yes, Steele was a little while in prison, or at least
+in a spunging-house, some time before I came, but not since. {95c}—Pox on
+your convocations, and your Lamberts; {95d} they write with a vengeance!
+I suppose you think it a piece of affectation in me to wish your Irish
+folks would not like my “Shower,”; but you are mistaken.  I should be
+glad to have the general applause there as I have here (though I say it);
+but I have only that of one or two, and therefore I would have none at
+all, but let you all be in the wrong.  I don’t know, this is not what I
+would say; but I am so tosticated with supper and stuff, that I can’t
+express myself.—What you say of “Sid Hamet” is well enough; that an enemy
+should like it, and a friend not; and that telling the author would make
+both change their opinions.  Why did you not tell Griffyth {95e} that you
+fancied there was something in it of my manner; but first spur up his
+commendation to the height, as we served my poor uncle about the sconce
+that I mended?  Well, I desired you to give what I intended for an answer
+to Mrs. Fenton, {96a} to save her postage, and myself trouble; and I hope
+I have done it, if you han’t.
+
+15.  Lord, what a long day’s writing was yesterday’s answer to your
+letter, sirrahs!  I dined to-day with Lewis and Ford, whom I have brought
+acquainted.  Lewis told me a pure thing.  I had been hankering with Mr.
+Harley to save Steele his other employment, and have a little mercy on
+him; and I had been saying the same thing to Lewis, who is Mr. Harley’s
+chief favourite.  Lewis tells Mr. Harley how kindly I should take it, if
+he would be reconciled to Steele, etc.  Mr. Harley, on my account, falls
+in with it, and appoints Steele a time to let him attend him, which
+Steele accepts with great submission, but never comes, nor sends any
+excuse.  Whether it was blundering, sullenness, insolence, or rancour of
+party, I cannot tell; but I shall trouble myself no more about him.  I
+believe Addison hindered him out of mere spite, being grated {96b} to the
+soul to think he should ever want my help to save his friend; yet now he
+is soliciting me to make another of his friends Queen’s Secretary at
+Geneva; and I’ll do it if I can; it is poor Pastoral Philips. {96c}
+
+16.  O, why did you leave my picture behind you at t’other lodgings?
+Forgot it?  Well; but pray remember it now, and don’t roll it up, d’ye
+hear; but hang it carefully in some part of your room, where chairs and
+candles and mop-sticks won’t spoil it, sirrahs.  No, truly, I will not be
+godfather to Goody Walls this bout, and I hope she will have no more.
+There will be no quiet nor cards for this child.  I hope it will die the
+day after the christening.  Mr. Harley gave me a paper, with an account
+of the sentence you speak of against the lads that defaced the statue,
+{97a} and that Ingoldsby {97b} reprieved that part of it of standing
+before the statue.  I hope it was never executed.  We have got your
+Broderick out; {97c} Doyne {97d} is to succeed him, and Cox {97e} Doyne.
+And so there’s an end of your letter; ’tis all answered; and now I must
+go on upon my own stock.  Go on, did I say?  Why, I have written enough;
+but this is too soon to send it yet, young women; faith, I dare not use
+you to it, you’ll always expect it; what remains shall be only short
+journals of a day, and so I’ll rise for this morning.—At night.  I dined
+with my opposite neighbour, Darteneuf; and I was soliciting this day to
+present the Bishop of Clogher Vice-Chancellor; {97f} but it won’t do;
+they are all set against him, and the Duke of Ormond, they say, has
+resolved to dispose of it somewhere else.  Well; little saucy rogues, do
+not stay out too late to-night, because it is Saturday night, and young
+women should come home soon then.
+
+17.  I went to Court to seek a dinner: but the Queen was not at church,
+she has got a touch of the gout; so the Court was thin, and I went to the
+Coffee-house; and Sir Thomas Frankland and his eldest son and I went and
+dined with his son William. {98a}  I talked a great deal to Sir Thomas
+about Manley; and find he is his good friend, and so has Ned Southwell
+been, and I hope he will be safe, though all the Irish folks here are his
+mortal enemies.  There was a devilish bite to-day.  They had it, I know
+not how, that I was to preach this morning at St. James’s Church; an
+abundance went, among the rest Lord Radnor, who never is abroad till
+three in the afternoon.  I walked all the way home from Hatton Garden at
+six, by moonlight, a delicate night.  Raymond called at nine, but I was
+denied; and now I am in bed between eleven and twelve, just going to
+sleep, and dream of my own dear roguish impudent pretty MD.
+
+18.  You will now have short days’ works, just a few lines to tell you
+where I am, and what I am doing; only I will keep room for the last day
+to tell you news, if there be any worth sending.  I have been sometimes
+like to do it at the top of my letter, until I remark it would be old
+before it reached you.  I was hunting to dine with Mr. Harley to-day, but
+could not find him; and so I dined with honest Dr. Cockburn, and came
+home at six, and was taken out to next door by Dopping and Ford, to drink
+bad claret and oranges; and we let Raymond come to us, who talks of
+leaving the town to-morrow, but I believe will stay a day or two longer.
+It is now late, and I will say no more, but end this line with bidding my
+own dear saucy MD good-night, etc.
+
+19.  I am come down proud stomach in one instance, for I went to-day to
+see the Duke of Buckingham, {98b} but came too late: then I visited Mrs.
+Barton, {98c} and thought to have dined with some of the Ministry; but it
+rained, and Mrs. Vanhomrigh was nigh, and I took the opportunity of
+paying her for a scarf she bought me, and dined there; at four I went to
+congratulate with Lord Shelburne, for the death of poor Lady Shelburne
+dowager; {99a} he was at his country house, and returned while I was
+there, and had not heard of it, and he took it very well.  I am now come
+home before six, and find a packet from the Bishop of Clogher, with one
+enclosed to the Duke of Ormond, which is ten days earlier dated than
+another I had from Parvisol; however, ’tis no matter, for the Duke has
+already disposed of the Vice-Chancellorship to the Archbishop of Tuam,
+{99b} and I could not help it, for it is a thing wholly you know in the
+Duke’s power; and I find the Bishop has enemies about the Duke.  I write
+this while Patrick is folding up my scarf, and doing up the fire (for I
+keep a fire, it costs me twelvepence a week); and so be quiet till I am
+gone to bed, and then sit down by me a little, and we will talk a few
+words more.  Well; now MD is at my bedside; and now what shall we say?
+How does Mrs. Stoyte?  What had the Dean for supper?  How much did Mrs.
+Walls win?  Poor Lady Shelburne: well, go get you to bed, sirrahs.
+
+20.  Morning.  I was up this morning early, and shaved by candlelight,
+and write this by the fireside.  Poor Raymond just came in and took his
+leave of me; he is summoned by high order from his wife, but pretends he
+has had enough of London.  I was a little melancholy to part with him; he
+goes to Bristol, where they are to be with his merchant brother, and now
+thinks of staying till May; so she must be brought to bed in England.  He
+was so easy and manageable, that I almost repent I suffered him to see me
+so seldom.  But he is gone, and will save Patrick some lies in a week:
+Patrick is grown admirable at it, and will make his fortune.  How now,
+sirrah, must I write in a morning to your impudence?
+
+    Stay till night,
+    And then I’ll write,
+    In black and white,
+    By candlelight,
+    Of wax so bright,
+    It helps the sight—
+    A bite, a bite!
+
+Marry come up, Mistress Boldface.—At night.  Dr. Raymond came back, and
+goes to-morrow.  I did not come home till eleven, and found him here to
+take leave of me.  I went to the Court of Requests, thinking to find Mr.
+Harley and dine with him, and refused Henley, and everybody, and at last
+knew not where to go, and met Jemmy Leigh by chance, and he was just in
+the same way, so I dined at his lodgings on a beef-steak, and drank your
+health; then left him and went to the tavern with Ben Tooke and Portlack,
+the Duke of Ormond’s secretary, drinking nasty white wine till eleven.  I
+am sick, and ashamed of it, etc.
+
+21.  I met that beast Ferris, Lord Berkeley’s {100a} steward formerly; I
+walked with him a turn in the Park, and that scoundrel dog is as happy as
+an emperor, has married a wife with a considerable estate in land and
+houses about this town, and lives at his ease at Hammersmith.  See your
+confounded sect! {100b}  Well; I had the same luck to-day with Mr.
+Harley; ’twas a lovely day, and went by water into the City, and dined
+with Stratford at a merchant’s house, and walked home with as great a
+dunce as Ferris, I mean honest Colonel Caulfeild, {100c} and came home by
+eight, and now am in bed, and going to sleep for a wager, and will send
+this letter on Saturday, and so; but first I will wish you a merry
+Christmas and a happy New Year, and pray God we may never keep them
+asunder again.
+
+22.  Morning.  I am going now to Mr. Harley’s levee on purpose to vex
+him; I will say I had no other way of seeing him, etc.  Patrick says it
+is a dark morning, and that the Duke of Argyle {101a} is to be knighted
+to-day; the booby means installed at Windsor.  But I must rise, for this
+is a shaving-day, and Patrick says there is a good fire; I wish MD were
+by it, or I by MD’s.—At night.  I forgot to tell you, Madam Dingley, that
+I paid nine shillings for your glass and spectacles, of which three were
+for the Bishop’s case: I am sorry I did not buy you such another case;
+but if you like it, I will bring one over with me; pray tell me: the
+glass to read was four shillings, the spectacles two.  And have you had
+your chocolate?  Leigh says he sent the petticoat by one Mr. Spencer.
+Pray have you no further commissions for me?  I paid the glass-man but
+last night, and he would have made me a present of the microscope worth
+thirty shillings, and would have sent it home along with me; I thought
+the deuce was in the man: he said I could do him more service than that
+was worth, etc.  I refused his present, but promised him all service I
+could do him; and so now I am obliged in honour to recommend him to
+everybody.—At night.  I went to Mr. Harley’s levee; he came and asked me
+what I had to do there, and bid me come and dine with him on a family
+dinner; which I did, and it was the first time I ever saw his lady {101b}
+and daughter; {101c} at five my Lord Keeper {101d} came in: I told Mr.
+Harley, he had formerly presented me to Sir Simon Harcourt, but now must
+to my Lord Keeper; so he laughed, etc.
+
+23.  Morning.  This letter goes to-night without fail; I hope there is
+none from you yet at the Coffee-house; I will send and see by and by, and
+let you know, and so and so.  Patrick goes to see for a letter: what will
+you lay, is there one from MD or no?  No, I say; done for sixpence.  Why
+has the Dean never once written to me?  I won sixpence; I won sixpence;
+there is not one letter to Presto.  Good-morrow, dear sirrahs: Stratford
+and I dine to-day with Lord Mountjoy.  God Almighty preserve and bless
+you; farewell, etc.
+
+I have been dining at Lord Mountjoy’s; and am come to study; our news
+from Spain this post takes off some of our fears.  The Parliament is
+prorogued to-day, or adjourned rather till after the holidays.  Bank
+Stock is 105, so I may get 12 shillings for my bargain already.  Patrick,
+the puppy, is abroad, and how shall I send this letter?  Good-night,
+little dears both, and be happy; and remember your poor Presto, that
+wants you sadly, as hope saved.  Let me go study, naughty girls, and
+don’t keep me at the bottom of the paper.  O, faith, if you knew what
+lies on my hands constantly, you would wonder to see how I could write
+such long letters; but we’ll talk of that some other time.  Good-night
+again, and God bless dear MD with His best blessings, yes, yes, and
+Dingley and Stella and me too, etc.
+
+Ask the Bishop of Clogher about the pun I sent him of Lord Stawel’s
+brother; {102} it will be a pure bite.  This letter has 199 lines in it,
+beside all postscripts; I had a curiosity to reckon.
+
+There is a long letter for you.
+
+It is longer than a sermon, faith.
+
+I had another letter from Mrs. Fenton, who says you were with her; I hope
+you did not go on purpose.  I will answer her letter soon; it is about
+some money in Lady Giffard’s hands.
+
+They say you have had eight packets due to you; so pray, madams, do not
+blame Presto, but the wind.
+
+My humble service to Mrs. Walls and Mrs. Stoyte; I missed the former a
+good while.
+
+
+
+LETTER XII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Dec._ 23, 1710.
+
+I HAVE sent my 11th to-night as usual, and begin the dozenth, and I told
+you I dined with Stratford at Lord Mountjoy’s, and I will tell you no
+more at present, guess for why; because I am going to mind things, and
+mighty affairs, not your nasty First-Fruits—I let them alone till Mr.
+Harley gets the Queen’s letter—but other things of greater moment, that
+you shall know one day, when the ducks have eaten up all the dirt.  So
+sit still a while just by me, while I am studying, and don’t say a word,
+I charge you, and when I am going to bed, I will take you along, and talk
+with you a little while, so there, sit there.—Come then, let us see what
+we have to say to these saucy brats, that will not let us go sleep at
+past eleven.  Why, I am a little impatient to know how you do; but that I
+take it for a standing maxim, that when you are silent, all is pretty
+well, because that is the way I will deal with you; and if there was
+anything you ought to know now, I would write by the first post, although
+I had written but the day before.  Remember this, young women; and God
+Almighty preserve you both, and make us happy together; and tell me how
+accompts stand between us, that you may be paid long before it is due,
+not to want.  I will return no more money while I stay, so that you need
+not be in pain to be paid; but let me know at least a month before you
+can want.  Observe this, d’ye hear, little dear sirrahs, and love Presto,
+as Presto loves MD, etc.
+
+24.  You will have a merrier Christmas Eve than we here.  I went up to
+Court before church; and in one of the rooms, there being but little
+company, a fellow in a red coat without a sword came up to me, and, after
+words of course, asked me how the ladies did?  I asked, “What ladies?”
+He said, “Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnson.”  “Very well,” said I, “when I
+heard from them last: and pray when came you from thence, sir?”  He said,
+“I never was in Ireland”; and just at that word Lord Winchelsea {104a}
+comes up to me, and the man went off: as I went out I saw him again, and
+recollected him, it was Vedeau {104b} with a pox: I then went and made my
+apologies, that my head was full of something I had to say to Lord
+Winchelsea, etc., and I asked after his wife, and so all was well; and he
+inquired after my lodging, because he had some favour to desire of me in
+Ireland, to recommend somebody to somebody, I know not what it is.  When
+I came from church, I went up to Court again, where Sir Edmond Bacon
+{104c} told me the bad news from Spain, {104d} which you will hear before
+this reaches you; as we have it now, we are undone there, and it was odd
+to see the whole countenances of the Court changed so in two hours.  Lady
+Mountjoy {104e} carried me home to dinner, where I stayed not long after,
+and came home early, and now am got into bed, for you must always write
+to your MD’s in bed, that is a maxim.
+
+    Mr. White and Mr. Red,
+    Write to MD when abed;
+    Mr. Black and Mr. Brown,
+    Write to MD when you’re down;
+    Mr. Oak and Mr. Willow,
+    Write to MD on your pillow.—
+
+What is this? faith, I smell fire; what can it be? this house has a
+thousand stinks in it.  I think to leave it on Thursday, and lodge over
+the way.  Faith, I must rise, and look at my chimney, for the smell grows
+stronger, stay—I have been up, and in my room, and found all safe, only a
+mouse within the fender to warm himself, which I could not catch.  I
+smelt nothing there, but now in my bed-chamber I smell it again; I
+believe I have singed the woollen curtain, and that is all, though I
+cannot smoke it.  Presto is plaguy silly to-night, an’t he?  Yes, and so
+he be.  Ay, but if I should wake and see fire.  Well; I will venture; so
+good-night, etc.
+
+25.  Pray, young women, if I write so much as this every day, how will
+this paper hold a fortnight’s work, and answer one of yours into the
+bargain?  You never think of this, but let me go on like a simpleton.  I
+wish you a merry Christmas, and many, many a one with poor Presto at some
+pretty place.  I was at church to-day by eight, and received the
+Sacrament, and came home by ten; then went to Court at two: it was a
+Collar-day, that is, when the Knights of the Garter wear their collars;
+but the Queen stayed so late at Sacrament, that I came back, and dined
+with my neighbour Ford, because all people dine at home on this day.
+This is likewise a Collar-day all over England in every house, at least
+where there is _brawn_: that’s very well.—I tell you a good pun; a fellow
+hard by pretends to cure agues, and has set out a sign, and spells it
+_egoes_; a gentleman and I observing it, he said, “How does that fellow
+pretend to cure _agues_?”  I said I did not know; but I was sure it was
+not by a _spell_.  That is admirable.  And so you asked the Bishop about
+that pun of Lord Stawel’s brother.  Bite!  Have I caught you, young
+women?  Must you pretend to ask after roguish puns, and Latin ones too?
+Oh but you smoked me, and did not ask the Bishop.  Oh but you are a fool,
+and you did.  I met Vedeau again at Court to-day, and I observed he had a
+sword on; I fancy he was broke, and has got a commission, but I never
+asked him.  Vedeau I think his name is, yet Parvisol’s man is Vedel, that
+is true.  Bank Stock will fall like stock-fish by this bad news, and two
+days ago I could have got twelve pounds by my bargain; but I do not
+intend to sell, and in time it will rise.  It is odd that my Lord
+Peterborow foretold this loss two months ago, one night at Mr. Harley’s,
+when I was there; he bid us count upon it, that Stanhope would lose Spain
+before Christmas; that he would venture his head upon it, and gave us
+reasons; and though Mr. Harley argued the contrary, he still held to his
+opinion.  I was telling my Lord Angelsea this at Court this morning; and
+a gentleman by said he had heard my Lord Peterborow affirm the same
+thing.  I have heard wise folks say, “An ill tongue may do much.”  And
+’tis an odd saying,
+
+    “Once I guessed right,
+    And I got credit by’t;
+    Thrice I guessed wrong,
+    And I kept my credit on.”
+
+No, it is you are sorry, not I.
+
+26.  By the Lord Harry, I shall be undone here with Christmas boxes.  The
+rogues of the Coffee-house have raised their tax, everyone giving a
+crown; and I gave mine for shame, besides a great many half-crowns to
+great men’s porters, etc.  I went to-day by water into the city, and
+dined with no less a man than the City Printer. {106a}  There is an
+intimacy between us, built upon reasons that you shall know when I see
+you; but the rain caught me within twelvepenny length of home.  I called
+at Mr. Harley’s, who was not within, dropped my half-crown with his
+porter, drove to the Coffee-house, where the rain kept me till nine.  I
+had letters to-day from the Archbishop of Dublin and Mr. Bernage; {106b}
+the latter sends me a melancholy account of Lady Shelburne’s {106c}
+death, and his own disappointments, and would gladly be a captain; if I
+can help him, I will.
+
+27.  Morning.  I bespoke a lodging over the way for to-morrow, and the
+dog let it yesterday to another; I gave him no earnest, so it seems he
+could do it; Patrick would have had me give him earnest to bind him; but
+I would not.  So I must go saunter to-day for a lodging somewhere else.
+Did you ever see so open a winter in England?  We have not had two frosty
+days; but it pays it off in rain: we have not had three fair days these
+six weeks.  O, faith, I dreamt mightily of MD last night; but so
+confused, I cannot tell a word.  I have made Ford acquainted with Lewis;
+and to-day we dined together: in the evening I called at one or two
+neighbours, hoping to spend a Christmas evening; but none were at home,
+they were all gone to be merry with others.  I have often observed this,
+that in merry times everybody is abroad; where the deuce are they?  So I
+went to the Coffee-house, and talked with Mr. Addison an hour, who at
+last remembered to give me two letters, which I cannot answer to-night,
+nor to-morrow neither, I can assure you, young women, count upon that.  I
+have other things to do than to answer naughty girls, an old saying and
+true,
+
+    Letters from MD’s
+    Must not be answered in ten days:
+
+it is but bad rhyme, etc.
+
+28.  To-day I had a message from Sir Thomas Hanmer, to dine with him; the
+famous Dr. Smalridge {107a} was of the company, and we sat till six; and
+I came home to my new lodgings in St. Albans Street, {107b} where I pay
+the same rent (eight shillings a week) for an apartment two pair of
+stairs; but I have the use of the parlour to receive persons of quality,
+and I am got into my new bed, etc.
+
+29.  Sir Andrew Fountaine has been very ill this week; and sent to me
+early this morning to have prayers, which you know is the last thing.  I
+found the doctors and all in despair about him.  I read prayers to him,
+found he had settled all things; and, when I came out, the nurse asked me
+whether I thought it possible he could live; for the doctors thought not.
+I said, I believed he would live; for I found the seeds of life in him,
+which I observe seldom fail (and I found them in poor, dearest Stella,
+when she was ill many years ago); and to-night I was with him again, and
+he was mightily recovered, and I hope he will do well, and the doctor
+approved my reasons; but, if he should die, I should come off scurvily.
+The Secretary of State (Mr. St. John) sent to me to dine with him; Mr.
+Harley and Lord Peterborow dined there too; and at night came Lord
+Rivers.  Lord Peterborow goes to Vienna in a day or two: he has promised
+to make me write to him.  Mr. Harley went away at six; but we stayed till
+seven.  I took the Secretary aside, and complained to him of Mr. Harley,
+that he had got the Queen to grant the First-Fruits, promised to bring me
+to her, and get her letter to the bishops of Ireland; but the last part
+he had not done in six weeks, and I was in danger to lose reputation,
+etc.  He took the matter right, desired me to be with him on Sunday
+morning, and promises me to finish the affair in four days; so I shall
+know in a little time what I have to trust to.—It is nine o’clock, and I
+must go study, you little rogues; and so good-night, etc.
+
+30.  Morning.  The weather grows cold, you sauceboxes.  Sir Andrew
+Fountaine, they bring me word, is better.  I will go rise, for my hands
+are starving while I write in bed.  Night.  Now Sir Andrew Fountaine is
+recovering, he desires to be at ease; for I called in the morning to read
+prayers, but he had given orders not to be disturbed.  I have lost a
+legacy by his living; for he told me he had left me a picture and some
+books, etc.  I called to see my quondam neighbour Ford (do you know what
+_quondam_ is, though?), and he engaged me to dine with him; for he always
+dines at home on Opera-days.  I came home at six, writ to the Archbishop,
+then studied till past eleven, and stole to bed, to write to MD these few
+lines, to let you know I am in good health at the present writing hereof,
+and hope in God MD is so too.  I wonder I never write politics to you: I
+could make you the profoundest politician in all the lane.—Well, but when
+shall we answer this letter, No. 8 of MD’s?  Not till next year, faith.
+O Lord—bo—but that will be a Monday next.  Cod’s-so, is it? and so it is:
+never saw the like.—I made a pun t’other day to Ben Portlack {109} about
+a pair of drawers.  Poh, said he, that’s mine a— all over.  Pray, pray,
+Dingley, let me go sleep; pray, pray, Stella, let me go slumber; and put
+out my wax-candle.
+
+31.  Morning.  It is now seven, and I have got a fire, but am writing
+abed in my bed-chamber.  ’Tis not shaving-day, so I shall be ready early
+to go before church to Mr. St. John; and to-morrow I will answer our MD’s
+letter.
+
+    Would you answer MD’s letter,
+    On New Year’s Day you’ll do it better;
+    For, when the year with MD ’gins,
+    It without MD never lins.
+
+(These proverbs have always old words in them; lins is leave off.)
+
+    But, if on New Year you write nones,
+    MD then will bang your bones.
+
+But Patrick says I must rise.—Night.  I was early this morning with
+Secretary St. John, and gave him a memorial to get the Queen’s letter for
+the First-Fruits, who has promised to do it in a very few days.  He told
+me he had been with the Duke of Marlborough, who was lamenting his former
+wrong steps in joining with the Whigs, and said he was worn out with age,
+fatigues, and misfortunes.  I swear it pitied me; and I really think they
+will not do well in too much mortifying that man, although indeed it is
+his own fault.  He is covetous as hell, and ambitious as the Prince of
+it: he would fain have been General for life, and has broken all
+endeavours for peace, to keep his greatness and get money.  He told the
+Queen he was neither covetous nor ambitious.  She said if she could have
+conveniently turned about, she would have laughed, and could hardly
+forbear it in his face.  He fell in with all the abominable measures of
+the late Ministry, because they gratified him for their own designs.  Yet
+he has been a successful General, and I hope he will continue his
+command.  O Lord, smoke the politics to MD!  Well; but, if you like them,
+I will scatter a little now and then, and mine are all fresh from the
+chief hands.  Well, I dined with Mr. Harley, and came away at six: there
+was much company, and I was not merry at all.  Mr. Harley made me read a
+paper of verses of Prior’s.  I read them plain, without any fine manner;
+and Prior swore, I should never read any of his again; but he would be
+revenged, and read some of mine as bad.  I excused myself, and said I was
+famous for reading verses the worst in the world; and that everybody
+snatched them from me when I offered to begin.  So we laughed.—Sir Andrew
+Fountaine still continues ill.  He is plagued with some sort of bile.
+
+Jan. 1.  Morning.  I wish my dearest, pretty Dingley and Stella a happy
+New Year, and health, and mirth, and good stomachs, and Fr’s company.
+Faith, I did not know how to write Fr.  I wondered what was the matter;
+but now I remember I always write Pdfr.  Patrick wishes me a happy New
+Year, and desires I would rise, for it is a good fire, and faith ’tis
+cold.  I was so politic last night with MD, never saw the like.  Get the
+_Examiners_, and read them; the last nine or ten are full of the reasons
+for the late change, and of the abuses of the last Ministry; and the
+great men assure me they are all true.  They are written by their
+encouragement and direction.  I must rise and go see Sir Andrew
+Fountaine; but perhaps to-night I may answer MD’s letter: so good-morrow,
+my mistresses all, good-morrow.
+
+    I wish you both a merry New Year,
+    Roast beef, minced pies, and good strong beer,
+    And me a share of your good cheer,
+    That I was there, or you were here;
+    And you’re a little saucy dear.
+
+Good-morrow again, dear sirrahs; one cannot rise for your play.—At night.
+I went this morning to visit Lady Kerry and Lord Shelburne; and they made
+me dine with them.  Sir Andrew Fountaine is better.  And now let us come
+and see what this saucy, dear letter of MD says.  Come out, letter, come
+out from between the sheets; here it is underneath, and it will not come
+out.  Come out again, I say: so there.  Here it is.  What says Presto to
+me, pray? says it.  Come, and let me answer for you to your ladies.  Hold
+up your head then, like a good letter.  There.  Pray, how have you got up
+with Presto, Madam Stella?  You write your eighth when you receive mine:
+now I write my twelfth when I receive your eighth.  Do not you allow for
+what are upon the road, simpleton?  What say you to that?  And so you
+kept Presto’s little birthday, I warrant: would to God I had been at the
+health rather than here, where I have no manner of pleasure, nothing but
+eternal business upon my hands.  I shall grow wise in time; but no more
+of that: only I say Amen with my heart and vitals, that we may never be
+asunder again ten days together while poor Presto lives.—————————————I
+can’t be merry so near any splenetic talk; so I made that long line, and
+now all’s well again.  Yes, you are a pretending slut, indeed, with your
+fourth and fifth in the margin, and your journal, and everything.
+Wind—we saw no wind here, nothing at all extraordinary at any time.  We
+had it once when you had it not.  But an old saying and a true:
+
+    “I hate all wind,
+    Before and behind,
+    From cheeks with eyes,
+    Or from blind.—”
+
+Your chimney fall down!  God preserve you.  I suppose you only mean a
+brick or two: but that’s a d—ned lie of your chimney being carried to the
+next house with the wind.  Don’t put such things upon us; those matters
+will not pass here: keep a little to possibilities.  My Lord Hertford
+{112a} would have been ashamed of such a stretch.  You should take care
+of what company you converse with: when one gets that faculty, ’tis hard
+to break one’s self of it.  Jemmy Leigh talks of going over; but
+_quando_?  I do not know when he will go.  Oh, now you have had my ninth,
+now you are come up with me; marry come up with you, indeed.  I know all
+that business of Lady S—. {112b}  Will nobody cut that D—y’s throat?
+Five hundred pounds do you call poor pay for living three months the life
+of a king?  They say she died with grief, partly, being forced to appear
+as a witness in court about some squabble among their servants.—The
+Bishop of Clogher showed you a pamphlet. {112c}  Well, but you must not
+give your mind to believe those things; people will say anything.  The
+_Character_ is here reckoned admirable, but most of the facts are
+trifles.  It was first printed privately here; and then some bold cur
+ventured to do it publicly, and sold two thousand in two days: who the
+author is must remain uncertain.  Do you pretend to know, impudence?  How
+durst you think so?  Pox on your Parliaments: the Archbishop has told me
+of it; but we do not vouchsafe to know anything of it here.  No, no, no
+more of your giddiness yet; thank you, Stella, for asking after it; thank
+you; God Almighty bless you for your kindness to poor Presto.  You write
+to Lady Giffard and your mother upon what I advise when it is too late.
+But yet I fancy this bad news will bring down stocks so low, that one
+might buy to great advantage.  I design to venture going to see your
+mother some day when Lady Giffard is abroad.  Well, keep your Rathburn
+{112d} and stuff.  I thought he was to pay in your money upon his houses
+to be flung down about the what do you call it.—Well, Madam Dingley, I
+sent your enclosed to Bristol, but have not heard from Raymond since he
+went.  Come, come, young women, I keep a good fire; it costs me
+twelvepence a week, and I fear something more; vex me, and I will have
+one in my bed-chamber too.  No, did not I tell you but just now, we have
+no high winds here?  Have you forgot already?—Now you’re at it again,
+silly Stella; why does your mother say my candles are scandalous?  They
+are good sixes in the pound, and she said I was extravagant enough to
+burn them by daylight.  I never burn fewer at a time than one.  What
+would people have?  The D— burst Hawkshaw.  He told me he had not the
+box; and the next day Sterne told me he had sent it a fortnight ago.
+Patrick could not find him t’other day, but he shall to-morrow.  Dear
+life and heart, do you tease me? does Stella tease Presto?  That
+palsy-water was in the box; it was too big for a packet, and I was afraid
+of its breaking.  Leigh was not in town then; or I would not have trusted
+it to Sterne, whom yet I have befriended enough to do me more kindness
+than that.  I’ll never rest till you have it, or till it is in a way for
+you to have it.  Poor dear rogue, naughty to think it teases me; how
+could I ever forgive myself for neglecting anything that related to your
+health?  Sure I were a Devil if I did. ———————————— See how far I am
+forced to stand from Stella, because I am afraid she thinks poor Presto
+has not been careful about her little things; I am sure I bought them
+immediately according to order, and packed them up with my own hands, and
+sent them to Sterne, and was six times with him about sending them away.
+I am glad you are pleased with your glasses.  I have got another velvet
+cap; a new one Lord Herbert {113} bought and presented me one morning I
+was at breakfast with him, where he was as merry and easy as ever I saw
+him, yet had received a challenge half an hour before, and half an hour
+after fought a duel.  It was about ten days ago.  You are mistaken in
+your guesses about _Tatlers_: I did neither write that on Noses nor
+Religion, {114} nor do I send him of late any hints at all.—Indeed,
+Stella, when I read your letter, I was not uneasy at all; but when I came
+to answer the particulars, and found that you had not received your box,
+it grated me to the heart, because I thought, through your little words,
+that you imagined I had not taken the care I ought.  But there has been
+some blunder in this matter, which I will know to-morrow, and write to
+Sterne, for fear he should not be within.—And pray, pray, Presto, pray
+now do.—No, Raymond was not above four times with me while he stayed, and
+then only while I was dressing.  Mrs. Fenton has written me another
+letter about some money of hers in Lady Giffard’s hands, that is
+entrusted to me by my mother, not to come to her husband.  I send my
+letters constantly every fortnight, and, if you will have them oftener,
+you may, but then they will be the shorter.  Pray, let Parvisol sell the
+horse.  I think I spoke to you of it in a former letter: I am glad you
+are rid of him, and was in pain while I thought you rode him; but, if he
+would buy you another, or anybody else, and that you could be often able
+to ride, why do not you do it?
+
+2.  I went this morning early to the Secretary of State, Mr. St. John;
+and he told me from Mr. Harley that the warrant was now drawn, in order
+for a patent for the First-Fruits: it must pass through several offices,
+and take up some time, because in things the Queen gives they are always
+considerate; but that, he assures me, ’tis granted and done, and past all
+dispute, and desires I will not be in any pain at all.  I will write
+again to the Archbishop to-morrow, and tell him this, and I desire you
+will say it on occasion.  From the Secretary I went to Mr. Sterne, who
+said he would write to you to-night; and that the box must be at Chester;
+and that some friend of his goes very soon, and will carry it over.  I
+dined with Mr. Secretary St. John, and at six went to Darteneufs house to
+drink punch with him, and Mr. Addison, and little Harrison, {115a} a
+young poet, whose fortune I am making.  Steele was to have been there,
+but came not, nor never did twice, since I knew him, to any appointment.
+I stayed till past eleven, and am now in bed.  Steele’s last _Tatler_
+came out to-day.  You will see it before this comes to you, and how he
+takes leave of the world.  He never told so much as Mr. Addison of it,
+who was surprised as much as I; but, to say the truth, it was time, for
+he grew cruel dull and dry.  To my knowledge he had several good hints to
+go upon; but he was so lazy and weary of the work that he would not
+improve them.  I think I will send this after {115b} to-morrow: shall I
+before ’tis full, Dingley?
+
+3.  Lord Peterborow yesterday called me into a barber’s shop, and there
+we talked deep politics: he desired me to dine with him to-day at the
+Globe in the Strand; he said he would show me so clearly how to get
+Spain, that I could not possibly doubt it.  I went to-day accordingly,
+and saw him among half a dozen lawyers and attorneys and hang-dogs,
+signing of deeds and stuff before his journey; for he goes to-morrow to
+Vienna.  I sat among that scurvy company till after four, but heard
+nothing of Spain; only I find, by what he told me before, that he fears
+he shall do no good in his present journey. {115c}  We are to be mighty
+constant correspondents.  So I took my leave of him, and called at Sir
+Andrew Fountaine’s, who mends much.  I came home, an’t please you, at
+six, and have been studying till now past eleven.
+
+4.  Morning.  Morrow, little dears.  O, faith, I have been dreaming; I
+was to be put in prison.  I do not know why, and I was so afraid of a
+black dungeon; and then all I had been inquiring yesterday of Sir Andrew
+Fountaine’s sickness I thought was of poor Stella.  The worst of dreams
+is, that one wakes just in the humour they leave one.  Shall I send this
+to-day?  With all my heart: it is two days within the fortnight; but may
+be MD are in haste to have a round dozen: and then how are you come up to
+me with your eighth, young women?  But you indeed ought to write twice
+slower than I, because there are two of you; I own that.  Well then, I
+will seal up this letter by my morning candle, and carry it into the city
+with me, where I go to dine, and put it into the post-office with my own
+fair hands.  So, let me see whether I have any news to tell MD.  They say
+they will very soon make some inquiries into the corruptions of the late
+Ministry; and they must do it, to justify their turning them out.
+Atterbury, {116a} we think, is to be Dean of Christ Church in Oxford; but
+the College would rather have Smalridge—What’s all this to you?  What
+care you for Atterburys and Smalridges?  No, you care for nothing but
+Presto, faith.  So I will rise, and bid you farewell; yet I am loth to do
+so, because there is a great bit of paper yet to talk upon; but Dingley
+will have it so: “Yes,” says she, “make your journals shorter, and send
+them oftener;” and so I will.  And I have cheated you another way too;
+for this is clipped paper, and holds at least six lines less than the
+former ones.  I will tell you a good thing I said to my Lord Carteret.
+{116b}  “So,” says he, “my Lord came up to me, and asked me,” etc.  “No,”
+said I, “my Lord never did, nor ever can come up to you.”  We all pun
+here sometimes.  Lord Carteret set down Prior t’other day in his chariot;
+and Prior thanked him for his _charity_; that was fit for Dilly. {117a}
+I do not remember I heard one good one from the Ministry; which is really
+a shame.  Henley is gone to the country for Christmas.  The puppy comes
+here without his wife, {117b} and keeps no house, and would have me dine
+with him at eating-houses; but I have only done it once, and will do it
+no more.  He had not seen me for some time in the Coffee-house, and
+asking after me, desired Lord Herbert to tell me I was a beast for ever,
+after the order of Melchisedec.  Did you ever read the Scripture? {117c}
+It is only changing the word priest to beast.—I think I am bewitched, to
+write so much in a morning to you, little MD.  Let me go, will you? and
+I’ll come again to-night in a fine clean sheet of paper; but I can nor
+will stay no longer now; no, I won’t, for all your wheedling: no, no,
+look off, do not smile at me, and say, “Pray, pray, Presto, write a
+little more.”  Ah! you are a wheedling slut, you be so.  Nay, but prithee
+turn about, and let me go, do; ’tis a good girl, and do.  O, faith, my
+morning candle is just out, and I must go now in spite of my teeth; for
+my bed-chamber is dark with curtains, and I am at the wrong side.  So
+farewell, etc. etc.
+
+I am in the dark almost: I must have another candle, when I am up, to
+seal this; but I will fold it up in the dark, and make what you can of
+this, for I can only see this paper I am writing upon.  Service to Mrs.
+Walls and Mrs. Stoyte.
+
+God Almighty bless you, etc.  What I am doing I can’t see; but I will
+fold it up, and not look on it again.
+
+
+
+LETTER XIII.
+
+
+                                                LONDON, _Jan._ 4, 1710–11.
+
+I WAS going into the City (where I dined) and put my 12th, with my own
+fair hands, into the post-office as I came back, which was not till nine
+this night.  I dined with people that you never heard of, nor is it worth
+your while to know; an authoress and a printer. {118a}  I walked home for
+exercise, and at eleven got to bed; and, all the while I was undressing
+myself, there was I speaking monkey things in air, just as if MD had been
+by, and did not recollect myself till I got into bed.  I writ last night
+to the Archbishop, and told him the warrant was drawn for the
+First-Fruits; and I told him Lord Peterborow was set out for his journey
+to Vienna; but it seems the Lords have addressed to have him stay, to be
+examined about Spanish affairs, upon this defeat there, and to know where
+the fault lay, etc.  So I writ to the Archbishop a lie; but I think it
+was not a sin.
+
+5.  Mr. Secretary St. John sent for me this morning so early, that I was
+forced to go without shaving, which put me quite out of method.  I called
+at Mr. Ford’s, and desired him to lend me a shaving; and so made a shift
+to get into order again.  Lord! here is an impertinence: Sir Andrew
+Fountaine’s mother and sister {118b} are come above a hundred miles, from
+Worcester, to see him before he died.  They got here but yesterday; and
+he must have been past hopes, or past fears, before they could reach him.
+I fell a scolding when I heard they were coming; and the people about him
+wondered at me, and said what a mighty content it would be on both sides
+to die when they were with him!  I knew the mother; she is the greatest
+Overdo {118c} upon earth; and the sister, they say, is worse; the poor
+man will relapse again among them.  Here was the scoundrel brother always
+crying in the outer room till Sir Andrew was in danger; and the dog was
+to have all his estate if he died; and it is an ignorant, worthless,
+scoundrel-rake: and the nurses were comforting him, and desiring he would
+not take on so.  I dined to-day the first time with Ophy Butler {119a}
+and his wife; and you supped with the Dean, and lost two-and-twenty pence
+at cards.  And so Mrs. Walls is brought to bed of a girl, who died two
+days after it was christened; and, betwixt you and me, she is not very
+sorry: she loves her ease and diversions too well to be troubled with
+children.  I will go to bed.
+
+6.  Morning.  I went last night to put some coals on my fire after
+Patrick was gone to bed; and there I saw in a closet a poor linnet he has
+bought to bring over to Dingley: it cost him sixpence, and is as tame as
+a dormouse.  I believe he does not know he is a bird: where you put him,
+there he stands, and seems to have neither hope nor fear; I suppose in a
+week he will die of the spleen.  Patrick advised with me before he bought
+him.  I laid fairly before him the greatness of the sum, and the rashness
+of the attempt; showed how impossible it was to carry him safe over the
+salt sea: but he would not take my counsel; and he will repent it.  ’Tis
+very cold this morning in bed; and I hear there is a good fire in the
+room without (what do you call it?), the dining-room.  I hope it will be
+good weather, and so let me rise, sirrahs, do so.—At night.  I was this
+morning to visit the Dean, {119b} or Mr. Prolocutor, I think you call
+him, don’t you?  Why should not I go to the Dean’s as well as you?  A
+little, black man, of pretty near fifty?  Ay, the same.  A good, pleasant
+man?  Ay, the same.  Cunning enough?  Yes.  One that understands his own
+interests?  As well as anybody.  How comes it MD and I don’t meet there
+sometimes?  A very good face, and abundance of wit?  Do you know his
+lady?  O Lord! whom do you mean? {120a}  I mean Dr. Atterbury, Dean of
+Carlisle and Prolocutor.  Pshaw, Presto, you are a fool: I thought you
+had meant our Dean of St. Patrick’s.—Silly, silly, silly, you are silly,
+both are silly, every kind of thing is silly.  As I walked into the city
+I was stopped with clusters of boys and wenches buzzing about the
+cake-shops like flies. {120b}  There had the fools let out their shops
+two yards forward into the streets, all spread with great cakes frothed
+with sugar, and stuck with streamers of tinsel.  And then I went to
+Bateman’s the bookseller, and laid out eight-and-forty shillings for
+books.  I bought three little volumes of Lucian in French for our Stella,
+and so and so.  Then I went to Garraway’s {120c} to meet Stratford and
+dine with him; but it was an idle day with the merchants, and he was gone
+to our end of the town: so I dined with Sir Thomas Frankland at the Post
+Office, and we drank your Manley’s health.  It was in a newspaper that he
+was turned out; but Secretary St. John told me it was false: only that
+newswriter is a plaguy Tory.  I have not seen one bit of Christmas
+merriment.
+
+7.  Morning.  Your new Lord Chancellor {120d} sets out to-morrow for
+Ireland: I never saw him.  He carries over one Trapp {120e} a parson as
+his chaplain, a sort of pretender to wit, a second-rate pamphleteer for
+the cause, whom they pay by sending him to Ireland.  I never saw Trapp
+neither.  I met Tighe {120f} and your Smyth of Lovet’s yesterday by the
+Exchange.  Tighe and I took no notice of each other; but I stopped Smyth,
+and told him of the box that lies for you at Chester, because he says he
+goes very soon to Ireland, I think this week: and I will send this
+morning to Sterne, to take measures with Smyth; so good-morrow, sirrahs,
+and let me rise, pray.  I took up this paper when I came in at evening, I
+mean this minute, and then said I, “No, no, indeed, MD, you must stay”;
+and then was laying it aside, but could not for my heart, though I am
+very busy, till I just ask you how you do since morning; by and by we
+shall talk more, so let me leave you: softly down, little paper, till
+then; so there—now to business; there, I say, get you gone; no, I will
+not push you neither, but hand you on one side—So—Now I am got into bed,
+I’ll talk with you.  Mr. Secretary St. John sent for me this morning in
+all haste; but I would not lose my shaving, for fear of missing church.
+I went to Court, which is of late always very full; and young Manley and
+I dined at Sir Matthew Dudley’s.—I must talk politics.  I protest I am
+afraid we shall all be embroiled with parties.  The Whigs, now they are
+fallen, are the most malicious toads in the world.  We have had now a
+second misfortune, the loss of several Virginia ships.  I fear people
+will begin to think that nothing thrives under this Ministry: and if the
+Ministry can once be rendered odious to the people, the Parliament may be
+chosen Whig or Tory as the Queen pleases.  Then I think our friends press
+a little too hard on the Duke of Marlborough.  The country members {121}
+are violent to have past faults inquired into, and they have reason; but
+I do not observe the Ministry to be very fond of it.  In my opinion we
+have nothing to save us but a Peace; and I am sure we cannot have such a
+one as we hoped; and then the Whigs will bawl what they would have done
+had they continued in power.  I tell the Ministry this as much as I dare;
+and shall venture to say a little more to them, especially about the Duke
+of Marlborough, who, as the Whigs give out, will lay down his command;
+and I question whether ever any wise State laid aside a general who had
+been successful nine years together, whom the enemy so much dread, and
+his own soldiers cannot but believe must always conquer; and you know
+that in war opinion is nine parts in ten.  The Ministry hear me always
+with appearance of regard, and much kindness; but I doubt they let
+personal quarrels mingle too much with their proceedings.  Meantime, they
+seem to value all this as nothing, and are as easy and merry as if they
+had nothing in their hearts or upon their shoulders; like physicians, who
+endeavour to cure, but feel no grief, whatever the patient
+suffers.—Pshaw, what is all this?  Do you know one thing, that I find I
+can write politics to you much easier than to anybody alive?  But I swear
+my head is full; and I wish I were at Laracor, with dear, charming MD,
+etc.
+
+8.  Morning.  Methinks, young women, I have made a great progress in four
+days, at the bottom of this side already, and no letter yet come from MD
+(that word interlined is morning).  I find I have been writing State
+affairs to MD.  How do they relish it?  Why, anything that comes from
+Presto is welcome; though really, to confess the truth, if they had their
+choice, not to disguise the matter, they had rather, etc.  Now, Presto, I
+must tell you, you grow silly, says Stella.  That is but one body’s
+opinion, madam.  I promised to be with Mr. Secretary St. John this
+morning; but I am lazy, and will not go, because I had a letter from him
+yesterday, to desire I would dine there to-day.  I shall be chid; but
+what care I?—Here has been Mrs. South with me, just come from Sir Andrew
+Fountaine, and going to market.  He is still in a fever, and may live or
+die.  His mother and sister are now come up, and in the house; so there
+is a lurry. {122}  I gave Mrs. South half a pistole for a New Year’s
+gift.  So good-morrow, dears both, till anon.—At night.  Lord! I have
+been with Mr. Secretary from dinner till eight; and, though I drank wine
+and water, I am so hot!  Lady Stanley {123a} came to visit Mrs. St. John,
+{123b} and sent up for me to make up a quarrel with Mrs. St. John, whom I
+never yet saw; and do you think that devil of a Secretary would let me
+go, but kept me by main force, though I told him I was in love with his
+lady, and it was a shame to keep back a lover, etc.?  But all would not
+do; so at last I was forced to break away, but never went up, it was then
+too late; and here I am, and have a great deal to do to-night, though it
+be nine o’clock; but one must say something to these naughty MD’s, else
+there will be no quiet.
+
+9.  To-day Ford and I set apart to go into the City to buy books; but we
+only had a scurvy dinner at an alehouse; and he made me go to the tavern
+and drink Florence, four and sixpence a flask; damned wine! so I spent my
+money, which I seldom do, and passed an insipid day, and saw nobody, and
+it is now ten o’clock, and I have nothing to say, but that ’tis a
+fortnight to-morrow since I had a letter from MD; but if I have it time
+enough to answer here, ’tis well enough, otherwise woe betide you, faith.
+I will go to the toyman’s, here just in Pall Mall, and he sells great
+hugeous battoons; {123c} yes, faith, and so he does.  Does not he,
+Dingley?  Yes, faith.  Don’t lose your money this Christmas.
+
+10.  I must go this morning to Mr. Secretary St. John.  I promised
+yesterday, but failed, so can’t write any more till night to poor, dear
+MD.—At night.  O, faith, Dingley.  I had company in the morning, and
+could not go where I designed; and I had a basket from Raymond at
+Bristol, with six bottles of wine and a pound of chocolate, and some
+tobacco to snuff; and he writ under, the carriage was paid; but he lied,
+or I am cheated, or there is a mistake; and he has written to me so
+confusedly about some things, that Lucifer could not understand him.
+This wine is to be drunk with Harley’s brother {124a} and Sir Robert
+Raymond, Solicitor-General, in order to recommend the Doctor to your new
+Lord Chancellor, who left this place on Monday; and Raymond says he is
+hasting to Chester, to go with him.—I suppose he leaves his wife behind;
+for when he left London he had no thoughts of stirring till summer.  So I
+suppose he will be with you before this.  Ford came and desired I would
+dine with him, because it was Opera-day; which I did, and sent excuses to
+Lord Shelburne, who had invited me.
+
+11.  I am setting up a new Tatler, little Harrison, {124b} whom I have
+mentioned to you.  Others have put him on it, and I encourage him; and he
+was with me this morning and evening, showing me his first, which comes
+out on Saturday.  I doubt he will not succeed, for I do not much approve
+his manner; but the scheme is Mr. Secretary St. John’s and mine, and
+would have done well enough in good hands.  I recommended him to a
+printer, {124c} whom I sent for, and settled the matter between them this
+evening.  Harrison has just left me, and I am tired with correcting his
+trash.
+
+12.  I was this morning upon some business with Mr. Secretary St. John,
+and he made me promise to dine with him; which otherwise I would have
+done with Mr. Harley, whom I have not been with these ten days.  I cannot
+but think they have mighty difficulties upon them; yet I always find them
+as easy and disengaged as schoolboys on a holiday.  Harley has the
+procuring of five or six millions on his shoulders, and the Whigs will
+not lend a groat; {125a} which is the only reason of the fall of stocks:
+for they are like Quakers and fanatics, that will only deal among
+themselves, while all others deal indifferently with them.  Lady
+Marlborough offers, if they will let her keep her employments, never to
+come into the Queen’s presence.  The Whigs say the Duke of Marlborough
+will serve no more; but I hope and think otherwise.  I would to Heaven I
+were this minute with MD at Dublin; for I am weary of politics, that give
+me such melancholy prospects.
+
+13.  O, faith, I had an ugly giddy fit last night in my chamber, and I
+have got a new box of pills to take, and hope I shall have no more this
+good while.  I would not tell you before, because it would vex you,
+little rogues; but now it is over.  I dined to-day with Lord Shelburne;
+and to-day little Harrison’s new _Tatler_ came out: there is not much in
+it, but I hope he will mend.  You must understand that, upon Steele’s
+leaving off, there were two or three scrub _Tatlers_ {125b} came out, and
+one of them holds on still, and to-day it advertised against Harrison’s;
+and so there must be disputes which are genuine, like the strops for
+razors. {125c}  I am afraid the little toad has not the true vein for it.
+I will tell you a copy of verses.  When Mr. St. John was turned out from
+being Secretary at War, three years ago, he retired to the country: there
+he was talking of something he would have written over his summer-house,
+and a gentleman gave him these verses—
+
+    From business and the noisy world retired,
+    Nor vexed by love, nor by ambition fired;
+    Gently I wait the call of Charon’s boat,
+    Still drinking like a fish, and — like a stoat.
+
+He swore to me he could hardly bear the jest; for he pretended to retire
+like a philosopher, though he was but twenty-eight years old: and I
+believe the thing was true: for he had been a thorough rake.  I think the
+three grave lines do introduce the last well enough.  Od so, but I will
+go sleep; I sleep early now.
+
+14.  O, faith, young women, I want a letter from MD; ’tis now nineteen
+days since I had the last: and where have I room to answer it, pray?  I
+hope I shall send this away without any answer at all; for I’ll hasten
+it, and away it goes on Tuesday, by which time this side will be full.  I
+will send it two days sooner on purpose out of spite; and the very next
+day after, you must know, your letter will come, and then ’tis too late,
+and I will so laugh, never saw the like!  ’Tis spring with us already.  I
+ate asparagus t’other day.  Did you ever see such a frostless winter?
+Sir Andrew Fountaine lies still extremely ill; it costs him ten guineas a
+day to doctors, surgeons, and apothecaries, and has done so these three
+weeks.  I dined to-day with Mr. Ford; he sometimes chooses to dine at
+home, and I am content to dine with him; and at night I called at the
+Coffee-house, where I had not been in a week, and talked coldly a while
+with Mr. Addison.  All our friendship and dearness are off: we are civil
+acquaintance, talk words of course, of when we shall meet, and that is
+all.  I have not been at any house with him these six weeks: t’other day
+we were to have dined together at the Comptroller’s; {126a} but I sent my
+excuses, being engaged to the Secretary of State.  Is not it odd?  But I
+think he has used me ill; and I have used him too well, at least his
+friend Steele.
+
+15.  It has cost me three guineas to-day for a periwig. {126b}  I am
+undone!  It was made by a Leicester lad, who married Mr. Worrall’s
+daughter, where my mother lodged; {127a} so I thought it would be cheap,
+and especially since he lives in the city.  Well, London lickpenny:
+{127b}  I find it true.  I have given Harrison hints for another _Tatler_
+to-morrow.  The jackanapes wants a right taste: I doubt he won’t do.  I
+dined with my friend Lewis of the Secretary’s office, and am got home
+early, because I have much business to do; but before I begin, I must
+needs say something to MD, faith—No, faith, I lie, it is but nineteen
+days to-day since my last from MD.  I have got Mr. Harley to promise that
+whatever changes are made in the Council, the Bishop of Clogher shall not
+be removed, and he has got a memorial accordingly.  I will let the Bishop
+know so much in a post or two.  This is a secret; but I know he has
+enemies, and they shall not be gratified, if they designed any such
+thing, which perhaps they might; for some changes there will be made.  So
+drink up your claret, and be quiet, and do not lose your money.
+
+16.  Morning.  Faith, I will send this letter to-day to shame you, if I
+han’t one from MD before night, that’s certain.  Won’t you grumble for
+want of the third side, pray now?  Yes, I warrant you; yes, yes, you
+shall have the third, you shall so, when you can catch it, some other
+time; when you be writing girls.—O, faith, I think I won’t stay till
+night, but seal up this just now, and carry it in my pocket, and whip it
+into the post-office as I come home at evening.  I am going out early
+this morning.—Patrick’s bills for coals and candles, etc., come sometimes
+to three shillings a week; I keep very good fires, though the weather be
+warm.  Ireland will never be happy till you get small coal {128a}
+likewise; nothing so easy, so convenient, so cheap, so pretty, for
+lighting a fire.  My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Walls; has she a boy or a
+girl?  A girl, hum; and died in a week, humm; and was poor Stella forced
+to stand for godmother?—Let me know how accompts stand, that you may have
+your money betimes.  There’s four months for my lodging, that must be
+thought on too: and so go dine with Manley, and lose your money, do,
+extravagant sluttikin, but don’t fret.—It will be just three weeks when I
+have the next letter, that’s to-morrow.  Farewell, dearest beloved MD;
+and love poor, poor Presto, who has not had one happy day since he left
+you, as hope saved.—It is the last sally I will ever make, but I hope it
+will turn to some account.  I have done more for these, {128b} and I
+think they are more honest than the last; however, I will not be
+disappointed.  I would make MD and me easy; and I never desired
+more.—Farewell, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XIV.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Jan._ 16, 1710–11.
+
+O FAITH, young women, I have sent my letter N. 13 without one crumb of an
+answer to any of MD’s, there’s for you now; and yet Presto ben’t angry,
+faith, not a bit, only he will begin to be in pain next Irish post,
+except he sees MD’s little handwriting in the glass-frame at the bar of
+St. James’s Coffee-house, where Presto would never go but for that
+purpose.  Presto is at home, God help him, every night from six till
+bed-time, and has as little enjoyment or pleasure in life at present as
+anybody in the world, although in full favour with all the Ministry.  As
+hope saved, nothing gives Presto any sort of dream of happiness but a
+letter now and then from his own dearest MD.  I love the expectation of
+it; and when it does not come, I comfort myself that I have it yet to be
+happy with.  Yes, faith, and when I write to MD, I am happy too; it is
+just as if methinks you were here, and I prating to you, and telling you
+where I have been: “Well,” says you, “Presto, come, where have you been
+to-day? come, let’s hear now.”  And so then I answer: “Ford and I were
+visiting Mr. Lewis and Mr. Prior; and Prior has given me a fine Plautus;
+and then Ford would have had me dine at his lodgings, and so I would not;
+and so I dined with him at an eating-house, which I have not done five
+times since I came here; and so I came home, after visiting Sir Andrew
+Fountaine’s mother and sister, and Sir Andrew Fountaine is mending,
+though slowly.”
+
+17.  I was making, this morning, some general visits, and at twelve I
+called at the Coffee-house for a letter from MD; so the man said he had
+given it to Patrick.  Then I went to the Court of Requests and Treasury,
+to find Mr. Harley, and, after some time spent in mutual reproaches, I
+promised to dine with him.  I stayed there till seven, then called at
+Sterne’s and Leigh’s to talk about your box, and to have it sent by
+Smyth.  Sterne says he has been making inquiries, and will set things
+right as soon as possible.  I suppose it lies at Chester, at least I hope
+so, and only wants a lift over to you.  Here has little Harrison been to
+complain that the printer I recommended to him for his _Tatler_ is a
+coxcomb; and yet to see how things will happen; for this very printer is
+my cousin, his name is Dryden Leach; {129a} did you never hear of Dryden
+Leach, he that prints the _Postman_?  He acted Oroonoko; {129b} he’s in
+love with Miss Cross. {129c}—Well, so I came home to read my letter from
+Stella, but the dog Patrick was abroad; at last he came, and I got my
+letter.  I found another hand had superscribed it; when I opened it, I
+found it written all in French, and subscribed Bernage: {130a} faith, I
+was ready to fling it at Patrick’s head.  Bernage tells me he had been to
+desire your recommendation to me, to make him a captain; and your
+cautious answer, that he had as much power with me as you, was a notable
+one; if you were here, I would present you to the Ministry as a person of
+ability.  Bernage should let me know where to write to him; this is the
+second letter I have had without any direction; however, I beg I may not
+have a third, but that you will ask him, and send me how I shall direct
+to him.  In the meantime, tell him that if regiments are to be raised
+here, as he says, I will speak to George Granville, {130b} Secretary at
+War, to make him a captain; and use what other interest I conveniently
+can.  I think that is enough, and so tell him, and do not trouble me with
+his letters, when I expect them from MD; do you hear, young women? write
+to Presto.
+
+18.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary St. John, and we were to dine
+at Mr. Harley’s alone, about some business of importance; but there were
+two or three gentlemen there.  Mr. Secretary and I went together from his
+office to Mr. Harley’s, and thought to have been very wise; but the deuce
+a bit, the company stayed, and more came, and Harley went away at seven,
+and the Secretary and I stayed with the rest of the company till eleven;
+I would then have had him come away; but he was in for’t; and though he
+swore he would come away at that flask, there I left him.  I wonder at
+the civility of these people; when he saw I would drink no more, he would
+always pass the bottle by me, and yet I could not keep the toad from
+drinking himself, nor he would not let me go neither, nor Masham, {131a}
+who was with us.  When I got home, I found a parcel directed to me; and
+opening it, I found a pamphlet written entirely against myself, not by
+name, but against something I writ: {131b} it is pretty civil, and
+affects to be so, and I think I will take no notice of it; ’tis against
+something written very lately; and indeed I know not what to say, nor do
+I care.  And so you are a saucy rogue for losing your money to-day at
+Stoyte’s; to let that bungler beat you, fie, Stella, an’t you ashamed?
+Well, I forgive you this once, never do so again; no, noooo.  Kiss and be
+friends, sirrah.—Come, let me go sleep, I go earlier to bed than
+formerly; and have not been out so late these two months; but the
+Secretary was in a drinking humour.  So good-night,
+myownlittledearsaucyinsolentrogues.
+
+19.  Then you read that long word in the last line; no, {131c} faith,
+han’t you.  Well, when will this letter come from our MD? to-morrow or
+next day without fail; yes, faith, and so it is coming.  This was an
+insipid snowy day, no walking day, and I dined gravely with Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh, and came home, and am now got to bed a little after ten; I
+remember old Culpepper’s maxim:
+
+    “Would you have a settled head,
+    You must early go to bed:
+    I tell you, and I tell’t again,
+    You must be in bed at ten.”
+
+20.  And so I went to-day with my new wig, o hoao, to visit Lady Worsley,
+{132} whom I had not seen before, although she was near a month in town.
+Then I walked in the Park to find Mr. Ford, whom I had promised to meet;
+and coming down the Mall, who should come towards me but Patrick, and
+gives me five letters out of his pocket.  I read the superscription of
+the first, “Pshoh,” said I; of the second, “Pshoh” again; of the third,
+“Pshah, pshah, pshah”; of the fourth, “A gad, a gad, a gad, I’m in a
+rage”; of the fifth and last, “O hoooa; ay marry this is something, this
+is our MD”; so truly we opened it, I think immediately, and it began the
+most impudently in the world, thus: “Dear Presto, We are even thus far.”
+“Now we are even,” quoth Stephen, when he gave his wife six blows for
+one.  I received your ninth four days after I had sent my thirteenth.
+But I’ll reckon with you anon about that, young women.  Why did not you
+recant at the end of your letter, when you got my eleventh, tell me that,
+huzzies base? were we even then, were we, sirrah?  But I won’t answer
+your letter now, I’ll keep it for another time.  We had a great deal of
+snow to-day, and ’tis terrible cold.  I dined with Ford, because it was
+his Opera-day and snowed, so I did not care to stir farther.  I will send
+to-morrow to Smyth.
+
+21.  Morning.  It has snowed terribly all night, and is vengeance cold.
+I am not yet up, but cannot write long; my hands will freeze.  “Is there
+a good fire, Patrick?”  “Yes, sir.”  “Then I will rise; come, take away
+the candle.”  You must know I write on the dark side of my bed-chamber,
+and am forced to have a candle till I rise, for the bed stands between me
+and the window, and I keep the curtains shut this cold weather.  So pray
+let me rise; and Patrick, here, take away the candle.—At night.  We are
+now here in high frost and snow, the largest fire can hardly keep us
+warm.  It is very ugly walking; a baker’s boy broke his thigh yesterday.
+I walk slow, make short steps, and never tread on my heel.  ’Tis a good
+proverb the Devonshire people have:
+
+          “Walk fast in snow,
+          In frost walk slow;
+          And still as you go,
+          Tread on your toe.
+    When frost and snow are both together,
+    Sit by the fire, and spare shoe-leather.”
+
+I dined to-day with Dr. Cockburn, {133a} but will not do so again in
+haste, he has generally such a parcel of Scots with him.
+
+22.  Morning.  Starving, starving, uth, uth, uth, uth, uth.—Don’t you
+remember I used to come into your chamber, and turn Stella out of her
+chair, and rake up the fire in a cold morning, and cry Uth, uth, uth?
+etc.  O, faith, I must rise, my hand is so cold I can write no more.  So
+good-morrow, sirrahs.—At night.  I went this morning to Lady Giffard’s
+house, and saw your mother, and made her give me a pint bottle of
+palsy-water, {133b} which I brought home in my pocket; and sealed and
+tied up in a paper, and sent it to Mr. Smyth, who goes to-morrow for
+Ireland, and sent a letter to him to desire his care of it, and that he
+would inquire at Chester about the box.  He was not within: so the bottle
+and letter were left for him at his lodgings, with strict orders to give
+them to him; and I will send Patrick in a day or two, to know whether it
+was given, etc.  Dr. Stratford {133c} and I dined to-day with Mr.
+Stratford {133d} in the City, by appointment; but I chose to walk there,
+for exercise in the frost.  But the weather had given a little, as you
+women call it, so it was something slobbery.  I did not get home till
+nine.
+
+   And now I’m in bed,
+   To break your head.
+
+23.  Morning.  They tell me it freezes again, but it is not so cold as
+yesterday: so now I will answer a bit of your letter.—At night.  O,
+faith, I was just going to answer some of our MD’s letter this morning,
+when a printer came in about some business, and stayed an hour; so I
+rose, and then came in Ben Tooke, and then I shaved and scribbled; and it
+was such a terrible day, I could not stir out till one, and then I called
+at Mrs. Barton’s, and we went to Lady Worsley’s, where we were to dine by
+appointment.  The Earl of Berkeley {134a} is going to be married to Lady
+Louisa Lennox, the Duke of Richmond’s daughter.  I writ this night to
+Dean Sterne, and bid him tell you all about the bottle of palsy-water by
+Smyth; and to-morrow morning I will say something to your letter.
+
+24.  Morning.  Come now to your letter.  As for your being even with me,
+I have spoken to that already.  So now, my dearly beloved, let us proceed
+to the next.  You are always grumbling that you han’t letters fast
+enough; “surely we shall have your tenth;” and yet, before you end your
+letter, you own you have my eleventh.—And why did not MD go into the
+country with the Bishop of Clogher? faith, such a journey would have done
+you good; Stella should have rode, and Dingley gone in the coach.  The
+Bishop of Kilmore {134b} I know nothing of; he is old, and may die; he
+lives in some obscure corner, for I never heard of him.  As for my old
+friends, if you mean the Whigs, I never see them, as you may find by my
+journals, except Lord Halifax, and him very seldom; Lord Somers never
+since the first visit, for he has been a false, deceitful rascal. {134c}
+My new friends are very kind, and I have promises enough, but I do not
+count upon them, and besides my pretences are very young to them.
+However, we will see what may be done; and if nothing at all, I shall not
+be disappointed; although perhaps poor MD may, and then I shall be
+sorrier for their sakes than my own.—Talk of a merry Christmas (why do
+you write it so then, young women? sauce for the goose is sauce for the
+gander), I have wished you all that two or three letters ago.  Good lack;
+and your news, that Mr. St. John is going to Holland; he has no such
+thoughts, to quit the great station he is in; nor, if he had, could I be
+spared to go with him.  So, faith, politic Madam Stella, you come with
+your two eggs a penny, etc.  Well, Madam Dingley, and so Mrs. Stoyte
+invites you, and so you stay at Donnybrook, and so you could not write.
+You are plaguy exact in your journals, from Dec. 25 to Jan. 4.  Well,
+Smyth and the palsy-water I have handled already, and he does not lodge
+(or rather did not, for, poor man, now he is gone) at Mr. Jesse’s, and
+all that stuff; but we found his lodging, and I went to Stella’s mother
+on my own head, for I never remembered it was in the letter to desire
+another bottle; but I was so fretted, so tosticated, and so impatient
+that Stella should have her water (I mean decently, do not be rogues),
+and so vexed with Sterne’s carelessness.—Pray God, Stella’s illness may
+not return!  If they come seldom, they begin to be weary; I judge by
+myself; for when I seldom visit, I grow weary of my acquaintance.—Leave a
+good deal of my tenth unanswered!  Impudent slut, when did you ever
+answer my tenth, or ninth, or any other number? or who desires you to
+answer, provided you write?  I defy the D— to answer my letters:
+sometimes there may be one or two things I should be glad you would
+answer; but I forget them, and you never think of them.  I shall never
+love answering letters again, if you talk of answering.  Answering,
+quotha! pretty answerers truly.—As for the pamphlet you speak of, and
+call it scandalous, and that one Mr. Presto is said to write it, hear my
+answer.  Fie, child, you must not mind what every idle body tells you—I
+believe you lie, and that the dogs were not crying it when you said so;
+come, tell truth.  I am sorry you go to St. Mary’s {136} so soon, you
+will be as poor as rats; that place will drain you with a vengeance:
+besides, I would have you think of being in the country in summer.
+Indeed, Stella, pippins produced plentifully; Parvisol could not send
+from Laracor: there were about half a score, I would be glad to know
+whether they were good for anything.—Mrs. Walls at Donnybrook with you;
+why is not she brought to bed?  Well, well, well, Dingley, pray be
+satisfied; you talk as if you were angry about the Bishop’s not offering
+you conveniences for the journey; and so he should.—What sort of
+Christmas?  Why, I have had no Christmas at all; and has it really been
+Christmas of late?  I never once thought of it.  My service to Mrs.
+Stoyte, and Catherine; and let Catherine get the coffee ready against I
+come, and not have so much care on her countenance; for all will go
+well.—Mr. Bernage, Mr. Bernage, Mr. Fiddlenage, I have had three letters
+from him now successively; he sends no directions, and how the D— shall I
+write to him?  I would have burnt his last, if I had not seen Stella’s
+hand at the bottom: his request is all nonsense.  How can I assist him in
+buying? and if he be ordered to go to Spain, go he must, or else sell,
+and I believe one can hardly sell in such a juncture.  If he had stayed,
+and new regiments raised, I would have used my endeavour to have had him
+removed; although I have no credit that way, or very little: but, if the
+regiment goes, he ought to go too; he has had great indulgence, and
+opportunities of saving; and I have urged him to it a hundred times.
+What can I do? whenever it lies in my power to do him a good office, I
+will do it.  Pray draw up this into a handsome speech, and represent it
+to him from me, and that I would write, if I knew where to direct to him;
+and so I have told you, and desired you would tell him, fifty times.
+Yes, Madam Stella, I think I can read your long concluding word, but you
+can’t read mine after bidding you good-night.  And yet methinks, I mend
+extremely in my writing; but when Stella’s eyes are well, I hope to write
+as bad as ever.—So now I have answered your letter, and mine is an
+answer; for I lay yours before me, and I look and write, and write and
+look, and look and write again.—So good-morrow, madams both, and I will
+go rise, for I must rise; for I take pills at night, and so I must rise
+early, I don’t know why.
+
+25.  Morning.  I did not tell you how I passed my time yesterday, nor bid
+you good-night, and there was good reason.  I went in the morning to
+Secretary St. John about some business; he had got a great Whig with him;
+a creature of the Duke of Marlborough, who is a go-between to make peace
+between the Duke and the Ministry: so he came out of his closet, and,
+after a few words, desired I would dine with him at three; but Mr. Lewis
+stayed till six before he came; and there we sat talking, and the time
+slipped so, that at last, when I was positive to go, it was past two
+o’clock; so I came home, and went straight to bed.  He would never let me
+look at his watch, and I could not imagine it above twelve when we went
+away.  So I bid you good-night for last night, and now I bid you
+good-morrow, and I am still in bed, though it be near ten, but I must
+rise.
+
+26, 27, 28, 29, 30.  I have been so lazy and negligent these last four
+days that I could not write to MD.  My head is not in order, and yet is
+not absolutely ill, but giddyish, and makes me listless; I walk every
+day, and take drops of Dr. Cockburn, and I have just done a box of pills;
+and to-day Lady Kerry sent me some of her bitter drink, which I design to
+take twice a day, and hope I shall grow better.  I wish I were with MD; I
+long for spring and good weather, and then I will come over.  My riding
+in Ireland keeps me well.  I am very temperate, and eat of the easiest
+meats as I am directed, and hope the malignity will go off; but one fit
+shakes me a long time.  I dined to-day with Lord Mountjoy, yesterday at
+Mr. Stone’s, in the City, on Sunday at Vanhomrigh’s, Saturday with Ford,
+and Friday I think at Vanhomrigh’s; and that is all the journal I can
+send MD, for I was so lazy while I was well, that I could not write.  I
+thought to have sent this to-night, but ’tis ten, and I’ll go to bed, and
+write on t’other side to Parvisol to-morrow, and send it on Thursday; and
+so good-night, my dears; and love Presto, and be healthy, and Presto will
+be so too, etc.
+
+Cut off these notes handsomely, d’ye hear, sirrahs, and give Mrs. Brent
+hers, and keep yours till you see Parvisol, and then make up the letter
+to him, and send it him by the first opportunity; and so God Almighty
+bless you both, here and ever, and poor Presto.
+
+What, I warrant you thought at first that these last lines were another
+letter.
+
+Dingley, Pray pay Stella six fishes, and place them to the account of
+your humble servant, Presto.
+
+Stella, Pray pay Dingley six fishes, and place them to the account of
+your humble servant, Presto.
+
+There are bills of exchange for you.
+
+
+
+LETTER XV.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Jan._ 31, 1710–11.
+
+I AM to send you my fourteenth to-morrow; but my head, having some little
+disorders, confounds all my journals.  I was early this morning with Mr.
+Secretary St. John about some business, so I could not scribble my
+morning lines to MD.  They are here intending to tax all little printed
+penny papers a halfpenny every half-sheet, which will utterly ruin Grub
+Street, and I am endeavouring to prevent it. {138a}  Besides, I was
+forwarding an impeachment against a certain great person; that was two of
+my businesses with the Secretary, were they not worthy ones?  It was
+Ford’s birthday, and I refused the Secretary, and dined with Ford.  We
+are here in as smart a frost for the time as I have seen; delicate
+walking weather, and the Canal and Rosamond’s Pond {138b} full of the
+rabble sliding and with skates, if you know what those are.  Patrick’s
+bird’s water freezes in the gallipot, and my hands in bed.
+
+Feb. 1.  I was this morning with poor Lady Kerry, who is much worse in
+her head than I.  She sends me bottles of her bitter; and we are so fond
+of one another, because our ailments are the same; don’t you know that,
+Madam Stella?  Han’t I seen you conning ailments with Joe’s wife, {139a}
+and some others, sirrah?  I walked into the City to dine, because of the
+walk, for we must take care of Presto’s health, you know, because of poor
+little MD.  But I walked plaguy carefully, for fear of sliding against my
+will; but I am very busy.
+
+2.  This morning Mr. Ford came to me to walk into the City, where he had
+business, and then to buy books at Bateman’s; and I laid out one pound
+five shillings for a Strabo and Aristophanes, and I have now got books
+enough to make me another shelf, and I will have more, or it shall cost
+me a fall; and so as we came back, we drank a flask of right French wine
+at Ben Tooke’s chamber; and when I got home, Mrs. Vanhomrigh sent me word
+her eldest daughter {139b} was taken suddenly very ill, and desired I
+would come and see her.  I went, and found it was a silly trick of Mrs.
+Armstrong, {139c} Lady Lucy’s sister, who, with Moll Stanhope, was
+visiting there: however, I rattled off the daughter.
+
+3.  To-day I went and dined at Lady Lucy’s, where you know I have not
+been this long time.  They are plaguy Whigs, especially the sister
+Armstrong, the most insupportable of all women, pretending to wit,
+without any taste.  She was running down the last _Examiner_, {139d} the
+prettiest I had read, with a character of the present Ministry.—I left
+them at five, and came home.  But I forgot to tell you, that this morning
+my cousin Dryden Leach, the printer, came to me with a heavy complaint,
+that Harrison the new Tatler had turned him off, and taken the last
+Tatler’s printers again.  He vowed revenge; I answered gravely, and so he
+left me, and I have ordered Patrick to deny me to him from henceforth:
+and at night comes a letter from Harrison, telling me the same thing, and
+excused his doing it without my notice, because he would bear all the
+blame; and in his _Tatler_ of this day {140a} he tells you the story, how
+he has taken his old officers, and there is a most humble letter from
+Morphew and Lillie to beg his pardon, etc. {140b}  And lastly, this
+morning Ford sent me two letters from the Coffee-house (where I hardly
+ever go), one from the Archbishop of Dublin, and t’other from—Who do you
+think t’other was from?—I’ll tell you, because you are friends; why, then
+it was, faith, it was from my own dear little MD, N. 10.  Oh, but will
+not answer it now, no, noooooh, I’ll keep it between the two sheets; here
+it is, just under; oh, I lifted up the sheet and saw it there: lie still,
+you shan’t be answered yet, little letter; for I must go to bed, and take
+care of my head.
+
+4.  I avoid going to church yet, for fear of my head, though it has been
+much better these last five or six days, since I have taken Lady Kerry’s
+bitter.  Our frost holds like a dragon.  I went to Mr. Addison’s, and
+dined with him at his lodgings; I had not seen him these three weeks, we
+are grown common acquaintance; yet what have not I done for his friend
+Steele?  Mr. Harley reproached me the last time I saw him, that to please
+me he would be reconciled to Steele, and had promised and appointed to
+see him, and that Steele never came.  Harrison, whom Mr. Addison
+recommended to me, I have introduced to the Secretary of State, who has
+promised me to take care of him; and I have represented Addison himself
+so to the Ministry, that they think and talk in his favour, though they
+hated him before.—Well, he is now in my debt, and there’s an end; and I
+never had the least obligation to him, and there’s another end.  This
+evening I had a message from Mr. Harley, desiring to know whether I was
+alive, and that I would dine with him to-morrow.  They dine so late, that
+since my head has been wrong I have avoided being with them.—Patrick has
+been out of favour these ten days; I talk dry and cross to him, and have
+called him “friend” three or four times.  But, sirrahs, get you gone.
+
+5.  Morning.  I am going this morning to see Prior, who dines with me at
+Mr. Harley’s; so I can’t stay fiddling and talking with dear little brats
+in a morning, and ’tis still terribly cold.—I wish my cold hand was in
+the warmest place about you, young women, I’d give ten guineas upon that
+account with all my heart, faith; oh, it starves my thigh; so I’ll rise
+and bid you good-morrow, my ladies both, good-morrow.  Come, stand away,
+let me rise: Patrick, take away the candle.  Is there a good
+fire?—So—up-a-dazy.—At night.  Mr. Harley did not sit down till six, and
+I stayed till eleven; henceforth I will choose to visit him in the
+evenings, and dine with him no more if I can help it.  It breaks all my
+measures, and hurts my health; my head is disorderly, but not ill, and I
+hope it will mend.
+
+6.  Here has been such a hurry with the Queen’s Birthday, so much fine
+clothes, and the Court so crowded that I did not go there.  All the frost
+is gone.  It thawed on Sunday, and so continues, yet ice is still on the
+Canal (I did not mean that of Laracor, but St. James’s Park) and boys
+sliding on it.  Mr. Ford pressed me to dine with him in his chamber.—Did
+not I tell you Patrick has got a bird, a linnet, to carry over to
+Dingley?  It was very tame at first, and ’tis now the wildest I ever saw.
+He keeps it in a closet, where it makes a terrible litter; but I say
+nothing: I am as tame as a clout.  When must we answer our MD’s letter?
+One of these odd-come-shortlies.  This is a week old, you see, and no
+farther yet.  Mr. Harley desired I would dine with him again to-day; but
+I refused him, for I fell out with him yesterday, {141} and will not see
+him again till he makes me amends: and so I go to bed.
+
+7.  I was this morning early with Mr. Lewis of the Secretary’s office,
+and saw a letter Mr. Harley had sent to him, desiring to be reconciled;
+but I was deaf to all entreaties, and have desired Lewis to go to him,
+and let him know I expect further satisfaction.  If we let these great
+Ministers pretend too much, there will be no governing them.  He promises
+to make me easy, if I will but come and see him; but I won’t, and he
+shall do it by message, or I will cast him off.  I’ll tell you the cause
+of our quarrel when I see you, and refer it to yourselves.  In that he
+did something, which he intended for a favour; and I have taken it quite
+otherwise, disliking both the thing and the manner, and it has heartily
+vexed me, and all I have said is truth, though it looks like jest; and I
+absolutely refused to submit to his intended favour, and expect further
+satisfaction.  Mr. Ford and I dined with Mr. Lewis.  We have a monstrous
+deal of snow, and it has cost me two shillings to-day in chair and coach,
+and walked till I was dirty besides.  I know not what it is now to read
+or write after I am in bed.  The last thing I do up is to write something
+to our MD, and then get into bed, and put out my candle, and so go sleep
+as fast as ever I can.  But in the mornings I do write sometimes in bed,
+as you know.
+
+8.  Morning.  _I have desired Apronia to be always careful_, _especially
+about the legs_.  Pray, do you see any such great wit in that sentence?
+I must freely own that I do not.  But party carries everything nowadays,
+and what a splutter have I heard about the wit of that saying, repeated
+with admiration above a hundred times in half an hour!  Pray read it over
+again this moment, and consider it.  I think the word is _advised_, and
+not _desired_.  I should not have remembered it if I had not heard it so
+often.  Why—ay—You must know I dreamed it just now, and waked with it in
+my mouth.  Are you bit, or are you not, sirrahs?  I met Mr. Harley in the
+Court of Requests, and he asked me how long I had learnt the trick of
+writing to myself?  He had seen your letter through the glass case at the
+Coffee-house, and would swear it was my hand; and Mr. Ford, who took and
+sent it me, was of the same mind.  I remember others have formerly said
+so too.  I think I was little MD’s writing-master. {143}—But come, what
+is here to do, writing to young women in a morning?  I have other fish to
+fry; so good-morrow, my ladies all, good-morrow.  Perhaps I’ll answer
+your letter to-night, perhaps I won’t; that’s as saucy little Presto
+takes the humour.—At night.  I walked in the Park to-day in spite of the
+weather, as I do always when it does not actually rain.  Do you know what
+it has gone and done?  We had a thaw for three days, then a monstrous
+dirt and snow, and now it freezes, like a pot-lid, upon our snow.  I
+dined with Lady Betty Germaine, the first time since I came for England;
+and there did I sit, like a booby, till eight, looking over her and
+another lady at piquet, when I had other business enough to do.  It was
+the coldest day I felt this year.
+
+9.  Morning.  After I had been abed an hour last night, I was forced to
+rise and call to the landlady and maid to have the fire removed in a
+chimney below stairs, which made my bed-chamber smoke, though I had no
+fire in it.  I have been twice served so.  I never lay so miserable an
+hour in my life.  Is it not plaguy vexatious?—It has snowed all night,
+and rains this morning.—Come, where’s MD’s letter?  Come, Mrs. Letter,
+make your appearance.  Here am I, says she, answer me to my face.—O,
+faith, I am sorry you had my twelfth so soon; I doubt you will stay
+longer for the rest.  I’m so ’fraid you have got my fourteenth while I am
+writing this; and I would always have one letter from Presto reading, one
+travelling, and one writing.  As for the box, I now believe it lost.  It
+is directed for Mr. Curry, at his house in Capel Street, etc.  I had a
+letter yesterday from Dr. Raymond in Chester, who says he sent his man
+everywhere, and cannot find it; and God knows whether Mr. Smyth will have
+better success.  Sterne spoke to him, and I writ to him with the bottle
+of palsy-water; that bottle, I hope, will not miscarry: I long to hear
+you have it.  O, faith, you have too good an opinion of Presto’s care.  I
+am negligent enough of everything but MD, and I should not have trusted
+Sterne.—But it shall not go so: I will have one more tug for it.—As to
+what you say of Goodman Peasly and Isaac, {144a} I answer as I did
+before.  Fie, child, you must not give yourself the way to believe any
+such thing: and afterwards, only for curiosity, you may tell me how these
+things are approved, and how you like them; and whether they instruct you
+in the present course of affairs, and whether they are printed in your
+town, or only sent from hence.—Sir Andrew Fountaine is recovered; so take
+your sorrow again, but don’t keep it, fling it to the dogs.  And does
+little MD walk indeed?—I’m glad of it at heart.—Yes, we have done with
+the plague here: it was very saucy in you to pretend to have it before
+your betters.  Your intelligence that the story is false about the
+officers forced to sell, {144b} is admirable.  You may see them all three
+here every day, no more in the army than you.  Twelve shillings for
+mending the strong box; that is, for putting a farthing’s worth of iron
+on a hinge, and gilding it; give him six shillings, and I’ll pay it, and
+never employ him or his again.—No indeed, I put off preaching as much as
+I can.  I am upon another foot: nobody doubts here whether I can preach,
+and you are fools.—The account you give of that weekly paper {144c}
+agrees with us here.  Mr. Prior was like to be insulted in the street for
+being supposed the author of it; but one of the last papers cleared him.
+Nobody knows who it is, but those few in the secret, I suppose the
+Ministry and the printer.—Poor Stella’s eyes!  God bless them, and send
+them better.  Pray spare them, and write not above two lines a day in
+broad daylight.  How does Stella look, Madam Dingley?  Pretty well, a
+handsome young woman still.  Will she pass in a crowd?  Will she make a
+figure in a country church?—Stay a little, fair ladies.  I this minute
+sent Patrick to Sterne: he brings back word that your box is very safe
+with one Mr. Earl’s sister in Chester, and that Colonel Edgworth’s widow
+{145a} goes for Ireland on Monday next, and will receive the box at
+Chester, and deliver it you safe: so there are some hopes now.—Well, let
+us go on to your letter.—The warrant is passed for the First-Fruits.  The
+Queen does not send a letter; but a patent will be drawn here, and that
+will take up time.  Mr. Harley of late has said nothing of presenting me
+to the Queen: I was overseen {145b} when I mentioned it to you.  He has
+such a weight of affairs on him, that he cannot mind all; but he talked
+of it three or four times to me, long before I dropped it to you.  What,
+is not Mrs. Walls’ business over yet?  I had hopes she was up and well,
+and the child dead before this time.—You did right, at last, to send me
+your accompts; but I did not stay for them, I thank you.  I hope you have
+your bill sent in my last, and there will be eight pounds’ interest soon
+due from Hawkshaw: pray look at his bond.  I hope you are good managers;
+and that, when I say so, Stella won’t think I intend she should grudge
+herself wine.  But going to those expensive lodgings requires some fund.
+I wish you had stayed till I came over, for some reasons.  That
+Frenchwoman {145c} will be grumbling again in a little time: and if you
+are invited anywhere to the country, it will vex you to pay in absence;
+and the country may be necessary for poor Stella’s health: but do as you
+like, and do not blame Presto.—Oh, but you are telling your
+reasons.—Well, I have read them; do as you please.—Yes, Raymond says he
+must stay longer than he thought, because he cannot settle his affairs.
+M— is in the country at some friend’s, comes to town in spring, and then
+goes to settle in Herefordshire.  Her husband is a surly, ill-natured
+brute, and cares not she should see anybody.  O Lord, see how I
+blundered, and left two lines short; it was that ugly score in the paper
+{146a} that made me mistake.—I believe you lie about the story of the
+fire, only to make it more odd.  Bernage must go to Spain; and I will see
+to recommend him to the Duke of Argyle, his General, when I see the Duke
+next: but the officers tell me it would be dishonourable in the last
+degree for him to sell now, and he would never be preferred in the army;
+so that, unless he designs to leave it for good and all, he must go.
+Tell him so, and that I would write if I knew where to direct to him;
+which I have said fourscore times already.  I had rather anything almost
+than that you should strain yourselves to send a letter when it is
+inconvenient; we have settled that matter already.  I’ll write when I
+can, and so shall MD; and upon occasions extraordinary I will write,
+though it be a line; and when we have not letters soon, we agree that all
+things are well; and so that’s settled for ever, and so hold your
+tongue.—Well, you shall have your pins; but for candles’ ends, I cannot
+promise, because I burn them to the stumps; besides, I remember what
+Stella told Dingley about them many years ago, and she may think the same
+thing of me.—And Dingley shall have her hinged spectacles.—Poor dear
+Stella, how durst you write those two lines by candlelight? bang your
+bones!  Faith, this letter shall go to-morrow, I think, and that will be
+in ten days from the last, young women; that’s too soon of all
+conscience: but answering yours has filled it up so quick, and I do not
+design to use you to three pages in folio, no, nooooh.  All this is one
+morning’s work in bed;—and so good-morrow, little sirrahs; that’s for the
+rhyme. {146b}  You want politics: faith, I can’t think of any; but may be
+at night I may tell you a passage.  Come, sit off the bed, and let me
+rise, will you?—At night.  I dined to-day with my neighbour Vanhomrigh;
+it was such dismal weather I could not stir further.  I have had some
+threatenings with my head, but no fits.  I still drink Dr. Radcliffe’s
+{147a} bitter, and will continue it.
+
+10.  I was this morning to see the Secretary of State, and have engaged
+him to give a memorial from me to the Duke of Argyle in behalf of
+Bernage.  The Duke is a man that distinguishes people of merit, and I
+will speak to him myself; but the Secretary backing it will be very
+effectual, and I will take care to have it done to purpose.  Pray tell
+Bernage so, and that I think nothing can be luckier for him, and that I
+would have him go by all means.  I will order it that the Duke shall send
+for him when they are in Spain; or, if he fails, that he shall receive
+him kindly when he goes to wait on him.  Can I do more?  Is not this a
+great deal?—I now send away this letter, that you may not stay.—I dined
+with Ford upon his Opera-day, and am now come home, and am going to
+study; do not you presume to guess, sirrahs, impudent saucy dear boxes.
+Towards the end of a letter I could not say saucy boxes without putting
+dear between.  An’t that right now?  Farewell.  _This_ should _be_
+longer, _but_ that _I_ send _it_ to-_night_. {147b}
+
+O silly, silly loggerhead!
+
+I send a letter this post to one Mr. Staunton, and I direct it to Mr.
+Acton’s in St. Michael’s Lane.  He formerly lodged there, but he has not
+told me where to direct.  Pray send to that Acton, whether {147c} the
+letter is come there, and whether he has sent it to Staunton.
+
+If Bernage designs to sell his commission and stay at home, pray let him
+tell me so, that my recommendation to the Duke of Argyle may not be in
+vain.
+
+
+
+LETTER XVI.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Feb._ 10, 1710–11.
+
+I HAVE just despatched my fifteenth to the post; I tell you how things
+will be, after I have got a letter from MD.  I am in furious haste to
+finish mine, for fear of having two of MD’s to answer in one of Presto’s,
+which would be such a disgrace, never saw the like; but, before you write
+to me, I write at my leisure, like a gentleman, a little every day, just
+to let you know how matters go, and so and so; and I hope before this
+comes to you, you’ll have got your box and chocolate, and Presto will
+take more care another time.
+
+11.  Morning.  I must rise and go see my Lord Keeper, {148a} which will
+cost me two shillings in coach-hire.  Don’t you call them two thirteens?
+{148b}—At night.  It has rained all day, and there was no walking.  I
+read prayers to Sir Andrew Fountaine in the forenoon, and I dined with
+three Irishmen, at one Mr. Cope’s {148c} lodgings; the other two were one
+Morris an archdeacon, {148d} and Mr. Ford.  When I came home this
+evening, I expected that little jackanapes Harrison would have come to
+get help about his _Tatler_ for Tuesday: I have fixed two evenings in the
+week which I allow him to come.  The toad never came, and I expecting him
+fell a reading, and left off other business.—Come, what are you doing?
+How do you pass your time this ugly weather?  Gaming and drinking, I
+suppose: fine diversions for young ladies, truly!  I wish you had some of
+our Seville oranges, and we some of your wine.  We have the finest
+oranges for twopence apiece, and the basest wine for six shillings a
+bottle.  They tell me wine grows cheap with you.  I am resolved to have
+half a hogshead when I get to Ireland, if it be good and cheap, as it
+used to be; and I will treat MD at my table in an evening, oh hoa, and
+laugh at great Ministers of State.
+
+12.  The days are grown fine and long, — be thanked.  O, faith, you
+forget all our little sayings, and I am angry.  I dined to-day with Mr.
+Secretary St. John: I went to the Court of Requests at noon, and sent Mr.
+Harley into the House to call the Secretary, to let him know I would not
+dine with him if he dined late.  By good luck the Duke of Argyle was at
+the lobby of the House too, and I kept him in talk till the Secretary
+came out; then told them I was glad to meet them together, and that I had
+a request to the Duke, which the Secretary must second, and his Grace
+must grant.  The Duke said he was sure it was something insignificant,
+and wished it was ten times greater.  At the Secretary’s house I writ a
+memorial, and gave it to the Secretary to give the Duke, and shall see
+that he does it.  It is, that his Grace will please to take Mr. Bernage
+into his protection; and if he finds Bernage answers my character, to
+give him all encouragement.  Colonel Masham {149a} and Colonel Hill
+{149b} (Mrs. Masham’s {149c}) brother tell me my request is reasonable,
+and they will second it heartily to the Duke too: so I reckon Bernage is
+on a very good foot when he goes to Spain.  Pray tell him this, though
+perhaps I will write to him before he goes; yet where shall I direct? for
+I suppose he has left Connolly’s. {149d}
+
+13.  I have left off Lady Kerry’s bitter, and got another box of pills.
+I have no fits of giddiness, but only some little disorders towards it;
+and I walk as much as I can.  Lady Kerry is just as I am, only a great
+deal worse: I dined to-day at Lord Shelburne’s, where she is, and we con
+ailments, which makes us very fond of each other.  I have taken Mr.
+Harley into favour again, and called to see him, but he was not within; I
+will use to visit him after dinner, for he dines too late for my head:
+then I went to visit poor Congreve, who is just getting out of a severe
+fit of the gout; and I sat with him till near nine o’clock.  He gave me a
+_Tatler_ {150a} he had written out, as blind as he is, for little
+Harrison.  It is about a scoundrel that was grown rich, and went and
+bought a coat of arms at the Herald’s, and a set of ancestors at Fleet
+Ditch; ’tis well enough, and shall be printed in two or three days, and
+if you read those kind of things, this will divert you.  It is now
+between ten and eleven, and I am going to bed.
+
+14.  This was Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s daughter’s {150b} birthday, and Mr. Ford
+and I were invited to dinner to keep it, and we spent the evening there,
+drinking punch.  That was our way of beginning Lent; and in the morning
+Lord Shelburne, Lady Kerry, Mrs. Pratt, and I, went to Hyde Park, instead
+of going to church; for, till my head is a little settled, I think it
+better not to go; it would be so silly and troublesome to go out sick.
+Dr. Duke {150c} died suddenly two or three nights ago; he was one of the
+wits when we were children, but turned parson, and left it, and never
+writ farther than a prologue or recommendatory copy of verses.  He had a
+fine living given him by the Bishop of Winchester {150d} about three
+months ago; he got his living suddenly, and he got his dying so too.
+
+15.  I walked purely to-day about the Park, the rain being just over, of
+which we have had a great deal, mixed with little short frosts.  I went
+to the Court of Requests, thinking, if Mr. Harley dined early, to go with
+him.  But meeting Leigh and Sterne, they invited me to dine with them,
+and away we went.  When we got into his room, one H—, a worthless Irish
+fellow, was there, ready to dine with us; so I stepped out, and whispered
+them, that I would not dine with that fellow: they made excuses, and
+begged me to stay; but away I went to Mr. Harley’s, and he did not dine
+at home; and at last I dined at Sir John Germaine’s, {151a} and found
+Lady Betty but just recovered of a miscarriage.  I am writing an
+inscription for Lord Berkeley’s {151b} tomb; you know the young rake his
+son, the new Earl, is married to the Duke of Richmond’s daughter, {151c}
+at the Duke’s country house, and are now coming to town.  She will be
+fluxed in two months, and they’ll be parted in a year.  You ladies are
+brave, bold, venturesome folks; and the chit is but seventeen, and is
+ill-natured, covetous, vicious, and proud in extremes.  And so get you
+gone to Stoyte to-morrow.
+
+16.  Faith, this letter goes on but slow; ’tis a week old, and the first
+side not written.  I went to-day into the City for a walk, but the person
+I designed to dine with was not at home; so I came back, and called at
+Congreve’s, and dined with him and Estcourt, {151d} and laughed till six;
+then went to Mr. Harley’s, who was not gone to dinner; there I stayed
+till nine, and we made up our quarrel, and he has invited me to dinner
+to-morrow, which is the day of the week (Saturday) that Lord Keeper and
+Secretary St. John dine with him privately, and at last they have
+consented to let me among them on that day.  Atterbury and Prior went to
+bury poor Dr. Duke.  Congreve’s nasty white wine has given me the
+heart-burn.
+
+17.  I took some good walks in the Park to-day, and then went to Mr.
+Harley.  Lord Rivers was got there before me, and I chid him for
+presuming to come on a day when only Lord Keeper and the Secretary and I
+were to be there; but he regarded me not; so we all dined together, and
+sat down at four; and the Secretary has invited me to dine with him
+to-morrow.  I told them I had no hopes they could ever keep in, but that
+I saw they loved one another so well, as indeed they seem to do.  They
+call me nothing but Jonathan; and I said I believed they would leave me
+Jonathan as they found me; and that I never knew a Ministry do anything
+for those whom they make companions of their pleasures; and I believe you
+will find it so; but I care not.  I am upon a project of getting five
+hundred pounds, {152a} without being obliged to anybody; but that is a
+secret, till I see my dearest MD; and so hold your tongue, and do not
+talk, sirrahs, for I am now about it.
+
+18.  My head has no fits, but a little disordered before dinner; yet I
+walk stoutly, and take pills, and hope to mend.  Secretary St. John would
+needs have me dine with him to-day; and there I found three persons I
+never saw, two I had no acquaintance with, and one I did not care for: so
+I left them early and came home, it being no day to walk, but scurvy rain
+and wind.  The Secretary tells me he has put a cheat on me; for Lord
+Peterborow sent him twelve dozen flasks of burgundy, on condition that I
+should have my share; but he never was quiet till they were all gone, so
+I reckon he owes me thirty-six pounds.  Lord Peterborow is now got to
+Vienna, and I must write to him to-morrow.  I begin now to be towards
+looking for a letter from some certain ladies of Presto’s acquaintance,
+that live at St. Mary’s, {152b} and are called in a certain language, our
+little MD.  No, stay, I don’t expect one these six days, that will be
+just three weeks; an’t I a reasonable creature?  We are plagued here with
+an October Club, that is, a set of above a hundred Parliament men of the
+country, who drink October beer at home, and meet every evening at a
+tavern near the Parliament to consult affairs, and drive things on to
+extremes against the Whigs, to call the old Ministry to account, and get
+off five or six heads. {152c}  The Ministry seem not to regard them; yet
+one of them in confidence told me that there must be something thought
+on, to settle things better.  I’ll tell you one great State secret: the
+Queen, sensible how much she was governed by the late Ministry, runs a
+little into t’other extreme, and is jealous in that point, even of those
+who got her out of the others’ hands.  The Ministry is for gentler
+measures, and the other Tories for more violent.  Lord Rivers, talking to
+me the other day, cursed the paper called the _Examiner_, for speaking
+civilly of the Duke of Marlborough; this I happened to talk of to the
+Secretary, who blamed the warmth of that lord and some others, and swore
+that if their advice were followed they would be blown up in twenty-four
+hours.  And I have reason to think that they will endeavour to prevail on
+the Queen to put her affairs more in the hands of a Ministry than she
+does at present; and there are, I believe, two men thought on, one of
+them you have often met the name of in my letters.  But so much for
+politics.
+
+19.  This proved a terrible rainy day, which prevented my walk into the
+City, and I was only able to run and dine with my neighbour Vanhomrigh,
+where Sir Andrew Fountaine dined too, who has just began to sally out,
+and has shipped his mother and sister, who were his nurses, back to the
+country.  This evening was fair, and I walked a little in the Park, till
+Prior made me go with him to the Smyrna Coffee-house, where I sat a
+while, and saw four or five Irish persons, who are very handsome, genteel
+fellows; but I know not their names.  I came away at seven, and got home.
+Two days ago I writ to Bernage, and told him what I had done, and
+directed the letter to Mr. Curry’s, to be left with Dingley.  Brigadiers
+Hill and Masham, brother and husband to Mrs. Masham, the Queen’s
+favourite, Colonel Disney, {153} and I, have recommended Bernage to the
+Duke of Argyle; and Secretary St. John has given the Duke my memorial;
+and, besides, Hill tells me, that Bernage’s colonel, Fielding, {154}
+designs to make him his captain-lieutenant: but I believe I said this to
+you before, and in this letter; but I will not look.
+
+20.  Morning.  It snows terribly again; and ’tis mistaken, for I now want
+a little good weather.  I bid you good-morrow; and, if it clear up, get
+you gone to poor Mrs. Walls, who has had a hard time of it, but is now
+pretty well again.  I am sorry it is a girl: the poor Archdeacon too, see
+how simply he looked when they told him: what did it cost Stella to be
+gossip?  I’ll rise; so, d’ye hear, let me see you at night; and do not
+stay late out, and catch cold, sirrahs.—At night.  It grew good weather,
+and I got a good walk, and dined with Ford upon his Opera-day; but, now
+all his wine is gone, I shall dine with him no more.  I hope to send this
+letter before I hear from MD, methinks there is—something great in doing
+so, only I can’t express where it lies; and, faith, this shall go by
+Saturday, as sure as you’re a rogue.  Mrs. Edgworth was to set out but
+last Monday; so you won’t have your box so soon perhaps as this letter;
+but Sterne told me since that it is safe at Chester, and that she will
+take care of it.  I’d give a guinea you had it.
+
+21.  Morning.  Faith, I hope it will be fair for me to walk into the
+City; for I take all occasions of walking.—I should be plaguy busy at
+Laracor if I were there now, cutting down willows, planting others,
+scouring my canal, and every kind of thing.  If Raymond goes over this
+summer, you must submit, and make them a visit, that we may have another
+eel and trout fishing; and that Stella may ride by, and see Presto in his
+morning-gown in the garden, and so go up with Joe to the Hill of Bree,
+and round by Scurlock’s Town.  O Lord, how I remember names! faith, it
+gives me short sighs; therefore no more of that, if you love me.
+Good-morrow, I will go rise like a gentleman; my pills say I must.—At
+night.  Lady Kerry sent to desire me to engage some lords about an affair
+she has in their house here: I called to see her, but found she had
+already engaged every lord I knew, and that there was no great difficulty
+in the matter; and it rained like a dog; so I took coach, for want of
+better exercise, and dined privately with a hang-dog in the City, and
+walked back in the evening.  The days are now long enough to walk in the
+Park after dinner; and so I do whenever it is fair.  This walking is a
+strange remedy: Mr. Prior walks, to make himself fat, and I to bring
+myself down; he has generally a cough, which he only calls a cold; we
+often walk round the Park together.  So I’ll go sleep.
+
+22.  It snowed all this morning prodigiously, and was some inches thick
+in three or four hours.  I dined with Mr. Lewis of the Secretary’s office
+at his lodgings: the chairmen that carried me squeezed a great fellow
+against a wall, who wisely turned his back, and broke one of the
+side-glasses in a thousand pieces.  I fell a scolding, pretended I was
+like to be cut to pieces, and made them set down the chair in the Park,
+while they picked out the bits of glasses; and, when I paid them, I
+quarrelled still; so they dared not grumble, and I came off for my fare;
+but I was plaguily afraid they would have said, “God bless your honour,
+won’t you give us something for our glass?”  Lewis and I were forming a
+project how I might get three or four hundred pounds, {155} which I
+suppose may come to nothing.  I hope Smyth has brought you your
+palsy-drops.  How does Stella do?  I begin more and more to desire to
+know.  The three weeks since I had your last is over within two days, and
+I will allow three for accidents.
+
+23.  The snow is gone every bit, except the remainder of some great balls
+made by the boys.  Mr. Sterne was with me this morning about an affair he
+has before the Treasury.  That drab Mrs. Edgworth is not yet set out, but
+will infallibly next Monday: and this is the third infallible Monday, and
+pox take her!  So you will have this letter first; and this shall go
+to-morrow; and, if I have one from MD in that time, I will not answer it
+till my next; only I will say, “Madam, I received your letter, and so,
+and so.”  I dined to-day with my Mistress Butler, {156a} who grows very
+disagreeable.
+
+24.  Morning.  This letter certainly goes this evening, sure as you’re
+alive, young women, and then you will be so shamed that I have had none
+from you; and, if I was to reckon like you, I would say, I were six
+letters before you, for this is N. 16, and I have had your N. 10.  But I
+reckon you have received but fourteen, and have sent eleven.  I think to
+go to-day a Minister-of-State-hunting in the Court of Requests; for I
+have something to say to Mr. Harley.  And it is fine, cold, sunshiny
+weather; I wish dear MD would walk this morning in your Stephen’s Green;
+’tis as good as our Park, but not so large. {156b}  Faith, this summer
+we’ll take a coach for sixpence {156c} to the Green Well, the two walks,
+and thence all the way to Stoyte’s. {156d}  My hearty service to Goody
+Stoyte and Catherine; and I hope Mrs. Walls had a good time.  How
+inconstant I am! I can’t imagine I was ever in love with her.  Well, I’m
+going; what have you to say?  _I do not care how I write now_. {156e}  I
+don’t design to write on this side; these few lines are but so much more
+than your due; so I will write _large_ or small as I please.  O, faith,
+my hands are starving in bed; I believe it is a hard frost.  I must rise,
+and bid you good-bye, for I’ll seal this letter immediately, and carry it
+in my pocket, and put it into the post-office with my own fair hands.
+Farewell.
+
+This letter is just a fortnight’s journal to-day.  Yes, and so it is, I’m
+sure, says you, with your two eggs a penny.
+
+Lele, lele, lele. {157}
+
+O Lord, I am saying lele, lele, to myself, in all our little keys: and,
+now you talk of keys, that dog Patrick broke the key-general of the chest
+of drawers with six locks, and I have been so plagued to get a new one,
+besides my good two shillings!
+
+
+
+LETTER XVII.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Feb._ 24, 1710–11.
+
+NOW, young women, I gave in my sixteenth this evening.  I dined with Ford
+(it was his Opera-day) as usual; it is very convenient to me to do so,
+for coming home early after a walk in the Park, which now the days will
+allow.  I called on the Secretary at his office, and he had forgot to
+give the memorial about Bernage to the Duke of Argyle; but, two days ago,
+I met the Duke, who desired I would give it him myself, which should have
+more power with him than all the Ministry together, as he protested
+solemnly, repeated it two or three times, and bid me count upon it.  So
+that I verily believe Bernage will be in a very good way to establish
+himself.  I think I can do no more for him at present, and there’s an end
+of that; and so get you gone to bed, for it is late.
+
+25.  The three weeks are out yesterday since I had your last, and so now
+I will be expecting every day a pretty dear letter from my own MD, and
+hope to hear that Stella has been much better in her head and eyes: my
+head continues as it was, no fits, but a little disorder every day, which
+I can easily bear, if it will not grow worse.  I dined to-day with Mr.
+Secretary St. John, on condition I might choose my company, which were
+Lord Rivers, Lord Carteret, Sir Thomas Mansel, {158a} and Mr. Lewis; I
+invited Masham, Hill, Sir John Stanley, and George Granville, but they
+were engaged; and I did it in revenge of his having such bad company when
+I dined with him before; so we laughed, etc.  And I ventured to go to
+church to-day, which I have not done this month before.  Can you send me
+such a good account of Stella’s health, pray now?  Yes, I hope, and
+better too.  We dined (says you) at the Dean’s, and played at cards till
+twelve, and there came in Mr. French, and Dr. Travors, and Dr.
+Whittingham, and Mr. (I forget his name, that I always tell Mrs. Walls
+of) the banker’s son, a pox on him.  And we were so merry; I vow they are
+pure good company.  But I lost a crown; for you must know I had always
+hands tempting me to go out, but never took in anything, and often two
+black aces without a manilio; was not that hard, Presto?  Hold your
+tongue, etc.
+
+26.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary about some business, and he
+tells me that Colonel Fielding is now going to make Bernage his
+captain-lieutenant, that is, a captain by commission, and the perquisites
+of the company; but not captain’s pay, only the first step to it.  I
+suppose he will like it; and the recommendation to the Duke of Argyle
+goes on.  And so trouble me no more about your Bernage; the jackanapes
+understands what fair solicitors he has got, I warrant you.  Sir Andrew
+Fountaine and I dined, by invitation, with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.  You say they
+are of no consequence: why, they keep as good female company as I do
+male; I see all the drabs of quality at this end of the town with them: I
+saw two Lady Bettys {158b} there this afternoon; the beauty of one, the
+good-breeding and nature of t’other, and the wit of neither, would have
+made a fine woman.  Rare walking in the Park now: why don’t you walk in
+the Green of St. Stephen?  The walks there are finer gravelled than the
+Mall.  What beasts the Irish women are, never to walk!
+
+27.  Darteneuf and I, and little Harrison the new Tatler, and Jervas the
+painter, dined to-day with James, {159} I know not his other name, but it
+is one of Darteneuf’s dining-places, who is a true epicure.  James is
+clerk of the kitchen to the Queen, and has a little snug house at St.
+James’s; and we had the Queen’s wine, and such very fine victuals that I
+could not eat it.  Three weeks and three days since my last letter from
+MD; rare doings! why, truly we were so busy with poor Mrs. Walls, that
+indeed, Presto, we could not write, we were afraid the poor woman would
+have died; and it pitied us to see the Archdeacon, how concerned he was.
+The Dean never came to see her but once; but now she is up again, and we
+go and sit with her in the evenings.  The child died the next day after
+it was born; and I believe, between friends, she is not very sorry for
+it.—Indeed, Presto, you are plaguy silly to-night, and han’t guessed one
+word right; for she and the child are both well, and it is a fine girl,
+likely to live; and the Dean was godfather, and Mrs. Catherine and I were
+godmothers; I was going to say Stoyte, but I think I have heard they
+don’t put maids and married women together; though I know not why I think
+so, nor I don’t care; what care I? but I must prate, etc.
+
+28.  I walked to-day into the City for my health, and there dined; which
+I always do when the weather is fair, and business permits, that I may be
+under a necessity of taking a good walk, which is the best thing I can do
+at present for my health.  Some bookseller has raked up everything I
+writ, and published it t’other day in one volume; but I know nothing of
+it, ’twas without my knowledge or consent: it makes a four-shilling book,
+and is called _Miscellanies in Prose and Verse_. {160a}  Tooke pretends
+he knows nothing of it; but I doubt he is at the bottom.  One must have
+patience with these things; the best of it is, I shall be plagued no
+more.  However, I will bring a couple of them over with me for MD;
+perhaps you may desire to see them.  I hear they sell mightily.
+
+March 1.  Morning.  I have been calling to Patrick to look in his almanac
+for the day of the month; I did not know but it might be leap-year.  The
+almanac says ’tis the third after leap-year; and I always thought till
+now, that every third year was leap-year.  I am glad they come so seldom;
+but I’m sure ’twas otherwise when I was a young man; I see times are
+mightily changed since then.—Write to me, sirrahs; be sure do by the time
+this side is done, and I’ll keep t’other side for the answer: so I’ll go
+write to the Bishop of Clogher; good-morrow, sirrahs.—Night.  I dined
+to-day at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, being a rainy day; and Lady Betty Butler,
+knowing it, sent to let me know she expected my company in the evening,
+where the Vans (so we call them) were to be.  The Duchess {160b} and they
+do not go over this summer with the Duke; so I go to bed.
+
+2.  This rainy weather undoes me in coaches and chairs.  I was traipsing
+to-day with your Mr. Sterne, to go along with them to Moore, {160c} and
+recommend his business to the Treasury.  Sterne tells me his dependence
+is wholly on me; but I have absolutely refused to recommend it to Mr.
+Harley, because I have troubled him lately so much with other folks’
+affairs; and besides, to tell the truth, Mr. Harley told me he did not
+like Sterne’s business: however, I will serve him, because I suppose MD
+would have me.  But, in saying his dependence lies wholly on me, he lies,
+and is a fool.  I dined with Lord Abercorn, whose son Peasley {161a} will
+be married at Easter to ten thousand pounds.
+
+3.  I forgot to tell you that yesterday morning I was at Mr. Harley’s
+levee: he swore I came in spite, to see him among a parcel of fools.  My
+business was to desire I might let the Duke of Ormond know how the affair
+stood of the First-Fruits.  He promised to let him know it, and engaged
+me to dine with him to-day.  Every Saturday, Lord Keeper, Secretary St.
+John, and I dine with him, and sometimes Lord Rivers; and they let in
+none else.  Patrick brought me some letters into the Park; among which
+one was from Walls; and t’other, yes, faith, t’other was from our little
+MD, N. 11.  I read the rest in the Park, and MD’s in a chair as I went
+from St. James’s to Mr. Harley; and glad enough I was, faith, to read it,
+and see all right.  Oh, but I won’t answer it these three or four days at
+least, or may be sooner.  An’t I silly? faith, your letters would make a
+dog silly, if I had a dog to be silly, but it must be a little dog.—I
+stayed with Mr. Harley till past nine, where we had much discourse
+together after the rest were gone; and I gave him very truly my opinion
+where he desired it.  He complained he was not very well, and has engaged
+me to dine with him again on Monday.  So I came home afoot, like a fine
+gentleman, to tell you all this.
+
+4.  I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary St. John; and after dinner he had a
+note from Mr. Harley, that he was much out of order. {161b}  Pray God
+preserve his health! everything depends upon it.  The Parliament at
+present cannot go a step without him, nor the Queen neither.  I long to
+be in Ireland; but the Ministry beg me to stay: however, when this
+Parliament lurry {161c} is over, I will endeavour to steal away; by which
+time I hope the First-Fruit business will be done.  This kingdom is
+certainly ruined as much as was ever any bankrupt merchant.  We must have
+peace, let it be a bad or a good one, though nobody dares talk of it.
+The nearer I look upon things, the worse I like them.  I believe the
+confederacy will soon break to pieces, and our factions at home increase.
+The Ministry is upon a very narrow bottom, and stand like an isthmus,
+between the Whigs on one side, and violent Tories on the other.  They are
+able seamen; but the tempest is too great, the ship too rotten, and the
+crew all against them.  Lord Somers has been twice in the Queen’s closet,
+once very lately; and your Duchess of Somerset, {162} who now has the
+key, is a most insinuating woman; and I believe they will endeavour to
+play the same game that has been played against them.—I have told them of
+all this, which they know already, but they cannot help it.  They have
+cautioned the Queen so much against being governed, that she observes it
+too much.  I could talk till to-morrow upon these things, but they make
+me melancholy.  I could not but observe that lately, after much
+conversation with Mr. Harley, though he is the most fearless man alive,
+and the least apt to despond, he confessed to me that uttering his mind
+to me gave him ease.
+
+5.  Mr. Harley continues out of order, yet his affairs force him abroad:
+he is subject to a sore throat, and was cupped last night: I sent and
+called two or three times.  I hear he is better this evening.  I dined
+to-day in the City with Dr. Freind at a third body’s house, where I was
+to pass for somebody else; and there was a plaguy silly jest carried on,
+that made me sick of it.  Our weather grows fine, and I will walk like
+camomile.  And pray walk you to your Dean’s, or your Stoyte’s, or your
+Manley’s, or your Walls’.  But your new lodgings make you so proud, you
+will walk less than ever.  Come, let me go to bed, sirrahs.
+
+6.  Mr. Harley’s going out yesterday has put him a little backwards.  I
+called twice, and sent, for I am in pain for him.  Ford caught me, and
+made me dine with him on his Opera-day; so I brought Mr. Lewis with me,
+and sat with him till six.  I have not seen Mr. Addison these three
+weeks; all our friendship is over.  I go to no Coffee-house.  I presented
+a parson of the Bishop of Clogher’s, one Richardson, {163a} to the Duke
+of Ormond to-day: he is translating prayers and sermons into Irish, and
+has a project about instructing the Irish in the Protestant religion.
+
+7.  Morning.  Faith, a little would make me, I could find in my heart, if
+it were not for one thing, I have a good mind, if I had not something
+else to do, I would answer your dear saucy letter.  O, Lord, I am going
+awry with writing in bed.  O, faith, but I must answer it, or I shan’t
+have room, for it must go on Saturday; and don’t think I will fill the
+third side, I an’t come to that yet, young women.  Well then, as for your
+Bernage, I have said enough: I writ to him last week.—Turn over that
+leaf.  Now, what says MD to the world to come?  I tell you, Madam Stella,
+my head is a great deal better, and I hope will keep so.  How came yours
+to be fifteen days coming, and you had my fifteenth in seven?  Answer me
+that, rogues.  Your being with Goody Walls is excuse enough: I find I was
+mistaken in the sex, ’tis a boy. {163b}  Yes, I understand your cypher,
+and Stella guesses right, as she always does.  He {163c} gave me al
+bsadnuk lboinlpl dfaonr ufainf btoy dpionufnad, {163d} which I sent him
+again by Mr. Lewis, to whom I writ a very complaining letter that was
+showed him; and so the matter ended.  He told me he had a quarrel with
+me; I said I had another with him, and we returned to our friendship, and
+I should think he loves me as well as a great Minister can love a man in
+so short a time.  Did not I do right?  I am glad at heart you have got
+your palsy-water; {164a} pray God Almighty it may do my dearest little
+Stella good!  I suppose Mrs. Edgworth set out last Monday se’ennight.
+Yes, I do read the _Examiners_, and they are written very finely, as you
+judge.  I do not think they are too severe on the Duke; {164b} they only
+tax him of avarice, and his avarice has ruined us.  You may count upon
+all things in them to be true.  The author has said it is not Prior, but
+perhaps it may be Atterbury.—Now, Madam Dingley, says she, ’tis fine
+weather, says she; yes, says she, and we have got to our new lodgings.  I
+compute you ought to save eight pounds by being in the others five
+months; and you have no more done it than eight thousand.  I am glad you
+are rid of that squinting, blinking Frenchman.  I will give you a bill on
+Parvisol for five pounds for the half-year.  And must I go on at four
+shillings a week, and neither eat nor drink for it?  Who the Devil said
+Atterbury and your Dean were alike?  I never saw your Chancellor, nor his
+chaplain.  The latter has a good deal of learning, and is a well-wisher
+to be an author: your Chancellor is an excellent man.  As for Patrick’s
+bird, he bought him for his tameness, and is grown the wildest I ever
+saw.  His wings have been quilled thrice, and are now up again: he will
+be able to fly after us to Ireland, if he be willing.—Yes, Mrs. Stella,
+Dingley writes more like Presto than you; for all you superscribed the
+letter, as who should say, Why should not I write like our Presto as well
+as Dingley?  You with your awkward SS; {164c} cannot you write them thus,
+SS?  No, but always SSS.  Spiteful sluts, to affront Presto’s writing; as
+that when you shut your eyes you write most like Presto.  I know the time
+when I did not write to you half so plain as I do now; but I take pity on
+you both.  I am very much concerned for Mrs. Walls’s eyes.  Walls says
+nothing of it to me in his letter dated after yours.  You say, “If she
+recovers, she may lose her sight.”  I hope she is in no danger of her
+life.  Yes, Ford is as sober as I please: I use him to walk with me as an
+easy companion, always ready for what I please, when I am weary of
+business and Ministers.  I don’t go to a Coffee-house twice a month.  I
+am very regular in going to sleep before eleven.—And so you say that
+Stella is a pretty girl; and so she be, and methinks I see her just now
+as handsome as the day is long.  Do you know what? when I am writing in
+our language, I make up my mouth just as if I was speaking it.  I caught
+myself at it just now.  And I suppose Dingley is so fair and so fresh as
+a lass in May, and has her health, and no spleen.—In your account you
+sent do you reckon as usual from the 1st of November {165a} was
+twelvemonth?  Poor Stella, will not Dingley leave her a little daylight
+to write to Presto?  Well, well, we’ll have daylight shortly, spite of
+her teeth; and zoo {165b} must cly Lele and Hele, and Hele aden.  Must
+loo mimitate Pdfr, pay?  Iss, and so la shall.  And so lele’s fol ee
+rettle.  Dood-mollow.—At night.  Mrs. Barton sent this morning to invite
+me to dinner; and there I dined, just in that genteel manner that MD used
+when they would treat some better sort of body than usual.
+
+8.  O dear MD, my heart is almost broken.  You will hear the thing before
+this comes to you.  I writ a full account of it this night to the
+Archbishop of Dublin; and the Dean may tell you the particulars from the
+Archbishop.  I was in a sorry way to write, but thought it might be
+proper to send a true account of the fact; for you will hear a thousand
+lying circumstances.  It is of Mr. Harley’s being stabbed this afternoon,
+at three o’clock, at a Committee of the Council.  I was playing Lady
+Catharine Morris’s {166a} cards, where I dined, when young Arundel {166b}
+came in with the story.  I ran away immediately to the Secretary, which
+was in my way: no one was at home.  I met Mrs. St. John in her chair; she
+had heard it imperfectly.  I took a chair to Mr. Harley, who was asleep,
+and they hope in no danger; but he has been out of order, and was so when
+he came abroad to-day, and it may put him in a fever: I am in mortal pain
+for him.  That desperate French villain, Marquis de Guiscard, {166c}
+stabbed Mr. Harley.  Guiscard was taken up by Mr. Secretary St. John’s
+warrant for high treason, and brought before the Lords to be examined;
+there he stabbed Mr. Harley.  I have told all the particulars already to
+the Archbishop.  I have now, at nine, sent again, and they tell me he is
+in a fair way.  Pray pardon my distraction; I now think of all his
+kindness to me.—The poor creature now lies stabbed in his bed by a
+desperate French Popish villain.  Good-night, and God preserve you both,
+and pity me; I want it.
+
+9.  Morning; seven, in bed.  Patrick is just come from Mr. Harley’s.  He
+slept well till four; the surgeon sat {166d} up with him: he is asleep
+again: he felt a pain in his wound when he waked: they apprehend him in
+no danger.  This account the surgeon left with the porter, to tell people
+that send.  Pray God preserve him.  I am rising, and going to Mr.
+Secretary St. John.  They say Guiscard will die with the wounds Mr. St.
+John and the rest gave him.  I shall tell you more at night.—Night.  Mr.
+Harley still continues on the mending hand; but he rested ill last night,
+and felt pain.  I was early with the Secretary this morning, and I dined
+with him, and he told me several particularities of this accident, too
+long to relate now.  Mr. Harley is still mending this evening, but not at
+all out of danger; and till then I can have no peace.  Good-night, etc.,
+and pity Presto.
+
+10.  Mr. Harley was restless last night; but he has no fever, and the
+hopes of his mending increase.  I had a letter from Mr. Walls, and one
+from Mr. Bernage.  I will answer them here, not having time to write.
+Mr. Walls writes about three things.  First, about a hundred pounds from
+Dr. Raymond, of which I hear nothing, and it is now too late.  Secondly,
+about Mr. Clements: {167a} I can do nothing in it, because I am not to
+mention Mr. Pratt; and I cannot recommend without knowing Mr. Pratt’s
+objections, whose relation Clements is, and who brought him into the
+place.  The third is about my being godfather to the child: {167b} that
+is in my power, and (since there is no remedy) will submit.  I wish you
+could hinder it; but if it can’t be helped, pay what you think proper,
+and get the Provost to stand for me, and let his Christian name be
+Harley, in honour of my friend, now lying stabbed and doubtful of his
+life.  As for Bernage, he writes me word that his colonel has offered to
+make him captain-lieutenant for a hundred pounds.  He was such a fool to
+offer him money without writing to me till it was done, though I have had
+a dozen letters from him; and then he desires I would say nothing of
+this, for fear his colonel should be angry.  People are mad.  What can I
+do?  I engaged Colonel Disney, who was one of his solicitors to the
+Secretary, and then told him the story.  He assured me that Fielding
+(Bernage’s colonel) said he might have got that sum; but, on account of
+those great recommendations he had, would give it him for nothing: and I
+would have Bernage write him a letter of thanks, as of a thing given him
+for nothing, upon recommendations, etc.  Disney tells me he will again
+speak to Fielding, and clear up this matter; then I will write to
+Bernage.  A pox on him for promising money till I had it promised to me;
+and then making it such a ticklish point, that one cannot expostulate
+with the colonel upon it: but let him do as I say, and there is an end.
+I engaged the Secretary of State in it; and am sure it was meant a
+kindness to me, and that no money should be given, and a hundred pounds
+is too much in a Smithfield bargain, {168a} as a major-general told me,
+whose opinion I asked.  I am now hurried, and can say no more.  Farewell,
+etc. etc.
+
+How shall I superscribe to your new lodgings, pray, madams?  Tell me but
+that, impudence and saucy-face.
+
+Are not you sauceboxes to write “lele” {168b} like Presto?  O poor
+Presto!
+
+Mr. Harley is better to-night, that makes me so pert, you saucy Gog and
+Magog.
+
+
+
+LETTER XVIII.
+
+
+                                              LONDON, _March_ 10, 1710–11.
+
+PRETTY little MD must expect little from me till Mr. Harley is out of
+danger.  We hope he is so now; but I am subject to fear for my friends.
+He has a head full of the whole business of the nation, was out of order
+when the villain stabbed him, and had a cruel contusion by the second
+blow.  But all goes on well yet.  Mr. Ford and I dined with Mr. Lewis,
+and we hope the best.
+
+11.  This morning Mr. Secretary and I met at Court, where he went to the
+Queen, who is out of order, and aguish: I doubt the worse for this
+accident to Mr. Harley.  We went together to his house, and his wound
+looks well, and he is not feverish at all, and I think it is foolish in
+me to be so much in pain as I am.  I had the penknife in my hand, which
+is broken within a quarter of an inch of the handle.  I have a mind to
+write and publish an account of all the particularities of this fact:
+{169a} it will be very curious, and I would do it when Mr. Harley is past
+danger.
+
+12.  We have been in terrible pain to-day about Mr. Harley, who never
+slept last night, and has been very feverish.  But this evening I called
+there; and young Mr. Harley (his only son) tells me he is now much
+better, and was then asleep.  They let nobody see him, and that is
+perfectly right.  The Parliament cannot go on till he is well, and are
+forced to adjourn their money businesses, which none but he can help them
+in.  Pray God preserve him.
+
+13.  Mr. Harley is better to-day, slept well all night, and we are a
+little out of our fears.  I send and call three or four times every day.
+I went into the City for a walk, and dined there with a private man; and
+coming home this evening, broke my shin in the Strand over a tub of sand
+left just in the way.  I got home dirty enough, and went straight to bed,
+where I have been cooking it with gold-beater’s skin, and have been
+peevish enough with Patrick, who was near an hour bringing a rag from
+next door.  It is my right shin, where never any humour fell when t’other
+used to swell; so I apprehend it less: however, I shall not stir till
+’tis well, which I reckon will be in a week.  I am very careful in these
+sort of things; but I wish I had Mrs. J—’s water: {169b} she is out of
+town, and I must make a shift with alum.  I will dine with Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh till I am well, who lives but five doors off; and that I may
+venture.
+
+14.  My journals are like to be very diverting, now I cannot stir abroad,
+between accounts of Mr. Harley’s mending, and of my broken shin.  I just
+walked to my neighbour Vanhomrigh at two, and came away at six, when
+little Harrison the Tatler came to me, and begged me to dictate a paper
+to him, which I was forced in charity to do.  Mr. Harley still mends; and
+I hope in a day or two to trouble you no more with him, nor with my shin.
+Go to bed and sleep, sirrahs, that you may rise to-morrow and walk to
+Donnybrook, and lose your money with Stoyte and the Dean; do so, dear
+little rogues, and drink Presto’s health.  O pray, don’t you drink
+Presto’s health sometimes with your deans, and your Stoytes, and your
+Walls, and your Manleys, and your everybodies, pray now?  I drink MD’s to
+myself a hundred thousand times.
+
+15.  I was this morning at Mr. Secretary St. John’s for all my shin; and
+he has given me for young Harrison the Tatler the prettiest employment in
+Europe; secretary to my Lord Raby, {170a} who is to be Ambassador
+Extraordinary at the Hague, where all the great affairs will be
+concerted; so we shall lose the _Tatlers_ in a fortnight.  I will send
+Harrison to-morrow morning to thank the Secretary.  Poor Biddy Floyd
+{170b} has got the smallpox.  I called this morning to see Lady Betty
+Germaine, and when she told me so, I fairly took my leave.  I have the
+luck of it; {170c} for about ten days ago I was to see Lord Carteret;
+{170d} and my lady was entertaining me with telling of a young lady, a
+cousin, who was then ill in the house of the smallpox, and is since dead:
+it was near Lady Betty’s, and I fancy Biddy took the fright by it.  I
+dined with Mr. Secretary; and a physician came in just from Guiscard, who
+tells us he is dying of his wounds, and can hardly live till to-morrow.
+A poor wench that Guiscard kept, sent him a bottle of sack; but the
+keeper would not let him touch it, for fear it was poison.  He had two
+quarts of old clotted blood come out of his side to-day, and is
+delirious.  I am sorry he is dying; for they had found out a way to hang
+him.  He certainly had an intention to murder the Queen.
+
+16.  I have made but little progress in this letter for so many days,
+thanks to Guiscard and Mr. Harley; and it would be endless to tell you
+all the particulars of that odious fact.  I do not yet hear that Guiscard
+is dead, but they say ’tis impossible he should recover.  I walked too
+much yesterday for a man with a broken shin; to-day I rested, and went no
+farther than Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, where I dined; and Lady Betty Butler
+coming in about six, I was forced in good manners to sit with her till
+nine; then I came home, and Mr. Ford came in to visit my shin, and sat
+with me till eleven: so I have been very idle and naughty.  It vexes me
+to the pluck {171a} that I should lose walking this delicious day.  Have
+you seen the _Spectator_ {171b} yet, a paper that comes out every day?
+’Tis written by Mr. Steele, who seems to have gathered new life, and have
+a new fund of wit; it is in the same nature as his _Tatlers_, and they
+have all of them had something pretty.  I believe Addison and he club.  I
+never see them; and I plainly told Mr. Harley and Mr. St. John, ten days
+ago, before my Lord Keeper and Lord Rivers, that I had been foolish
+enough to spend my credit with them in favour of Addison and Steele; but
+that I would engage and promise never to say one word in their behalf,
+having been used so ill for what I had already done.—So, now I am got
+into the way of prating again, there will be no quiet for me.
+
+   When Presto begins to prate,
+   Give him a rap upon the pate.
+
+O Lord, how I blot! it is time to leave off, etc.
+
+17.  Guiscard died this morning at two; and the coroner’s inquest have
+found that he was killed by bruises received from a messenger, so to
+clear the Cabinet Councillors from whom he received his wounds.  I had a
+letter from Raymond, who cannot hear of your box; but I hope you have it
+before this comes to your hands.  I dined to-day with Mr. Lewis of the
+Secretary’s office.  Mr. Harley has abundance of extravasated blood comes
+from his breast out of his wound, and will not be well so soon as we
+expected.  I had something to say, but cannot call it to mind.  (What was
+it?)
+
+18.  I was to-day at Court to look for the Duke of Argyle, and gave him
+the memorial about Bernage.  The Duke goes with the first fair wind.  I
+could not find him, but I have given the memorial to another to give him;
+and, however, it shall be sent after him.  Bernage has made a blunder in
+offering money to his colonel without my advice; however, he is made
+captain-lieutenant, only he must recruit the company, which will cost him
+forty pounds, and that is cheaper than an hundred.  I dined to-day with
+Mr. Secretary St. John, and stayed till seven, but would not drink his
+champagne and burgundy, for fear of the gout.  My shin mends, but is not
+well.  I hope it will by the time I send this letter, next Saturday.
+
+19.  I went to-day into the City, but in a coach, and sossed {172a} up my
+leg on the seat; and as I came home, I went to see poor Charles Barnard’s
+{172b} books, which are to be sold by auction, and I itch to lay out nine
+or ten pounds for some fine editions of fine authors.  But ’tis too far,
+and I shall let it slip, as I usually do all such opportunities.  I dined
+in a coffee-house with Stratford upon chops and some of his wine.  Where
+did MD dine?  Why, poor MD dined at home to-day, because of the
+Archbishop, and they could not go abroad, and had a breast of mutton and
+a pint of wine.  I hope Mrs. Walls mends; and pray give me an account
+what sort of godfather I made, and whether I behaved myself handsomely.
+The Duke of Argyle is gone; and whether he has my memorial, I know not,
+till I see Dr. Arbuthnot, {173a} to whom I gave it.  That hard name
+belongs to a Scotch doctor, an acquaintance of the Duke’s and me; Stella
+can’t pronounce it.  Oh that we were at Laracor this fine day! the
+willows begin to peep, and the quicks to bud.  My dream is out: I was
+a-dreamed last night that I ate ripe cherries.—And now they begin to
+catch the pikes, and will shortly the trouts (pox on these
+Ministers!)—and I would fain know whether the floods were ever so high as
+to get over the holly bank or the river walk; if so, then all my pikes
+are gone; but I hope not.  Why don’t you ask Parvisol these things,
+sirrahs?  And then my canal, and trouts, and whether the bottom be fine
+and clear?  But harkee, ought not Parvisol to pay in my last year’s rents
+and arrears out of his hands?  I am thinking, if either of you have heads
+to take his accounts, it should be paid in to you; otherwise to Mr.
+Walls.  I will write an order on t’other side; and do as you will.
+Here’s a world of business; but I must go sleep, I’m drowsy; and so
+good-night, etc.
+
+20.  This sore shin ruins me in coach-hire; no less than two shillings
+to-day going and coming from the City, where I dined with one you never
+heard of, and passed an insipid day.  I writ this post to Bernage, with
+the account I told you above.  I hope he will like it; ’tis his own
+fault, or it would have been better.  I reckon your next letter will be
+full of Mr. Harley’s stabbing.  He still mends, but abundance of
+extravasated blood has come out of the wound: he keeps his bed, and sees
+nobody.  The Speaker’s eldest son {173b} is just dead of the smallpox,
+and the House is adjourned a week, to give him time to wipe off his
+tears.  I think it very handsomely done; but I believe one reason is,
+that they want Mr. Harley so much.  Biddy Floyd is like to do well: and
+so go to your Dean’s, and roast his oranges, and lose your money, do so,
+you saucy sluts.  Stella, you lost three shillings and fourpence t’other
+night at Stoyte’s, yes, you did, and Presto stood in a corner, and saw
+you all the while, and then stole away.  I dream very often I am in
+Ireland, and that I have left my clothes and things behind me, and have
+not taken leave of anybody; and that the Ministry expect me to-morrow,
+and such nonsense.
+
+21.  I would not for a guinea have a letter from you till this goes; and
+go it shall on Saturday, faith.  I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, to save my
+shin, and then went on some business to the Secretary, and he was not at
+home.
+
+22.  Yesterday was a short day’s journal: but what care I? what cares
+saucy Presto?  Darteneuf {174a} invited me to dinner to-day.  Do not you
+know Darteneuf?  That’s the man that knows everything, and that everybody
+knows; and that knows where a knot of rabble are going on a holiday, and
+when they were there last: and then I went to the Coffee-house.  My shin
+mends, but is not quite healed: I ought to keep it up, but I don’t; I
+e’en let it go as it comes.  Pox take Parvisol and his watch!  If I do
+not receive the ten-pound bill I am to get towards it, I will neither
+receive watch nor chain; so let Parvisol know.
+
+23.  I this day appointed the Duke of Ormond to meet him at Ned
+Southwell’s, about an affair of printing Irish Prayer-Books, etc., {174b}
+but the Duke never came.  There Southwell had letters that two packets
+are taken; so if MD writ then, the letters are gone; for they are packets
+coming hither.  Mr. Harley is not yet well, but his extravasated blood
+continues, and I doubt he will not be quite well in a good while: I find
+you have heard of the fact by Southwell’s letters from Ireland: what do
+you think of it?  I dined with Sir John Perceval, {175a} and saw his lady
+sitting in the bed, in the forms of a lying-in woman; and coming home my
+sore shin itched, and I forgot what it was, and rubbed off the scab, and
+blood came; but I am now got into bed, and have put on alum curd, and it
+is almost well.  Lord Rivers told me yesterday a piece of bad news, as a
+secret, that the Pretender is going to be married to the Duke of Savoy’s
+daughter. {175b}  ’Tis very bad if it be true.  We were walking in the
+Mall with some Scotch lords, and he could not tell it until they were
+gone, and he bade me tell it to none but the Secretary of State and MD.
+This goes to-morrow, and I have no room but to bid my dearest little MD
+good-night.
+
+24.  I will now seal up this letter, and send it; for I reckon to have
+none from you (’tis morning now) between this and night; and I will put
+it in the post with my own hands.  I am going out in great haste; so
+farewell, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XIX.
+
+
+                                              LONDON, _March_ 24, 1710–11.
+
+IT was a little cross in Presto not to send to-day to the Coffee-house to
+see whether there was a letter from MD before I sent away mine; but,
+faith, I did it on purpose, because I would scorn to answer two letters
+of yours successively.  This way of journal is the worst in the world for
+writing of news, unless one does it the last day; and so I will observe
+henceforward, if there be any politics or stuff worth sending.  My shin
+mends in spite of the scratching last night.  I dined to-day at Ned
+Southwell’s with the Bishop of Ossory {176a} and a parcel of Irish
+gentlemen.  Have you yet seen any of the _Spectators_?  Just three weeks
+to-day since I had your last, N. 11.  I am afraid I have lost one by the
+packet that was taken; that will vex me, considering the pains MD take to
+write, especially poor pretty Stella, and her weak eyes.  God bless them
+and the owner, and send them well, and little me together, I hope ere
+long.  This illness of Mr. Harley puts everything backwards, and he is
+still down, and like to be so, by that extravasated blood which comes
+from his breast to the wound: it was by the second blow Guiscard gave him
+after the penknife was broken.  I am shocked at that villainy whenever I
+think of it.  Biddy Floyd is past danger, but will lose all her beauty:
+she had them mighty thick, especially about her nose.
+
+25.  Morning.  I wish you a merry New Year; this is the first day of the
+year, you know, with us, and ’tis Lady-day.  I must rise and go to my
+Lord Keeper: it is not shaving-day to-day, so I shall be early.  I am to
+dine with Mr. Secretary St. John.  Good-morrow, my mistresses both,
+good-morrow.  Stella will be peeping out of her room at Mrs. De Caudres’
+{176b} down upon the folks as they come from church; and there comes Mrs.
+Proby, {176c} and that is my Lady Southwell, {176d} and there is Lady
+Betty Rochfort. {176e}  I long to hear how you are settled in your new
+lodgings.  I wish I were rid of my old ones, and that Mrs. Brent could
+contrive to put up my books in boxes, and lodge them in some safe place,
+and you keep my papers of importance.  But I must rise, I tell you.—At
+night.  So I visited and dined as I told you, and what of that?  We have
+let Guiscard be buried at last, after showing him pickled in a trough
+this fortnight for twopence apiece: and the fellow that showed would
+point to his body, and, “See, gentlemen, this is the wound that was given
+him by his Grace the Duke of Ormond; and this is the wound,” etc., and
+then the show was over, and another set of rabble came in.  ’Tis hard our
+laws would not suffer us to hang his body in chains, because he was not
+tried; and in the eye of our law every man is innocent till then.—Mr.
+Harley is still very weak, and never out of bed.
+
+26.  This was a most delicious day; and my shin being past danger, I
+walked like lightning above two hours in the Park.  We have generally one
+fair day, and then a great deal of rain for three or four days together.
+All things are at a stop in Parliament for want of Mr. Harley; they
+cannot stir an inch without him in their most material affairs: and we
+fear, by the caprice of Radcliffe, who will admit none but his own
+surgeon, {177} he has not been well looked after.  I dined at an alehouse
+with Mr. Lewis, but had his wine.  Don’t you begin to see the flowers and
+blossoms of the field?  How busy should I be now at Laracor!  No news of
+your box?  I hope you have it, and are this minute drinking the
+chocolate, and that the smell of the Brazil tobacco has not affected it.
+I would be glad to know whether you like it, because I would send you
+more by people that are now every day thinking of going to Ireland;
+therefore pray tell me, and tell me soon: and I will have the strong box.
+
+27.  A rainy, wretched, scurvy day from morning till night: and my
+neighbour Vanhomrigh invited me to dine with them and this evening I
+passed at Mr. Prior’s with Dr. Freind; and ’tis now past twelve, so I
+must go sleep.
+
+28.  Morning.  O, faith, you’re an impudent saucy couple of sluttikins
+for presuming to write so soon, said I to myself this morning; who knows
+but there may be a letter from MD at the Coffee-house?  Well, you must
+know, and so, I just now sent Patrick, and he brought me three letters,
+but not one from MD, no indeed, for I read all the superscriptions; and
+not one from MD.  One I opened, it was from the Archbishop; {178a}
+t’other I opened, it was from Staunton; {178b} the third I took, and
+looked at the hand.  Whose hand is this? says I; yes, says I, whose hand
+is this?  Then there was wax between the folds; then I began to suspect;
+then I peeped; faith, it was Walls’s hand after all: then I opened it in
+a rage, and then it was little MD’s hand, dear, little, pretty, charming
+MD’s sweet hand again.  O Lord, an’t here a clutter and a stir, and a
+bustle? never saw the like.  Faith, I believe yours lay some days at the
+post-office, and that it came before my eighteenth went, but that I did
+not expect it, and I hardly ever go there.  Well, and so you think I’ll
+answer this letter now; no, faith, and so I won’t.  I’ll make you wait,
+young women; but I’ll inquire immediately about poor Dingley’s exchequer
+trangum. {178c}  What, is that Vedel again a soldier? was he broke?  I’ll
+put it in Ben Tooke’s hand.  I hope Vedel could not sell it.—At night.
+Vedel, Vedel, poh, pox, I think it is Vedeau; {178d} ay, Vedeau, now I
+have it; let me see, do you name him in yours?  Yes, Mr. John Vedeau is
+the brother; but where does this brother live?  I’ll inquire.  This was a
+fast-day for the public; so I dined late with Sir Matthew Dudley, whom I
+have not been with a great while.  He is one of those that must lose his
+employment whenever the great shake comes; and I can’t contribute to keep
+him in, though I have dropped words in his favour to the Ministry; but he
+is too violent a Whig, and friend to the Lord Treasurer, {179a} to stay
+in.  ’Tis odd to think how long they let those people keep their places;
+but the reason is, they have not enough to satisfy all expecters, and so
+they keep them all in hopes, that they may be good boys in the meantime;
+and thus the old ones hold in still.  The Comptroller {179b} told me that
+there are eight people expect his staff.  I walked after dinner to-day
+round the Park.  What, do I write politics to little young women?  Hold
+your tongue, and go to your Dean’s.
+
+29.  Morning.  If this be a fine day, I will walk into the City, and see
+Charles Barnard’s library.  What care I for your letter, saucy N. 12?  I
+will say nothing to it yet: faith, I believe this will be full before its
+time, and then go it must.  I will always write once a fortnight; and if
+it goes sooner by filling sooner, why, then there is so much clear gain.
+Morrow, morrow, rogues and lasses both, I can’t lie scribbling here in
+bed for your play; I must rise, and so morrow again.—At night.  Your
+friend Montgomery and his sister are here, as I am told by Patrick.  I
+have seen him often, but take no notice of him: he is grown very ugly and
+pimpled.  They tell me he is a gamester, and wins money.—How could I help
+it, pray?  Patrick snuffed the candle too short, and the grease ran down
+upon the paper. {179c}  It an’t my fault, ’tis Patrick’s fault; pray now
+don’t blame Presto.  I walked to-day in the City, and dined at a private
+house, and went to see the auction of poor Charles Barnard’s books; they
+were in the middle of the physic books, so I bought none; and they are so
+dear, I believe I shall buy none, and there is an end; and go to
+Stoyte’s, and I’ll go sleep.
+
+30.  Morning.  This is Good Friday, you must know; and I must rise and go
+to Mr. Secretary about some business, and Mrs. Vanhomrigh desires me to
+breakfast with her, because she is to intercede for Patrick, who is so
+often drunk and quarrelsome in the house, that I was resolved to send him
+over; but he knows all the places where I send, and is so used to my
+ways, that it would be inconvenient to me; but when I come to Ireland, I
+will discharge him. {180a}  Sir Thomas Mansel, {180b} one of the Lords of
+the Treasury, setting me down at my door to-day, saw Patrick, and swore
+he was a Teague-lander. {180c}  I am so used to his face, I never
+observed it, but thought him a pretty fellow.  Sir Andrew Fountaine and I
+supped this fast-day with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.  We were afraid Mr. Harley’s
+wound would turn to a fistula; but we think the danger is now past.  He
+rises every day, and walks about his room, and we hope he will be out in
+a fortnight.  Prior showed me a handsome paper of verses he has writ on
+Mr. Harley’s accident: {180d} they are not out; I will send them to you,
+if he will give me a copy.
+
+31.  Morning.  What shall we do to make April fools this year, now it
+happens on Sunday?  Patrick brings word that Mr. Harley still mends, and
+is up every day.  I design to see him in a few days: and he brings me
+word too that he has found out Vedeau’s brother’s shop: I shall call
+there in a day or two.  It seems the wife lodges next door to the
+brother.  I doubt the scoundrel was broke, and got a commission, or
+perhaps is a volunteer gentleman, and expects to get one by his valour.
+Morrow, sirrahs, let me rise.—At night.  I dined to-day with Sir Thomas
+Mansel.  We were walking in the Park, and Mr. Lewis came to us.  Mansel
+asked where we dined.  We said, “Together.”  He said, we should dine with
+him, only his wife {181a} desired him to bring nobody, because she had
+only a leg of mutton.  I said I would dine with him to choose; but he
+would send a servant to order a plate or two: yet this man has ten
+thousand pounds a year in land, and is a Lord of the Treasury, and is not
+covetous neither, but runs out merely by slattering {181b} and
+negligence.  The worst dinner I ever saw at the Dean’s was better: but so
+it is with abundance of people here.  I called at night at Mr. Harley’s,
+who begins to walk in his room with a stick, but is mighty weak.—See how
+much I have lost with that ugly grease. {181c}  ’Tis your fault, pray;
+and I’ll go to bed.
+
+April 1.  The Duke of Buckingham’s house fell down last night with an
+earthquake, and is half swallowed up; won’t you go and see it?—An April
+fool, an April fool, oh ho, young women.  Well, don’t be angry.  I will
+make you an April fool no more till the next time; we had no sport here,
+because it is Sunday, and Easter Sunday.  I dined with the Secretary, who
+seemed terribly down and melancholy, which Mr. Prior and Lewis observed
+as well as I: perhaps something is gone wrong; perhaps there is nothing
+in it.  God bless my own dearest MD, and all is well.
+
+2.  We have such windy weather, ’tis troublesome walking, yet all the
+rabble have got into our Park these Easter holidays.  I am plagued with
+one Richardson, an Irish parson, and his project of printing Irish
+Bibles, etc., to make you Christians in that country: I befriend him what
+I can, on account of the Archbishop and Bishop of Clogher.—But what
+business have I to meddle, etc.  Do not you remember that, sirrah Stella?
+what was that about, when you thought I was meddling with something that
+was not my business?  O, faith, you are an impudent slut, I remember your
+doings, I’ll never forget you as long as I live.  Lewis and I dined
+together at his lodgings.  But where’s the answer to this letter of MD’s?
+O, faith, Presto, you must think of that.  Time enough, says saucy
+Presto.
+
+3.  I was this morning to see Mrs. Barton: I love her better than anybody
+here, and see her seldomer.  Why, really now, so it often happens in the
+world, that where one loves a body best—pshah, pshah, you are so silly
+with your moral observations.  Well, but she told me a very good story.
+An old gentlewoman died here two months ago, and left in her will, to
+have eight men and eight maids bearers, who should have two guineas
+apiece, ten guineas to the parson for a sermon, and two guineas to the
+clerk.  But bearers, parson, and clerk must be all true virgins; and not
+to be admitted till they took their oaths of virginity: so the poor woman
+still lies unburied, and so must do till the general resurrection.—I
+called at Mr. Secretary’s, to see what the D— ailed him on Sunday.  I
+made him a very proper speech; told him I observed he was much out of
+temper; that I did not expect he would tell me the cause, but would be
+glad to see he was in better; and one thing I warned him of, never to
+appear cold to me, for I would not be treated like a schoolboy; that I
+had felt too much of that in my life already (meaning from Sir William
+Temple); that I expected every great Minister who honoured me with his
+acquaintance, if he heard or saw anything to my disadvantage, would let
+me know it in plain words, and not put me in pain to guess by the change
+or coldness of his countenance or behaviour; for it was what I would
+hardly bear from a crowned head, and I thought no subject’s favour was
+worth it; and that I designed to let my Lord Keeper {182a} and Mr. Harley
+know the same thing, that they might use me accordingly.  He took all
+right; said I had reason; vowed nothing ailed him but sitting up whole
+nights at business, and one night at drinking; would have had me dine
+with him and Mrs. Masham’s brother, to make up matters; but I would not.
+I don’t know, but I would not.  But indeed I was engaged with my old
+friend Rollinson; {182b} you never heard of him before.
+
+4.  I sometimes look a line or two back, and see plaguy mistakes of the
+pen; how do you get over them?  You are puzzled sometimes.  Why, I think
+what I said to Mr. Secretary was right.  Don’t you remember how I used to
+be in pain when Sir William Temple would look cold and out of humour for
+three or four days, and I used to suspect a hundred reasons?  I have
+plucked up my spirit since then, faith; he spoilt a fine gentleman.  I
+dined with my neighbour Vanhomrigh, and MD, poor MD, at home on a loin of
+mutton and half a pint of wine, and the mutton was raw, poor Stella could
+not eat, poor dear rogue, and Dingley was so vexed; but we will dine at
+Stoyte’s to-morrow.  Mr. Harley promised to see me in a day or two, so I
+called this evening; but his son and others were abroad, and he asleep,
+so I came away, and found out Mrs. Vedeau.  She drew out a letter from
+Dingley, and said she would get a friend to receive the money.  I told
+her I would employ Mr. Tooke in it henceforward.  Her husband bought a
+lieutenancy of foot, and is gone to Portugal.  He sold his share of the
+shop to his brother, and put out the money to maintain her, all but what
+bought the commission.  She lodges within two doors of her brother.  She
+told me it made her very melancholy to change her manner of life thus,
+but trade was dead, etc.  She says she will write to you soon.  I design
+to engage Ben Tooke, and then receive the parchment from her.—I gave Mr.
+Dopping a copy of Prior’s verses on Mr. Harley; he sent them yesterday to
+Ireland, so go look for them, for I won’t be at the trouble to transcribe
+them here.  They will be printed in a day or two.  Give my hearty service
+to Stoyte and Catherine: upon my word I love them dearly, and desire you
+will tell them so: pray desire Goody Stoyte not to let Mrs. Walls and
+Mrs. Johnson cheat her of her money at ombre, but assure her from me that
+she is a bungler.  Dine with her to-day, and tell her so, and drink my
+health, and good voyage, and speedy return, and so you’re a rogue.
+
+5.  Morning.  Now let us proceed to examine a saucy letter from one Madam
+MD.—God Almighty bless poor dear Stella, and send her a great many
+birthdays, all happy, and healthy, and wealthy, and with me ever
+together, and never asunder again, unless by chance.  When I find you are
+happy or merry there, it makes me so here, and I can hardly imagine you
+absent when I am reading your letter, or writing to you.  No, faith, you
+are just here upon this little paper, and therefore I see and talk with
+you every evening constantly, and sometimes in the morning, but not
+always in the morning, because that is not so modest to young
+ladies.—What, you would fain palm a letter on me more than you sent: and
+I, like a fool, must look over all yours, to see whether this was really
+N. 12, or more.  [Patrick has this moment brought me letters from the
+Bishop of Clogher and Parvisol; my heart was at my mouth for fear of one
+from MD; what a disgrace would it be to have two of yours to answer
+together!  But, faith, this shall go to-night, for fear; and then come
+when it will, I defy it.]  No, you are not naughty at all, write when you
+are disposed.  And so the Dean told you the story of Mr. Harley from the
+Archbishop; I warrant it never spoiled your supper, or broke off your
+game.  Nor yet, have not you the box?  I wish Mrs. Edgworth had the —.
+But you have it now, I suppose; and is the chocolate good, or has the
+tobacco spoilt it?  Leigh stays till Sterne has done his business, no
+longer; and when that will be, God knows: I befriend him as much as I
+can, but Harley’s accident stops that as well as all things else.  You
+guess, Madam Dingley, that I shall stay a round twelvemonth; as hope
+saved, I would come over, if I could, this minute; but we will talk of
+that by and by. Your affair of Vedeau I have told you of already; now to
+the next, turn over the leaf.  Mrs. Dobbins lies, I have no more
+provision here or in Ireland than I had.  I am pleased that Stella the
+conjurer approves what I did with Mr. Harley; {184} but your generosity
+makes me mad; I know you repine inwardly at Presto’s absence; you think
+he has broken his word of coming in three months, and that this is always
+his trick; and now Stella says she does not see possibly how I can come
+away in haste, and that MD is satisfied, etc.  An’t you a rogue to
+overpower me thus?  I did not expect to find such friends as I have done.
+They may indeed deceive me too.  But there are important reasons [Pox on
+this grease, this candle tallow!] why they should not. {185a}  I have
+been used barbarously by the late Ministry; I am a little piqued in
+honour to let people see I am not to be despised.  The assurances they
+give me, without any scruple or provocation, are such as are usually
+believed in the world; they may come to nothing, but the first
+opportunity that offers, and is neglected, I shall depend no more, but
+come away.  I could say a thousand things on this head, if I were with
+you.  I am thinking why Stella should not go to the Bath, if she be told
+it will do her good.  I will make Parvisol get up fifty pounds, and pay
+it you; and you may be good housewives, and live cheap there some months,
+and return in autumn, or visit London, as you please: pray think of it.
+I writ to Bernage, directed to Curry’s; I wish he had the letter.  I will
+send the bohea tea, if I can.  The Bishop of Kilmore, {185b} I don’t keep
+such company; an old dying fool whom I never was with in my life.  So I
+am no godfather; {185c} all the better.  Pray, Stella, explain those two
+words of yours to me, what you mean by _villian_ and _dainger_; {185d}
+and you, Madam Dingley, what is _christianing_?—Lay your letter _this
+way_, _this way_, and the devil a bit of difference between this way and
+the other way.  No; I will show you, lay them _this way_, _this way_, and
+not _that way_, _that way_. {185e}—You shall have your aprons; and I will
+put all your commissions as they come, in a paper together, and do not
+think I will forget MD’s orders, because they are friends; I will be as
+careful as if they were strangers.  I knew not what to do about this
+Clements. {186a}  Walls will not let me say anything as if Mr. Pratt was
+against him; and now the Bishop of Clogher has written to me in his
+behalf.  This thing does not rightly fall in my way, and that people
+never consider: I always give my good offices where they are proper, and
+that I am judge of; however, I will do what I can.  But, if he has the
+name of a Whig, it will be hard, considering my Lord Anglesea and Hyde
+{186b} are very much otherwise, and you know they have the employment of
+Deputy Treasurer.  If the frolic should take you of going to the Bath, I
+here send you a note on Parvisol; if not, you may tear it, and there’s an
+end.  Farewell.
+
+If you have an imagination that the Bath will do you good, I say again, I
+would have you go; if not, or it be inconvenient, burn this note.  Or, if
+you would go, and not take so much money, take thirty pounds, and I will
+return you twenty from hence.  Do as you please, sirrahs.  I suppose it
+will not be too late for the first season; if it be, I would have you
+resolve however to go the second season, if the doctors say it will do
+you good, and you fancy so.
+
+
+
+LETTER XX.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _April_ 5, 1711.
+
+I PUT my nineteenth in the post-office just now myself, as I came out of
+the City, where I dined.  This rain ruins me in coach-hire; I walked away
+sixpennyworth, and came within a shilling length, and then took a coach,
+{186c} and got a lift back for nothing; and am now busy.
+
+6.  Mr. Secretary desired I would see him this morning; said he had
+several things to say to me, and said not one; and the Duke of Ormond
+sent to desire I would meet him at Mr. Southwell’s by ten this morning
+too, which I did, thinking it was some particular matter.  All the Irish
+in town were there, to consult upon preventing a Bill for laying a duty
+on Irish yarn; so we talked a while, and then all went to the lobby of
+the House of Commons, to solicit our friends, and the Duke came among the
+rest; and Lord Anglesea solicited admirably, and I did wonders.  But,
+after all, the matter was put off till Monday, and then we are to be at
+it again.  I dined with Lord Mountjoy, and looked over him at chess,
+which put me in mind of Stella and Griffyth. {187}  I came home, and that
+dog Patrick was not within; so I fretted, and fretted, and what good did
+that do me?
+
+   And so get you gone to your deans,
+   You couple of queans.
+
+I cannot find rhyme to Walls and Stoyte.—Yes, yes,
+
+   You expect Mrs. Walls,
+   Be dressed when she calls,
+   To carry you to Stoyte,
+   Or else _honi soit_.
+
+Henley told me that the Tories were insup-port-able people, because they
+are for bringing in French claret, and will not _sup-port_.  Mr. Harley
+will hardly get abroad this week or ten days yet.  I reckon, when I send
+away this letter, he will be just got into the House of Commons.  My last
+letter went in twelve days, and so perhaps may this.  No it won’t, for
+those letters that go under a fortnight are answers to one of yours,
+otherwise you must take the days as they happen, some dry, some wet, some
+barren, some fruitful, some merry, some insipid; some, etc.—I will write
+you word exactly the first day I see young gooseberries, and pray observe
+how much later you are.  We have not had five fine days this five weeks,
+but rain or wind.  ’Tis a late spring they say here.—Go to bed, you two
+dear saucy brats, and don’t keep me up all night.
+
+7.  Ford has been at Epsom, to avoid Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  He
+forced me to-day to dine with him; and tells me there are letters from
+Ireland, giving an account of a great indiscretion in the Archbishop of
+Dublin, who applied a story out of Tacitus very reflectingly on Mr.
+Harley, and that twenty people have written of it; I do not believe it
+yet. {188a}  I called this evening to see Mr. Secretary, who has been
+very ill with the gravel and pain in his back, by burgundy and champagne,
+added to the sitting up all night at business; I found him drinking tea
+while the rest were at champagne, and was very glad of it.  I have chid
+him so severely that I hardly knew whether he would take it well: then I
+went and sat an hour with Mrs. St. John, who is growing a great favourite
+of mine; she goes to the Bath on Wednesday, for she is much out of
+health, and has begged me to take care of the Secretary.
+
+8.  I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary St. John; he gave me a letter to
+read, which was from the publisher of the newspaper called the _Postboy_;
+{188b} in it there was a long copy of a letter from Dublin, giving an
+account of what the Whigs said upon Mr. Harley’s being stabbed, and how
+much they abuse him and Mr. Secretary St. John; and at the end there were
+half a dozen lines, telling the story of the Archbishop of Dublin, and
+abusing him horribly; this was to be printed on Tuesday.  I told the
+Secretary I would not suffer that about the Archbishop to be printed, and
+so I crossed it out; and afterwards, to prevent all danger, I made him
+give me the letter, and, upon further thought, would let none of it be
+published: and I sent for the printer, and told him so, and ordered him,
+in the Secretary’s name, to print nothing reflecting on anybody in
+Ireland till he had showed it me.  Thus I have prevented a terrible
+scandal to the Archbishop, by a piece of perfect good fortune.  I will
+let him know it by next post; and pray, if you pick it out, let me know,
+and whether he is thankful for it; but say nothing.
+
+9.  I was to-day at the House of Commons again about their yarn, at Lord
+Anglesea’s desire; but the business is again put off till Monday.  I
+dined with Sir John Stanley, by an assignation I had made with Mr. St.
+John, and George Granville, the Secretary at War; but they let in other
+company, some ladies, and so we were not so easy as I intended.  My head
+is pretty tolerable, but every day I feel some little disorders; I have
+left off snuff since Sunday, finding myself much worse after taking a
+good deal at the Secretary’s.  I would not let him drink one drop of
+champagne or burgundy without water, and in compliment I did so myself.
+He is much better; but when he is well, he is like Stella, and will not
+be governed.  So go to your Stoyte’s, and I’ll go sleep.
+
+10.  I have been visiting Lady Worsley and Mrs. Barton to-day, and dined
+soberly with my friend Lewis.  The Dauphin is dead of an apoplexy; I wish
+he had lived till the finishing of this letter, that it might be news to
+you.  Duncombe, {189} the rich alderman, died to-day, and I hear has left
+the Duke of Argyle, who married his niece, two hundred thousand pounds; I
+hope it is true, for I love that Duke mightily.  I writ this evening to
+the Archbishop of Dublin, about what I told you; and then went to take
+leave of poor Mrs. St. John, who gave me strict charge to take care of
+the Secretary in her absence; said she had none to trust but me; and the
+poor creature’s tears came fresh in her eyes.  Before we took leave, I
+was drawn in by the other ladies and Sir John Stanley to raffle for a
+fan, with a pox; it was four guineas, and we put in seven shillings
+apiece, several raffling for absent people; but I lost, and so missed an
+opportunity of showing my gallantry to Mrs. St. John, whom I designed to
+have presented it to if I had won.  Is Dilly {190a} gone to the Bath?
+His face will whizz in the water; I suppose he will write to us from
+thence, and will take London in his way back.—The rabble will say, “There
+goes a drunken parson”; and, which is worse, they will say true.  Oh, but
+you must know I carried Ford to dine with Mr. St. John last Sunday, that
+he may brag, when he goes back, of dining with a Secretary of State.  The
+Secretary and I went away early, and left him drinking with the rest, and
+he told me that two or three of them were drunk.  They talk of great
+promotions to be made; that Mr. Harley is to be Lord Treasurer, and Lord
+Poulett {190b} Master of the Horse, etc., but they are only conjecture.
+The Speaker is to make Mr. Harley a compliment the first time he comes
+into the House, which I hope will be in a week.  He has had an ill
+surgeon, by the caprice of that puppy Dr. Radcliffe, which has kept him
+back so long; and yesterday he got a cold, but is better to-day.—What! I
+think I am stark mad, to write so much in one day to little saucy MD;
+here is a deal of stuff, indeed! can’t you bid those little dear rogues
+good-night, and let them go sleep, Mr. Presto?  When your tongue runs
+there’s no ho with you, pray.
+
+11.  Again at the lobby (like a lobcock) {190c} of the House of Commons,
+about your Irish yarn, and again put off till Friday; and I and Patrick
+went into the City by water, where I dined, and then I went to the
+auction of Charles Barnard’s books; but the good ones were so monstrous
+dear, I could not reach them, so I laid out one pound seven shillings but
+very indifferently, and came away, and will go there no more.  Henley
+would fain engage me to go with Steele and Rowe, etc., to an invitation
+at Sir William Read’s. {191a}  Surely you have heard of him.  He has been
+a mountebank, and is the Queen’s oculist; he makes admirable punch, and
+treats you in gold vessels.  But I am engaged, and will not go, neither
+indeed am I fond of the jaunt.  So good-night, and go sleep.
+
+12.  I went about noon to the Secretary, who is very ill with a cold, and
+sometimes of the gravel, with his champagne, etc.  I scolded him like a
+dog, and he promises faithfully more care for the future.  To-day my Lord
+Anglesea, and Sir Thomas Hammer, and Prior, and I dined, by appointment,
+with Lieutenant-General Webb. {191b}  My lord and I stayed till ten
+o’clock; but we drank soberly, and I always with water.  There was with
+us one Mr. Campain, {191c} one of the October Club, if you know what that
+is; a Club of country members, who think the Ministers are too backward
+in punishing and turning out the Whigs.  I found my lord and the rest
+thought I had more credit with the Ministry than I pretend to have, and
+would have engaged me to put them upon something that would satisfy their
+desires, and indeed I think they have some reason to complain; however, I
+will not burn my fingers.  I will remember Stella’s chiding, “What had
+you to do with what did not belong to you?” etc.  However, you will give
+me leave to tell the Ministry my thoughts when they ask them, and other
+people’s thoughts sometimes when they do not ask; so thinks Dingley.
+
+13.  I called this morning at Mrs. Vedeau’s again, who has employed a
+friend to get the money; it will be done in a fortnight, and then she
+will deliver me up the parchment.  I went then to see Mr. Harley, who I
+hope will be out in a few days; he was in excellent good humour, only
+complained to me of the neglect of Guiscard’s cure, how glad he would
+have been to have had him live.  Mr. Secretary came in to us, and we were
+very merry till Lord Chamberlain (Duke of Shrewsbury) {192a} came up;
+then Colonel Masham and I went off, after I had been presented to the
+Duke, and that we made two or three silly compliments suitable to the
+occasion.  Then I attended at the House of Commons about your yarn, and
+it is again put off.  Then Ford drew me to dine at a tavern; it happened
+to be the day and the house where the October Club dine.  After we had
+dined, coming down we called to inquire whether our yarn business had
+been over that day, and I sent into the room for Sir George Beaumont.
+{192b}  But I had like to be drawn into a difficulty; for in two minutes
+out comes Mr. Finch, {192c} Lord Guernsey’s son, to let me know that my
+Lord Compton, {192d} the steward of this feast, desired, in the name of
+the Club, that I would do them the honour to dine with them.  I sent my
+excuses, adorned with about thirty compliments, and got off as fast as I
+could.  It would have been a most improper thing for me to dine there,
+considering my friendship with the Ministry.  The Club is about a hundred
+and fifty, and near eighty of them were then going to dinner at two long
+tables in a great ground-room.  At evening I went to the auction of
+Barnard’s books, and laid out three pounds three shillings, but I’ll go
+there no more; and so I said once before, but now I’ll keep to it.  I
+forgot to tell that when I dined at Webb’s with Lord Anglesea, I spoke to
+him of Clements, as one recommended for a very honest gentleman and good
+officer, and hoped he would keep him.  He said he had not thought
+otherwise, and that he should certainly hold his place while he continued
+to deserve it; and I could not find there had been any intentions from
+his lordship against him.  But I tell you, hunny, the impropriety of
+this.  A great man will do a favour for me, or for my friend; but why
+should he do it for my friend’s friend?  Recommendations should stop
+before they come to that.  Let any friend of mine recommend one of his to
+me for a thing in my power, I will do it for his sake; but to speak to
+another for my friend’s friend is against all reason; and I desire you
+will understand this, and discourage any such troubles given me.—I hope
+this may do some good to Clements, it can do him no hurt; and I find by
+Mrs. Pratt, {193} that her husband is his friend; and the Bishop of
+Clogher says Clements’s danger is not from Pratt, but from some other
+enemies, that think him a Whig.
+
+14.  I was so busy this morning that I did not go out till late.  I writ
+to-day to the Duke of Argyle, but said nothing of Bernage, who, I
+believe, will not see him till Spain is conquered, and that is, not at
+all.  I was to-day at Lord Shelburne’s, and spoke to Mrs. Pratt again
+about Clements; her husband himself wants some good offices, and I have
+done him very good ones lately, and told Mrs. Pratt I expected her
+husband should stand by Clements in return.  Sir Andrew Fountaine and I
+dined with neighbour Vanhomrigh; he is mighty ill of an asthma, and
+apprehends himself in much danger; ’tis his own fault, that will rake and
+drink, when he is but just crawled out of his grave.  I will send this
+letter just now, because I think my half-year is out for my lodging; and,
+if you please, I would be glad it were paid off, and some deal boxes made
+for my books, and kept in some safe place.  I would give something for
+their keeping: but I doubt that lodging will not serve me when I come
+back; I would have a larger place for books, and a stable, if possible.
+So pray be so kind to pay the lodging, and all accounts about it; and get
+Mrs. Brent to put up my things.  I would have no books put in that trunk
+where my papers are.  If you do not think of going to the Bath, I here
+send you a bill on Parvisol for twenty pounds Irish, out of which you
+will pay for the lodging, and score the rest to me.  Do as you please,
+and love poor Presto, that loves MD better than his life a thousand
+millions of times.  Farewell, MD, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXI.
+
+
+                                                 LONDON, _April_ 14, 1711.
+
+REMEMBER, sirrahs, that there are but nine days between the dates of my
+two former letters.  I sent away my twentieth this moment, and now am
+writing on like a fish, as if nothing was done.  But there was a cause
+for my hasting away the last, for fear it should not come time enough
+before a new quarter began.  I told you where I dined to-day; but forgot
+to tell you what I believe, that Mr. Harley will be Lord Treasurer in a
+short time, and other great removes and promotions made.  This is my
+thought, etc.
+
+15.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, and he is grown pretty well.
+I dined with him to-day, and drank some of that wine which the Duke of
+Tuscany used to send to Sir William Temple: {194} he always sends some to
+the chief Ministers.  I liked it mightily, but he does not; and he
+ordered his butler to send me a chest of it to-morrow.  Would to God MD
+had it!  The Queen is well again, and was at chapel to-day, etc.
+
+16.  I went with Ford into the City to-day, and dined with Stratford, and
+drank Tokay, and then we went to the auction; but I did not lay out above
+twelve shillings.  My head is a little out of order to-night, though no
+formal fit.  My Lord Keeper has sent to invite me to dinner to-morrow,
+and you’ll dine better with the Dean; and God bless you.  I forgot to
+tell you that yesterday was sent me a _Narrative_ printed, with all the
+circumstances of Mr. Harley’s stabbing.  I had not time to do it myself;
+so I sent my hints to the author of the _Atalantis_, {195a} and she has
+cooked it into a sixpenny pamphlet, in her own style, only the first page
+is left as I was beginning it.  But I was afraid of disobliging Mr.
+Harley or Mr. St. John in one critical point about it, and so would not
+do it myself.  It is worth your reading, for the circumstances are all
+true.  My chest of Florence was sent me this morning, and cost me seven
+and sixpence to two servants.  I would give two guineas you had it, etc.
+
+17.  I was so out of order with my head this morning, that I was going to
+send my excuses to my Lord Keeper; but however I got up at eleven, and
+walked there after two, and stayed till eight.  There was Sir Thomas
+Mansel, Prior, George Granville, and Mr. Cæsar, {195b} and we were very
+merry.  My head is still wrong, but I have had no formal fit, only I
+totter a little.  I have left off snuff altogether.  I have a noble roll
+of tobacco for grating, very good.  Shall I send it to MD, if she likes
+that sort?  My Lord Keeper and our this day’s company are to dine on
+Saturday with George Granville, and to-morrow I dine with Lord Anglesea.
+
+18.  Did you ever see such a blundering goosecap as Presto?  I saw the
+number 21 at top, and so I went on as if it were the day of the month,
+whereas this is but Wednesday the 18th.  How shall I do to blot and alter
+them?  I have made a shift to do it behind, but it is a great botch.  I
+dined with Lord Anglesea to-day, but did not go to the House of Commons
+about the yarn; my head was not well enough.  I know not what is the
+matter; it has never been thus before: two days together giddy from
+morning till night, but not with any violence or pain; and I totter a
+little, but can make shift to walk.  I doubt I must fall to my pills
+again: I think of going into the country a little way.  I tell you what
+you must do henceforward: you must enclose your letter in a fair
+half-sheet of paper, and direct the outside “To Erasmus Lewis, Esquire,
+at my Lord Dartmouth’s office at Whitehall”: for I never go to the
+Coffee-house, and they will grudge to take in my letters.  I forgot to
+tell you that your mother was to see me this morning, and brought me a
+flask of sweet-water for a present, admirable for my head; but I shall
+not smell to it.  She is going to Sheen, with Lady Giffard: she would
+fain send your papers over to you, or give them to me.  Say what you
+would have done, and it shall be done; because I love Stella, and she is
+a good daughter, they say, and so is Dingley.
+
+19.  This morning General Webb was to give me a visit: he goes with a
+crutch and stick, yet was forced to come up two pair of stairs.  I
+promised to dine with him, but afterwards sent my excuses, and dined
+privately in my friend Lewis’s lodgings at Whitehall, with whom I had
+much business to talk of, relating to the public and myself.  Little
+Harrison the Tatler goes to-morrow to the secretaryship I got him at the
+Hague, and Mr. St. John has made him a present of fifty guineas to bear
+his charges.  An’t I a good friend?  Why are not you a young fellow, that
+I might prefer you?  I had a letter from Bernage from Kinsale: he tells
+me his commission for captain-lieutenant was ready for him at his
+arrival: so there are two jackanapeses I have done with.  My head is
+something better this evening, though not well.
+
+20.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, whose packets were just come
+in, and among them a letter from Lord Peterborow to me: he writes so
+well, I have no mind to answer him, and so kind, that I must answer him.
+The Emperor’s {196} death must, I think, cause great alterations in
+Europe, and, I believe, will hasten a peace.  We reckon our King Charles
+will be chosen Emperor, and the Duke of Savoy set up for Spain; but I
+believe he will make nothing of it.  Dr. Freind and I dined in the City
+at a printer’s, and it has cost me two shillings in coach-hire, and a
+great deal more this week and month, which has been almost all rain, with
+now and then sunshine, and is the truest April that I have known these
+many years.  The lime-trees in the Park are all out in leaves, though not
+large leaves yet.  Wise people are going into the country; but many think
+the Parliament can hardly be up these six weeks.  Mr. Harley was with the
+Queen on Tuesday.  I believe certainly he will be Lord Treasurer: I have
+not seen him this week.
+
+21.  Morning.  Lord Keeper, and I, and Prior, and Sir Thomas Mansel, have
+appointed to dine this day with George Granville.  My head, I thank God,
+is better; but to be giddyish three or four days together mortified me.
+I take no snuff, and I will be very regular in eating little and the
+gentlest meats.  How does poor Stella just now, with her deans and her
+Stoytes?  Do they give you health for the money you lose at ombre,
+sirrah?  What say you to that?  Poor Dingley frets to see Stella lose
+that four and elevenpence, the other night.  Let us rise.  Morrow,
+sirrahs.  I will rise, spite of your little teeth; good-morrow.—At night.
+O, faith, you are little dear saucyboxes.  I was just going in the
+morning to tell you that I began to want a letter from MD, and in four
+minutes after Mr. Ford sends me one that he had picked up at St. James’s
+Coffee-house; for I go to no coffee-house at all.  And, faith, I was glad
+at heart to see it, and to see Stella so brisk.  O Lord, what pretending?
+Well, but I will not answer it yet; I’ll keep it for t’other side.  Well,
+we dined to-day according to appointment: Lord Keeper went away at near
+eight, I at eight, and I believe the rest will be fairly fuddled; for
+young Harcourt, {197} Lord Keeper’s son, began to prattle before I came
+away.  It will not do with Prior’s lean carcass.  I drink little, miss my
+glass often, put water in my wine, and go away before the rest, which I
+take to be a good receipt for sobriety.  Let us put it into rhyme, and so
+make a proverb—
+
+   Drink little at a time;
+   Put water with your wine;
+   Miss your glass when you can;
+   And go off the first man.
+
+God be thanked, I am much better than I was, though something of a
+totterer.  I ate but little to-day, and of the gentlest meat.  I refused
+ham and pigeons, pease-soup, stewed beef, cold salmon, because they were
+too strong.  I take no snuff at all, but some herb snuff prescribed by
+Dr. Radcliffe.
+
+   Go to your deans,
+   You couple of queans.
+
+I believe I said that already.  What care I? what cares Presto?
+
+22.  Morning.  I must rise and go to the Secretary’s.  Mr. Harley has
+been out of town this week to refresh himself before he comes into
+Parliament.  Oh, but I must rise, so there is no more to be said; and so
+morrow, sirrahs both.—Night.  I dined to-day with the Secretary, who has
+engaged me for every Sunday; and I was an hour with him this morning deep
+in politics, where I told him the objections of the October Club, and he
+answered all except one, that no inquiries are made into past
+mismanagement.  But indeed I believe they are not yet able to make any:
+the late Ministry were too cunning in their rogueries, and fenced
+themselves with an Act of general pardon.  I believe Mr. Harley must be
+Lord Treasurer; yet he makes one difficulty which is hard to answer: he
+must be made a lord, and his estate is not large enough, and he is too
+generous to make it larger; and if the Ministry should change soon by any
+accident, he will be left in the suds.  Another difficulty is, that if he
+be made a peer, they will want him prodigiously in the House of Commons,
+of which he is the great mover, and after him the Secretary, and hardly
+any else of weight.  Two shillings more to-day for coach and chair.  I
+shall be ruined.
+
+23.  So you expect an answer to your letter, do you so?  Yes, yes, you
+shall have an answer, you shall, young women.  I made a good pun on
+Saturday to my Lord Keeper.  After dinner we had coarse Doiley napkins,
+{199a} fringed at each end, upon the table, to drink with: my Lord Keeper
+spread one of them between him and Mr. Prior; I told him I was glad to
+see there was such a fringeship [friendship] between Mr. Prior and his
+lordship.  Prior swore it was the worst he ever heard: I said I thought
+so too; but at the same time I thought it was most like one of Stella’s
+that ever I heard.  I dined to-day with Lord Mountjoy, and this evening
+saw the Venetian Ambassador {199b} coming from his first public audience.
+His coach was the most monstrous, huge, fine, rich gilt thing that ever I
+saw.  I loitered this evening, and came home late.
+
+24.  I was this morning to visit the Duchess of Ormond, {199c} who has
+long desired it, or threatened she would not let me visit her daughters.
+I sat an hour with her, and we were good company, when in came the
+Countess of Bellamont, {199d} with a pox.  I went out, and we did not
+know one another; yet hearing me named, she asked, “What, is that Dr.
+Swift?” said she and I were very well acquainted, and fell a railing at
+me without mercy, as a lady told me that was there; yet I never was but
+once in the company of that drab of a Countess.  Sir Andrew Fountaine and
+I dined with my neighbour Van.  I design in two days, if possible, to go
+lodge at Chelsea for the air, and put myself under a necessity of walking
+to and from London every day.  I writ this post to the Bishop of Clogher
+a long politic letter, to entertain him.  I am to buy statues and harnese
+{200a} for them, with a vengeance.  I have packed and sealed up MD’s
+twelve letters against I go to Chelsea.  I have put the last commissions
+of MD in my account-book; but if there be any former ones, I have forgot
+them.  I have Dingley’s pocket-book down, and Stella’s green silk apron,
+and the pound of tea; pray send me word if you have any other, and down
+they shall go.  I will not answer your letter yet, saucy boxes.  You are
+with the Dean just now, Madam Stella, losing your money.  Why do not you
+name what number you have received?  You say you have received my
+letters, but do not tell the number.
+
+25.  I was this day dining in the City with very insignificant, low, and
+scurvy company.  I had a letter from the Archbishop of Dublin, with a
+long denial of the report raised on him, {200b} which yet has been since
+assured to me from those who say they have it from the first hand; but I
+cannot believe them.  I will show it to the Secretary to-morrow.  I will
+not answer yours till I get to Chelsea.
+
+26.  Chelsea.  I have sent two boxes of lumber to my friend Darteneuf’s
+house, and my chest of Florence and other things to Mrs. Vanhomrigh,
+where I dined to-day.  I was this morning with the Secretary, and showed
+him the Archbishop’s letter, and convinced him of his Grace’s innocence,
+and I will do the same to Mr. Harley.  I got here in the stage-coach with
+Patrick and my portmanteau for sixpence, and pay six shillings a week for
+one silly room with confounded coarse sheets. {200c}  We have had such a
+horrible deal of rain, that there is no walking to London, and I must go
+as I came until it mends; and besides the whelp has taken my lodging as
+far from London as this town could afford, at least half a mile farther
+than he need; but I must be content.  The best is, I lodge just over
+against Dr. Atterbury’s house, and yet perhaps I shall not like the place
+the better for that.  Well, I will stay till to-morrow before I answer
+your letter; and you must suppose me always writing at Chelsea from
+henceforward, till I alter, and say London.  This letter goes on
+Saturday, which will be just a fortnight; so go and cheat Goody Stoyte,
+etc.
+
+27.  Do you know that I fear my whole chest of Florence is turned sour,
+at least the two first flasks were so, and hardly drinkable.  How plaguy
+unfortunate am I! and the Secretary’s own is the best I ever tasted; and
+I must not tell him, but be as thankful as if it were the best in
+Christendom.  I went to town in the sixpenny stage to-day; and hearing
+Mr. Harley was not at home, I went to see him, because I knew by the
+message of his lying porter that he was at home.  He was very well, and
+just going out, but made me promise to dine with him; and betwixt that
+and indeed strolling about, I lost four pound seven shillings at
+play—with a——a—a—bookseller, and got but about half a dozen books. {201a}
+I will buy no more books now, that’s certain.  Well, I dined at Mr.
+Harley’s, came away at six, shifted my gown, cassock, and periwig, and
+walked hither to Chelsea, as I always design to do when it is fair.  I am
+heartily sorry to find my friend the Secretary stand a little ticklish
+with the rest of the Ministry; there have been one or two disobliging
+things that have happened, too long to tell: and t’other day in
+Parliament, upon a debate of about thirty-five millions that have not
+been duly accounted for, Mr. Secretary, in his warmth of speech, and zeal
+for his friend Mr. Brydges, {201b} on whom part of the blame was falling,
+said he did not know that either Mr. Brydges or the late Ministry were at
+all to blame in this matter; which was very desperately spoken, and
+giving up the whole cause: for the chief quarrel against the late
+Ministry was the ill management of the treasure, and was more than all
+the rest together.  I had heard of this matter: but Mr. Foley {202a}
+beginning to discourse to-day at table, without naming Mr. St. John, I
+turned to Mr. Harley, and said if the late Ministry were not to blame in
+that article, he (Mr. Harley) ought to lose his head for putting the
+Queen upon changing them.  He made it a jest; but by some words dropped,
+I easily saw that they take things ill of Mr. St. John; and by some hints
+given me from another hand that I deal with, I am afraid the Secretary
+will not stand long.  This is the fate of Courts.  I will, if I meet Mr.
+St. John alone on Sunday, tell him my opinion, and beg him to set himself
+right, else the consequences may be very bad; for I see not how they can
+well want him neither, and he would make a troublesome enemy.  But enough
+of politics.
+
+28.  Morning.  I forgot to tell you that Mr. Harley asked me yesterday
+how he came to disoblige the Archbishop of Dublin.  Upon which (having
+not his letter about me) I told him what the Bishop had written to me on
+that subject, {202b} and desired I might read him the letter some other
+time.  But after all, from what I have heard from other hands, I am
+afraid the Archbishop is a little guilty.  Here is one Brent Spencer, a
+brother of Mr. Proby’s, {202c} who affirms it, and says he has leave to
+do so from Charles Dering, {202d} who heard the words; and that
+Ingoldsby, {202e} abused the Archbishop, etc.  Well, but now for your
+saucy letter: I have no room to answer it; O yes, enough on t’other side.
+Are you no sicker?  Stella jeers Presto for not coming over by Christmas;
+but indeed Stella does not jeer, but reproach, poor poor Presto.  And how
+can I come away and the First-Fruits not finished?  I am of opinion the
+Duke of Ormond will do nothing in them before he goes, which will be in a
+fortnight, they say; and then they must fall to me to be done in his
+absence.  No, indeed, I have nothing to print: you know they have printed
+the _Miscellanies_ {203a} already.  Are they on your side yet?  If you
+have my snuff box, I will have your strong box.  Hi, does Stella take
+snuff again? or is it only because it is a fine box?  Not the _Meddle_,
+but the _Medley_, {203b} you fool.  Yes, yes, a wretched thing, because
+it is against you Tories: now I think it very fine, and the _Examiner_ a
+wretched thing.—Twist your mouth, sirrah.  Guiscard, and what you will
+read in the _Narrative_, {203c} I ordered to be written, and nothing
+else.  The _Spectator_ is written by Steele, with Addison’s help: it is
+often very pretty.  Yesterday it was made of a noble hint I gave him long
+ago for his _Tatlers_, about an Indian supposed to write his Travels into
+England. {203d}  I repent he ever had it.  I intended to have written a
+book on that subject.  I believe he has spent it all in one paper, and
+all the under-hints there are mine too; but I never see him or Addison.
+The Queen is well, but I fear will be no long liver; for I am told she
+has sometimes the gout in her bowels (I hate the word _bowels_).  My ears
+have been, these three months past, much better than any time these two
+years; but now they begin to be a little out of order again.  My head is
+better, though not right; but I trust to air and walking.  You have got
+my letter, but what number?  I suppose 18.  Well, my shin has been well
+this month.  No, Mrs. Westley {203e} came away without her husband’s
+knowledge, while she was in the country: she has written to me for some
+tea.  They lie; Mr. Harley’s wound was very terrible: he had convulsions,
+and very narrowly escaped.  The bruise was nine times worse than the
+wound: he is weak still.  Well, Brooks married; I know all that.  I am
+sorry for Mrs. Walls’s eye: I hope ’tis better.  O yes, you are great
+walkers: but I have heard them say, “Much talkers, little walkers”: and I
+believe I may apply the old proverb to you—
+
+    If you talked no more than you walked,
+    Those that think you wits would be baulked.
+
+Yes, Stella shall have a large printed Bible: I have put it down among my
+commissions for MD.  I am glad to hear you have taken the fancy of
+intending to read the Bible.  Pox take the box; is not it come yet?  This
+is trusting to your young fellows, young women; ’tis your fault: I
+thought you had such power with Sterne that he would fly over Mount Atlas
+to serve you.  You say you are not splenetic; but if you be, faith, you
+will break poor Presto’s—I will not say the rest; but I vow to God, if I
+could decently come over now, I would, and leave all schemes of politics
+and ambition for ever.  I have not the opportunities here of preserving
+my health by riding, etc., that I have in Ireland; and the want of health
+is a great cooler of making one’s court.  You guess right about my being
+bit with a direction from Walls, and the letter from MD: I believe I
+described it in one of my last.  This goes to-night; and I must now rise
+and walk to town, and walk back in the evening.  God Almighty bless and
+preserve poor MD.  Farewell.
+
+O, faith, don’t think, saucy noses, that I’ll fill this third side: I
+can’t stay a letter above a fortnight: it must go then; and you would
+rather see a short one like this, than want it a week longer.
+
+My humble service to the Dean, and Mrs. Walls, and good, kind, hearty
+Mrs. Stoyte, and honest Catherine.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXII.
+
+
+                                                CHELSEA, _April_ 28, 1711.
+
+AT night.  I say at night, because I finished my twenty-first this
+morning here, and put it into the post-office my own self, like a good
+boy.  I think I am a little before you now, young women: I am writing my
+twenty-second, and have received your thirteenth.  I got to town between
+twelve and one, and put on my new gown and periwig, and dined with Lord
+Abercorn, where I had not been since the marriage of his son Lord
+Peasley, {205a} who has got ten thousand pounds with a wife.  I am now a
+country gentleman.  I walked home as I went, and am a little weary, and
+am got into bed: I hope in God the air and exercise will do me a little
+good.  I have been inquiring about statues for Mrs. Ashe: I made Lady
+Abercorn {205b} go with me; and will send them word next post to Clogher.
+I hate to buy for her: I am sure she will maunder.  I am going to study.
+
+29.  I had a charming walk to and from town to-day: I washed, shaved and
+all, and changed gown and periwig, by half an hour after nine, and went
+to the Secretary, who told me how he had differed with his friends in
+Parliament: I apprehended this division, and told him a great deal of it.
+I went to Court, and there several mentioned it to me as what they much
+disliked.  I dined with the Secretary; and we proposed doing some
+business of importance in the afternoon, which he broke to me first, and
+said how he and Mr. Harley were convinced of the necessity of it; yet he
+suffered one of his under-secretaries to come upon us after dinner, who
+stayed till six, and so nothing was done: and what care I? he shall send
+to me the next time, and ask twice.  To-morrow I go to the election at
+Westminster School, where lads are chosen for the University: they say it
+is a sight, and a great trial of wits.  Our Expedition Fleet is but just
+sailed: I believe it will come to nothing.  Mr. Secretary frets at their
+tediousness, but hopes great things from it, though he owns four or five
+princes are in the secret; and, for that reason, I fear it is no secret
+to France.  There are eight regiments; and the Admiral {206a} is your
+Walker’s brother the midwife.
+
+30.  Morn.  I am here in a pretty pickle: it rains hard; and the cunning
+natives of Chelsea have outwitted me, and taken up all the three stage
+coaches.  What shall I do?  I must go to town: this is your fault.  I
+cannot walk: I will borrow a coat.  This is the blind side of my lodging
+out of town; I must expect such inconveniences as these.  Faith, I’ll
+walk in the rain.  Morrow.—At night.  I got a gentleman’s chaise by
+chance, and so went to town for a shilling, and lie this night in town.
+I was at the election of lads at Westminster to-day, and a very silly
+thing it is; but they say there will be fine doings to-morrow.  I dined
+with Dr. Freind, {206b} the second master of the school, with a dozen
+parsons and others: Prior would make me stay.  Mr. Harley is to hear the
+election to-morrow; and we are all to dine with tickets, and hear fine
+speeches.  ’Tis terrible rainy weather again: I lie at a friend’s in the
+City.
+
+May 1.  I wish you a merry May Day, and a thousand more.  I was baulked
+at Westminster; I came too late: I heard no speeches nor verses.  They
+would not let me in to their dining-place for want of a ticket; and I
+would not send in for one, because Mr. Harley excused his coming, and
+Atterbury was not there; and I cared not for the rest: and so my friend
+Lewis and I dined with Kitt Musgrave, {206c} if you know such a man: and,
+the weather mending, I walked gravely home this evening; and so I design
+to walk and walk till I am well: I fancy myself a little better already.
+How does poor Stella?  Dingley is well enough.  Go, get you gone, naughty
+girl, you are well enough.  O dear MD, contrive to have some share of the
+country this spring: go to Finglas, or Donnybrook, or Clogher, or
+Killala, or Lowth.  Have you got your box yet?  Yes, yes.  Do not write
+to me again till this letter goes: I must make haste, that I may write
+two for one.  Go to the Bath: I hope you are now at the Bath, if you had
+a mind to go; or go to Wexford: do something for your living.  Have you
+given up my lodging, according to order?  I have had just now a
+compliment from Dean Atterbury’s lady, {207a} to command the garden and
+library, and whatever the house affords.  I lodge just over against them;
+but the Dean is in town with his Convocation: so I have my Dean and
+Prolocutor as well as you, young women, though he has not so good wine,
+nor so much meat.
+
+2.  A fine day, but begins to grow a little warm; and that makes your
+little fat Presto sweat in the forehead.  Pray, are not the fine buns
+sold here in our town; was it not _Rrrrrrrrrare Chelsea buns_? {207b}  I
+bought one to-day in my walk; it cost me a penny; it was stale, and I did
+not like it, as the man said, etc.  Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined at
+Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and had a flask of my Florence, which lies in their
+cellar; and so I came home gravely, and saw nobody of consequence to-day.
+I am very easy here, nobody plaguing me in a morning; and Patrick saves
+many a score lies.  I sent over to Mrs. Atterbury to know whether I might
+wait on her; but she is gone a visiting: we have exchanged some
+compliments, but I have not seen her yet.  We have no news in our town.
+
+3.  I did not go to town to-day, it was so terrible rainy; nor have I
+stirred out of my room till eight this evening, when I crossed the way to
+see Mrs. Atterbury, and thank her for her civilities.  She would needs
+send me some veal, and small beer, and ale, to-day at dinner; and I have
+lived a scurvy, dull, splenetic day, for want of MD: I often thought how
+happy I could have been, had it rained eight thousand times more, if MD
+had been with a body.  My Lord Rochester {208a} is dead this morning;
+they say at one o’clock; and I hear he died suddenly.  To-morrow I shall
+know more.  He is a great loss to us: I cannot think who will succeed him
+as Lord President.  I have been writing a long letter to Lord Peterborow,
+and am dull.
+
+4.  I dined to-day at Lord Shelburne’s, where Lady Kerry {208b} made me a
+present of four India handkerchiefs, which I have a mind to keep for
+little MD, only that I had rather, etc.  I have been a mighty
+handkerchief-monger, and have bought abundance of snuff ones since I have
+left off taking snuff.  And I am resolved, when I come over, MD shall be
+acquainted with Lady Kerry: we have struck up a mighty friendship; and
+she has much better sense than any other lady of your country.  We are
+almost in love with one another: but she is most egregiously ugly; but
+perfectly well-bred, and governable as I please.  I am resolved, when I
+come, to keep no company but MD: you know I kept my resolution last time;
+and, except Mr. Addison, conversed with none but you and your club of
+deans and Stoytes.  ’Tis three weeks, young women, since I had a letter
+from you; and yet, methinks, I would not have another for five pounds
+till this is gone; and yet I send every day to the Coffee-house, and I
+would fain have a letter, and not have a letter: and I do not know what,
+nor I do not know how, and this goes on very slow; it is a week to-morrow
+since I began it.  I am a poor country gentleman, and do not know how the
+world passes.  Do you know that every syllable I write I hold my lips
+just for all the world as if I were talking in our own little language to
+MD?  Faith, I am very silly; but I cannot help it for my life.  I got
+home early to-night.  My solicitors, that used to ply me every morning,
+knew not where to find me; and I am so happy not to hear “Patrick,
+Patrick,” called a hundred times every morning.  But I looked backward,
+and find I have said this before.  What care I?  Go to the Dean, and
+roast the oranges.
+
+5.  I dined to-day with my friend Lewis, and we were deep in politics how
+to save the present Ministry; for I am afraid of Mr. Secretary, as I
+believe I told you.  I went in the evening to see Mr. Harley; and, upon
+my word, I was in perfect joy.  Mr. Secretary was just going out of the
+door; but I made him come back, and there was the old Saturday Club, Lord
+Keeper, Lord Rivers, Mr. Secretary, Mr. Harley, and I; the first time
+since his stabbing.  Mr. Secretary went away; but I stayed till nine, and
+made Mr. Harley show me his breast, and tell all the story; and I showed
+him the Archbishop of Dublin’s letter, and defended him effectually.  We
+were all in mighty good humour.  Lord Keeper and I left them together,
+and I walked here after nine two miles, and I found a parson drunk
+fighting with a seaman, and Patrick and I were so wise to part them, but
+the seaman followed him to Chelsea, cursing at him, and the parson
+slipped into a house, and I know no more.  It mortified me to see a man
+in my coat so overtaken.  A pretty scene for one that just came from
+sitting with the Prime Ministers!  I had no money in my pocket, and so
+could not be robbed.  However, nothing but Mr. Harley shall make me take
+such a journey again.  We don’t yet know who will be President in Lord
+Rochester’s room.  I measured, and found that the penknife would have
+killed Mr. Harley if it had gone but half the breadth of my thumb-nail
+lower, so near was he to death.  I was so curious as to ask him what were
+his thoughts while they were carrying him home in the chair.  He said he
+concluded himself a dead man.  He will not allow that Guiscard gave him
+the second stab; though my Lord Keeper, who is blind, and I that was not
+there, are positive in it.  He wears a plaster still as broad as half a
+crown.  Smoke how wide the lines are, but, faith, I don’t do it on
+purpose: but I have changed my side in this new Chelsea bed, and I do not
+know how, methinks, but it is so unfit, and so awkward, never saw the
+like.
+
+6.  You must remember to enclose your letters in a fair paper, and direct
+the outside thus: “To Erasmus Lewis, Esq.; at my Lord Dartmouth’s office
+at Whitehall.”  I said so before, but it may miscarry, you know, yet I
+think none of my letters did ever miscarry; faith, I think never one;
+among all the privateers and the storms.  O, faith, my letters are too
+good to be lost.  MD’s letters may tarry, but never miscarry, as the old
+woman used to say.  And indeed, how should they miscarry, when they never
+come before their time?  It was a terrible rainy day; yet I made a shift
+to steal fair weather overhead enough to go and come in.  I was early
+with the Secretary, and dined with him afterwards.  In the morning I
+began to chide him, and tell him my fears of his proceedings.  But Arthur
+Moore {210a} came up and relieved him.  But I forgot, for you never heard
+of Arthur Moore.  But when I get Mr. Harley alone, I will know the
+bottom.  You will have Dr. Raymond over before this letter, and what care
+you?
+
+7.  I hope and believe my walks every day do me good.  I was busy at
+home, and set out late this morning, and dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, at
+whose lodgings I always change my gown and periwig.  I visited this
+afternoon, and among others, poor Biddy Floyd, {210b} who is very red,
+but I believe won’t be much marked.  As I was coming home, I met Sir
+George Beaumont {210c} in the Pall Mall, who would needs walk with me as
+far as Buckingham House.  I was telling him of my head; he said he had
+been ill of the same disorder, and by all means forbid me bohea tea,
+which, he said, always gave it him; and that Dr. Radcliffe said it was
+very bad.  Now I had observed the same thing, and have left it off this
+month, having found myself ill after it several times; and I mention it
+that Stella may consider it for her own poor little head: a pound lies
+ready packed up and directed for Mrs. Walls, to be sent by the first
+convenience.  Mr. Secretary told me yesterday that Mr. Harley would this
+week be Lord Treasurer and a peer; so I expect it every day; yet perhaps
+it may not be till Parliament is up, which will be in a fortnight.
+
+8.  I was to-day with the Duke of Ormond, and recommended to him the care
+of poor Joe Beaumont, who promises me to do him all justice and favour,
+and give him encouragement; and desired I would give a memorial to Ned
+Southwell about it, which I will, and so tell Joe when you see him,
+though he knows it already by a letter I writ to Mr. Warburton. {211a}
+It was bloody hot walking to-day.  I dined in the City, and went and came
+by water; and it rained so this evening again, that I thought I should
+hardly be able to get a dry hour to walk home in.  I will send to-morrow
+to the Coffee-house for a letter from MD; but I would not have one
+methinks till this is gone, as it shall on Saturday.  I visited the
+Duchess of Ormond this morning; she does not go over with the Duke.  I
+spoke to her to get a lad touched for the evil, {211b} the son of a
+grocer in Capel Street, one Bell; the ladies have bought sugar and plums
+of him.  Mrs. Mary used to go there often.  This is Patrick’s account;
+and the poor fellow has been here some months with his boy.  But the
+Queen has not been able to touch, and it now grows so warm, I fear she
+will not at all.  Go, go, go to the Dean’s, and let him carry you to
+Donnybrook, and cut asparagus.  Has Parvisol sent you any this year?  I
+cannot sleep in the beginnings of the nights, the heat or something
+hinders me, and I am drowsy in the mornings.
+
+9.  Dr. Freind came this morning to visit Atterbury’s lady and children
+as physician, and persuaded me to go with him to town in his chariot.  He
+told me he had been an hour before with Sir Cholmley Dering, Charles
+Dering’s nephew, and head of that family in Kent, for which he is Knight
+of the shire.  He said he left him dying of a pistol-shot quite through
+the body, by one Mr. Thornhill. {212a}  They fought at sword and pistol
+this morning in Tuttle Fields, {212b} their pistols so near that the
+muzzles touched.  Thornhill discharged first; and Dering, having received
+the shot, discharged his pistol as he was falling, so it went into the
+air.  The story of this quarrel is long.  Thornhill had lost seven teeth
+by a kick in the mouth from Dering, who had first knocked him down; this
+was above a fortnight ago.  Dering was next week to be married to a fine
+young lady.  This makes a noise here, but you will not value it.  Well,
+Mr. Harley, Lord Keeper, and one or two more, are to be made lords
+immediately; their patents are now passing, and I read the preamble to
+Mr. Harley’s, full of his praises.  Lewis and I dined with Ford: I found
+the wine; two flasks of my Florence, and two bottles of six that Dr.
+Raymond sent me of French wine; he sent it to me to drink with Sir Robert
+Raymond and Mr. Harley’s brother, {212c} whom I had introduced him to;
+but they never could find time to come; and now I have left the town, and
+it is too late.  Raymond will think it a cheat.  What care I, sirrah?
+
+10.  Pshaw, pshaw.  Patrick brought me four letters to-day: from Dilly at
+Bath; Joe; Parvisol; and what was the fourth, who can tell?  Stand away,
+who’ll guess?  Who can it be?  You old man with a stick, can you tell who
+the fourth is from?  Iss, an please your honour, it is from one Madam MD,
+Number Fourteen.  Well; but I can’t send this away now, because it was
+here, and I was in town; but it shall go on Saturday, and this is
+Thursday night, and it will be time enough for Wexford.  Take my method:
+I write here to Parvisol to lend Stella twenty pounds, and to take her
+note promissory to pay it in half a year, etc.  You shall see, and if you
+want more, let me know afterwards; and be sure my money shall be always
+paid constantly too.  Have you been good or ill housewives, pray?
+
+11.  Joe has written me to get him a collector’s place, nothing less; he
+says all the world knows of my great intimacy with Mr. Harley, and that
+the smallest word to him will do.  This is the constant cant of puppies
+who are at a distance, and strangers to Courts and Ministers.  My answer
+is this, which pray send: that I am ready to serve Joe as far as I can;
+that I have spoken to the Duke of Ormond about his money, as I writ to
+Warburton; that for the particular he mentions, it is a work of time,
+which I cannot think of at present; but, if accidents and opportunities
+should happen hereafter, I would not be wanting; that I know best how far
+my credit goes; that he is at a distance, and cannot judge; that I would
+be glad to do him good, and if fortune throws an opportunity in my way I
+shall not be wanting.  This is my answer, which you may send or read to
+him.  Pray contrive that Parvisol may not run away with my two hundred
+pounds; but get Burton’s {213} note, and let the money be returned me by
+bill.  Don’t laugh, for I will be suspicious.  Teach Parvisol to enclose,
+and direct the outside to Mr. Lewis.  I will answer your letter in my
+next, only what I take notice of here excepted.  I forgot to tell you
+that at the Court of Requests to-day I could not find a dinner I liked,
+and it grew late, and I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, etc.
+
+12.  Morning.  I will finish this letter before I go to town, because I
+shall be busy, and have neither time nor place there.  Farewell, etc.
+etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXIII.
+
+
+                                                  CHELSEA, _May_ 12, 1711.
+
+I SENT you my twenty-second this afternoon in town.  I dined with Mr.
+Harley and the old Club, Lord Rivers, Lord Keeper, and Mr. Secretary.
+They rallied me last week, and said I must have Mr. St. John’s leave; so
+I writ to him yesterday, that foreseeing I should never dine again with
+Sir Simon Harcourt, Knight, and Robert Harley, Esq., I was resolved to do
+it to-day.  The jest is, that before Saturday {214} next we expect they
+will be lords; for Mr. Harley’s patent is drawing, to be Earl of Oxford.
+Mr. Secretary and I came away at seven, and he brought me to our town’s
+end in his coach; so I lost my walk.  St. John read my letter to the
+company, which was all raillery, and passed purely.
+
+13.  It rained all last night and this morning as heavy as lead; but I
+just got fair weather to walk to town before church.  The roads are all
+over in deep puddle.  The hay of our town is almost fit to be mowed.  I
+went to Court after church (as I always do on Sundays), and then dined
+with Mr. Secretary, who has engaged me for every Sunday; and poor MD
+dined at home upon a bit of veal and a pint of wine.  Is it not plaguy
+insipid to tell you every day where I dine? yet now I have got into the
+way of it, I cannot forbear it neither.  Indeed, Mr. Presto, you had
+better go answer MD’s letter, N. 14.  I will answer it when I please, Mr.
+Doctor.  What is that you say?  The Court was very full this morning,
+expecting Mr. Harley would be declared Earl of Oxford and have the
+Treasurer’s staff.  Mr. Harley never comes to Court at all; somebody
+there asked me the reason.  “Why,” said I, “the Lord of Oxford knows.”
+He always goes to the Queen by the back stairs.  I was told for certain,
+you jackanapes, Lord Santry {215a} was dead, Captain Cammock {215b}
+assured me so; and now he’s alive again, they say; but that shan’t do: he
+shall be dead to me as long as he lives.  Dick Tighe {215c} and I meet,
+and never stir our hats.  I am resolved to mistake him for Witherington,
+the little nasty lawyer that came up to me so sternly at the Castle the
+day I left Ireland.  I’ll ask the gentleman I saw walking with him how
+long Witherington has been in town.
+
+14.  I went to town to-day by water.  The hail quite discouraged me from
+walking, and there is no shade in the greatest part of the way.  I took
+the first boat, and had a footman my companion; then I went again by
+water, and dined in the City with a printer, to whom I carried a pamphlet
+in manuscript, that Mr. Secretary gave me.  The printer sent it to the
+Secretary for his approbation, and he desired me to look it over, which I
+did, and found it a very scurvy piece.  The reason I tell you so, is
+because it was done by your parson Slap, Scrap, Flap (what d’ye call
+him), Trapp, {215d} your Chancellor’s chaplain.  ’Tis called _A Character
+of the Present Set of Whigs_, and is going to be printed, and no doubt
+the author will take care to produce it in Ireland.  Dr. Freind was with
+me, and pulled out a twopenny pamphlet just published, called _The State
+of Wit_, {216a} giving a character of all the papers that have come out
+of late.  The author seems to be a Whig, yet he speaks very highly of a
+paper called the _Examiner_, and says the supposed author of it is Dr.
+Swift.  But above all things he praises the _Tatlers_ and _Spectators_;
+and I believe Steele and Addison were privy to the printing of it.  Thus
+is one treated by these impudent dogs.  And that villain Curll {216b} has
+scraped up some trash, and calls it Dr. Swift’s _Miscellanies_, with the
+name at large: and I can get no satisfaction of him.  Nay, Mr. Harley
+told me he had read it, and only laughed at me before Lord Keeper and the
+rest.  Since I came home, I have been sitting with the Prolocutor, Dean
+Atterbury, who is my neighbour over the way, but generally keeps in town
+with his Convocation.  ’Tis late, etc.
+
+15.  My walk to town to-day was after ten, and prodigiously hot.  I dined
+with Lord Shelburne, and have desired Mrs. Pratt, who lodges there, to
+carry over Mrs. Walls’s tea; I hope she will do it, and they talk of
+going in a fortnight.  My way is this: I leave my best gown and periwig
+at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, then walk up the Pall Mall, through the Park, out
+at Buckingham House, and so to Chelsea a little beyond the church: I set
+out about sunset, and get here in something less than an hour; it is two
+good miles, and just five thousand seven hundred and forty-eight steps;
+so there is four miles a day walking, without reckoning what I walk while
+I stay in town.  When I pass the Mall in the evening, it is prodigious to
+see the number of ladies walking there; and I always cry shame at the
+ladies of Ireland, who never walk at all, as if their legs were of no
+use, but to be laid aside.  I have been now almost three weeks here, and
+I thank God, am much better in my head, if it does but continue.  I tell
+you what, if I was with you, when we went to Stoyte at Donnybrook, we
+would only take a coach to the hither end of Stephen’s Green, and from
+thence go every step on foot, yes, faith, every step; it would do DD
+{217a} good as well as Presto. {217b}  Everybody tells me I look better
+already; for, faith, I looked sadly, that is certain.  My breakfast is
+milk porridge: I do not love it; faith, I hate it, but it is cheap and
+wholesome; and I hate to be obliged to either of those qualities for
+anything. {217c}
+
+16.  I wonder why Presto will be so tedious in answering MD’s letters;
+because he would keep the best to the last, I suppose.  Well, Presto must
+be humoured, it must be as he will have it, or there will be an old to
+do. {217d}  Dead with heat; are not you very hot?  My walks make my
+forehead sweat rarely; sometimes my morning journey is by water, as it
+was to-day with one Parson Richardson, {217e} who came to see me, on his
+going to Ireland; and with him I send Mrs. Walls’s tea, and three books
+{217f} I got from the Lords of the Treasury for the College.  I dined
+with Lord Shelburne to-day; Lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt are going likewise
+for Ireland.—Lord! I forgot, I dined with Mr. Prior to-day, at his house,
+with Dean Atterbury and others; and came home pretty late, and I think
+I’m in a fuzz, and don’t know what I say, never saw the like.
+
+17.  Sterne came here by water to see me this morning, and I went back
+with him to his boat.  He tells me that Mrs. Edgworth {217g} married a
+fellow in her journey to Chester; so I believe she little thought of
+anybody’s box but her own.  I desired Sterne to give me directions where
+to get the box in Chester, which he says he will to-morrow; and I will
+write to Richardson to get it up there as he goes by, and whip it over.
+It is directed to Mrs. Curry: you must caution her of it, and desire her
+to send it you when it comes.  Sterne says Jemmy Leigh loves London
+mightily; that makes him stay so long, I believe, and not Sterne’s
+business, which Mr. Harley’s accident has put much backward.  We expect
+now every day that he will be Earl of Oxford and Lord Treasurer.  His
+patent is passing; but, they say, Lord Keeper’s not yet; at least his
+son, young Harcourt, told me so t’other day.  I dined to-day privately
+with my friend Lewis at his lodgings at Whitehall.  T’other day at
+Whitehall I met a lady of my acquaintance, whom I had not seen before
+since I came to England; we were mighty glad to see each other, and she
+has engaged me to visit her, as I design to do.  It is one Mrs. Colledge:
+she has lodgings at Whitehall, having been seamstress to King William,
+worth three hundred a year.  Her father was a fanatic joiner, {218a}
+hanged for treason in Shaftesbury’s plot.  This noble person and I were
+brought acquainted, some years ago, by Lady Berkeley. {218b}  I love good
+creditable acquaintance: I love to be the worst of the company: I am not
+of those that say, “For want of company, welcome trumpery.”  I was this
+evening with Lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt at Vauxhall, to hear the
+nightingales; but they are almost past singing.
+
+18.  I was hunting the Secretary to-day in vain about some business, and
+dined with Colonel Crowe, late Governor of Barbados, {218c} and your
+friend Sterne was the third: he is very kind to Sterne, and helps him in
+his business, which lies asleep till Mr. Harley is Lord Treasurer,
+because nothing of moment is now done in the Treasury, the change being
+expected every day.  I sat with Dean Atterbury till one o’clock after I
+came home; so ’tis late, etc.
+
+19.  Do you know that about our town we are mowing already and making
+hay, and it smells so sweet as we walk through the flowery meads; but the
+hay-making nymphs are perfect drabs, nothing so clean and pretty as
+farther in the country.  There is a mighty increase of dirty wenches in
+straw hats since I knew London.  I stayed at home till five o’clock, and
+dined with Dean Atterbury; then went by water to Mr. Harley’s, where the
+Saturday Club was met, with the addition of the Duke of Shrewsbury.  I
+whispered Lord Rivers that I did not like to see a stranger among us; and
+the rogue told it aloud: but Mr. Secretary said the Duke writ to have
+leave; so I appeared satisfied, and so we laughed.  Mr. Secretary told me
+the Duke of Buckingham {219} had been talking to him much about me, and
+desired my acquaintance.  I answered it could not be, for he had not made
+sufficient advances.  Then the Duke of Shrewsbury said he thought that
+Duke was not used to make advances.  I said I could not help that; for I
+always expected advances in proportion to men’s quality, and more from a
+duke than any other man.  The Duke replied that he did not mean anything
+of his quality; which was handsomely said enough; for he meant his pride:
+and I have invented a notion to believe that nobody is proud.  At ten all
+the company went away; and from ten to twelve Mr. Harley and I sat
+together, where we talked through a great deal of matters I had a mind to
+settle with him; and then walked in a fine moonshine night to Chelsea,
+where I got by one.  Lord Rivers conjured me not to walk so late; but I
+would, because I had no other way; but I had no money to lose.
+
+20.  By what the Lord Keeper told me last night, I find he will not be
+made a peer so soon; but Mr. Harley’s patent for Earl of Oxford is now
+drawing, and will be done in three days.  We made him own it, which he
+did scurvily, and then talked of it like the rest.  Mr. Secretary had too
+much company with him to-day; so I came away soon after dinner.  I give
+no man liberty to swear or talk b—dy, and I found some of them were in
+constraint, so I left them to themselves.  I wish you a merry
+Whitsuntide, and pray tell me how you pass away your time; but, faith,
+you are going to Wexford, and I fear this letter is too late; it shall go
+on Thursday, and sooner it cannot, I have so much business to hinder me
+answering yours.  Where must I direct in your absence?  Do you quit your
+lodgings?
+
+21.  Going to town this morning, I met in the Pall Mall a clergyman of
+Ireland, whom I love very well and was glad to see, and with him a little
+jackanapes, of Ireland too, who married Nanny Swift, Uncle Adam’s {220a}
+daughter, one Perry; perhaps you may have heard of him.  His wife has
+sent him here, to get a place from Lowndes; {220b} because my uncle and
+Lowndes married two sisters, and Lowndes is a great man here in the
+Treasury; but by good luck I have no acquaintance with him: however, he
+expected I should be his friend to Lowndes, and one word of mine, etc.,
+the old cant.  But I will not go two yards to help him.  I dined with
+Mrs. Vanhomrigh, where I keep my best gown and periwig, to put on when I
+come to town and be a spark.
+
+22.  I dined to-day in the City, and coming home this evening, I met Sir
+Thomas Mansel and Mr. Lewis in the Park.  Lewis whispered me that Mr.
+Harley’s patent for the Earl of Oxford was passed in Mr. Secretary St.
+John’s office; so to-morrow or next day, I suppose, he will be declared
+Earl of Oxford, and have the staff. {220c}  This man has grown by
+persecutions, turnings out, and stabbing.  What waiting, and crowding,
+and bowing will be at his levee! yet, if human nature be capable of so
+much constancy, I should believe he will be the same man still, bating
+the necessary forms of grandeur he must keep up.  ’Tis late, sirrahs, and
+I’ll go sleep.
+
+23.  Morning.  I sat up late last night, and waked late to-day; but will
+now answer your letter in bed before I go to town, and I will send it
+to-morrow; for perhaps you mayn’t go so soon to Wexford.—No, you are not
+out in your number; the last was Number 14, and so I told you twice or
+thrice; will you never be satisfied?  What shall we do for poor Stella?
+Go to Wexford, for God’s sake: I wish you were to walk there by three
+miles a day, with a good lodging at every mile’s end.  Walking has done
+me so much good, that I cannot but prescribe it often to poor Stella.
+Parvisol has sent me a bill for fifty pounds, which I am sorry for,
+having not written to him for it, only mentioned it two months ago; but I
+hope he will be able to pay you what I have drawn upon him for: he never
+sent me any sum before, but one bill of twenty pounds half a year ago.
+You are welcome as my blood to every farthing I have in the world; and
+all that grieves me is, I am not richer, for MD’s sake, as hope saved.
+{221}  I suppose you give up your lodgings when you go to Wexford; yet
+that will be inconvenient too: yet I wish again you were under a
+necessity of rambling the country until Michaelmas, faith.  No, let them
+keep the shelves, with a pox; yet they are exacting people about those
+four weeks; or Mrs. Brent may have the shelves, if she please.  I am
+obliged to your Dean for his kind offer of lending me money.  Will that
+be enough to say?  A hundred people would lend me money, or to any man
+who has not the reputation of a squanderer.  O, faith, I should be glad
+to be in the same kingdom with MD, however, although you are at Wexford.
+But I am kept here by a most capricious fate, which I would break
+through, if I could do it with decency or honour.—To return without some
+mark of distinction would look extremely little; and I would likewise
+gladly be somewhat richer than I am.  I will say no more, but beg you to
+be easy till Fortune take her course, and to believe that MD’s felicity
+is the great end I aim at in all my pursuits.  And so let us talk no more
+on this subject, which makes me melancholy, and that I would fain divert.
+Believe me, no man breathing at present has less share of happiness in
+life than I: I do not say I am unhappy at all, but that everything here
+is tasteless to me for want of being as I would be.  And so, a short
+sigh, and no more of this.  Well, come and let’s see what’s next, young
+women.  Pox take Mrs. Edgworth and Sterne!  I will take some methods
+about that box.  What orders would you have me give about the picture?
+Can’t you do with it as if it were your own?  No, I hope Manley will keep
+his place; for I hear nothing of Sir Thomas Frankland’s losing his.  Send
+nothing under cover to Mr. Addison, but “To Erasmus Lewis, Esq.; at my
+Lord Dartmouth’s office at Whitehall.”  Direct your outside so.—Poor dear
+Stella, don’t write in the dark, nor in the light neither, but dictate to
+Dingley; she is a naughty, healthy girl, and may drudge for both.  Are
+you good company together? and don’t you quarrel too often?  Pray love
+one another, and kiss one another just now, as Dingley is reading this;
+for you quarrelled this morning just after Mrs. Marget {222} had poured
+water on Stella’s head: I heard the little bird say so.  Well, I have
+answered everything in your letter that required it, and yet the second
+side is not full.  I’ll come home at night, and say more; and to-morrow
+this goes for certain.  Go, get you gone to your own chambers, and let
+Presto rise like a modest gentleman, and walk to town.  I fancy I begin
+to sweat less in the forehead by constant walking than I used to do; but
+then I shall be so sunburnt, the ladies will not like me.  Come, let me
+rise, sirrahs.  Morrow.—At night.  I dined with Ford to-day at his
+lodgings, and I found wine out of my own cellar, some of my own chest of
+the great Duke’s wine: it begins to turn.  They say wine with you in
+Ireland is half a crown a bottle.  ’Tis as Stella says; nothing that once
+grows dear in Ireland ever grows cheap again, except corn, with a pox, to
+ruin the parson.  I had a letter to-day from the Archbishop of Dublin,
+giving me further thanks about vindicating him to Mr. Harley and Mr. St.
+John, and telling me a long story about your Mayor’s election, {223}
+wherein I find he has had a finger, and given way to further talk about
+him; but we know nothing of it here yet.  This walking to and fro, and
+dressing myself, takes up so much of my time that I cannot go among
+company so much as formerly; yet what must a body do?  I thank God I yet
+continue much better since I left the town; I know not how long it may
+last.  I am sure it has done me some good for the present.  I do not
+totter as I did, but walk firm as a cock, only once or twice for a
+minute, I do not know how; but it went off, and I never followed it.
+Does Dingley read my hand as well as ever? do you, sirrah?  Poor Stella
+must not read Presto’s ugly small hand.
+
+    Preserve your eyes,
+    If you be wise.
+
+Your friend Walls’s tea will go in a day or two towards Chester by one
+Parson Richardson.  My humble service to her, and to good Mrs. Stoyte,
+and Catherine; and pray walk while you continue in Dublin.  I expect your
+next but one will be from Wexford.  God bless dearest MD.
+
+24.  Morning.  Mr. Secretary has sent his groom hither, to invite me to
+dinner to-day, etc.  God Almighty for ever bless and preserve you both,
+and give you health, etc.  Amen.  Farewell, etc.
+
+Do not I often say the same thing two or three times in the same letter,
+sirrah?
+
+Great wits, they say, have but short memories; that’s good vile
+conversation.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXIV.
+
+
+                                                  CHELSEA, _May_ 24, 1711.
+
+MORNING.  Once in my life the number of my letters and of the day of the
+month is the same; that’s lucky, boys; that’s a sign that things will
+meet, and that we shall make a figure together.  What, will you still
+have the impudence to say London, England, because I say Dublin, Ireland?
+Is there no difference between London and Dublin, saucyboxes?  I have
+sealed up my letter, and am going to town.  Morrow, sirrahs.—At night.  I
+dined with the Secretary to-day; we sat down between five and six.  Mr.
+Harley’s patent passed this morning: he is now Earl of Oxford, Earl
+Mortimer, and Lord Harley of Wigmore Castle.  My letter was sealed, or I
+would have told you this yesterday; but the public news may tell it you.
+The Queen, for all her favour, has kept a rod {224} for him in her closet
+this week; I suppose he will take it from her, though, in a day or two.
+At eight o’clock this evening it rained prodigiously, as it did from
+five; however, I set out, and in half-way the rain lessened, and I got
+home, but tolerably wet; and this is the first wet walk I have had in a
+month’s time that I am here but, however, I got to bed, after a short
+visit to Atterbury.
+
+25.  It rained this morning, and I went to town by water; and Ford and I
+dined with Mr. Lewis by appointment.  I ordered Patrick to bring my gown
+and periwig to Mr. Lewis, because I designed to go to see Lord Oxford,
+and so I told the dog; but he never came, though I stayed an hour longer
+than I appointed; so I went in my old gown, and sat with him two hours,
+but could not talk over some business I had with him; so he has desired
+me to dine with him on Sunday, and I must disappoint the Secretary.  My
+lord set me down at a coffee-house, where I waited for the Dean of
+Carlisle’s chariot to bring me to Chelsea; for it has rained prodigiously
+all this afternoon.  The Dean did not come himself, but sent me his
+chariot, which has cost me two shillings to the coachman; and so I am got
+home, and Lord knows what is become of Patrick.  I think I must send him
+over to you; for he is an intolerable rascal.  If I had come without a
+gown, he would have served me so, though my life and preferment should
+have lain upon it: and I am making a livery for him will cost me four
+pounds; but I will order the tailor to-morrow to stop till further
+orders.  My Lord Oxford can’t yet abide to be called “my lord”; and when
+I called him “my lord,” he called me “Dr. Thomas Swift,” {225a} which he
+always does when he has a mind to tease me.  By a second hand, he
+proposed my being his chaplain, which I by a second hand excused; but we
+had no talk of it to-day: but I will be no man’s chaplain alive.  But I
+must go and be busy.
+
+26.  I never saw Patrick till this morning, and that only once, for I
+dressed myself without him; and when I went to town he was out of the
+way.  I immediately sent for the tailor, and ordered him to stop his hand
+in Patrick’s clothes till further orders.  Oh, if it were in Ireland, I
+should have turned him off ten times ago; and it is no regard to him, but
+myself, that has made me keep him so long.  Now I am afraid to give the
+rogue his clothes.  What shall I do?  I wish MD were here to entreat for
+him, just here at the bed’s side.  Lady Ashburnham {225b} has been
+engaging me this long time to dine with her, and I set to-day apart for
+it; and whatever was the mistake, she sent me word she was at dinner and
+undressed, but would be glad to see me in the afternoon: so I dined with
+Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and would not go to see her at all, in a huff.  My fine
+Florence is turning sour with a vengeance, and I have not drunk half of
+it.  As I was coming home to-night, Sir Thomas Mansel and Tom Harley
+{225c} met me in the Park, and made me walk with them till nine, like
+unreasonable whelps; so I got not here till ten: but it was a fine
+evening, and the foot-path clean enough already after this hard rain.
+
+27.  Going this morning to town, I saw two old lame fellows, walking to a
+brandy-shop, and when they got to the door, stood a long time
+complimenting who should go in first.  Though this be no jest to tell, it
+was an admirable one to see.  I dined to-day with my Lord Oxford and the
+ladies, the new Countess, and Lady Betty, {226a} who has been these three
+days a lady born.  My lord left us at seven, and I had no time to speak
+to him about some affairs; but he promises in a day or two we shall dine
+alone; which is mighty likely, considering we expect every moment that
+the Queen will give him the staff, and then he will be so crowded he will
+be good for nothing: for aught I know he may have it to-night at Council.
+
+28.  I had a petition sent me t’other day from one Stephen Gernon,
+setting forth that he formerly lived with Harry Tenison, {226b} who gave
+him an employment of gauger, and that he was turned out after Harry’s
+death, and came for England, and is now starving, or, as he expresses it,
+_that the staff of life has been of late a stranger to his appetite_.
+To-day the poor fellow called, and I knew him very well, a young slender
+fellow with freckles in his face: you must remember him; he waited at
+table as a better sort of servant.  I gave him a crown, and promised to
+do what I could to help him to a service, which I did for Harry Tenison’s
+memory.  It was bloody hot walking to-day, and I was so lazy I dined
+where my new gown was, at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and came back like a fool,
+and the Dean of Carlisle has sat with me till eleven.  Lord Oxford has
+not the staff yet.
+
+29.  I was this morning in town by ten, though it was shaving-day, and
+went to the Secretary about some affairs, then visited the Duke and
+Duchess of Ormond; but the latter was dressing to go out, and I could not
+see her.  My Lord Oxford had the staff given him this morning; so now I
+must call him Lord Oxford no more, but Lord Treasurer: I hope he will
+stick there: this is twice he has changed his name this week; and I heard
+to-day in the City (where I dined) that he will very soon have the
+Garter.—Pr’ythee, do not you observe how strangely I have changed my
+company and manner of living?  I never go to a coffee-house; you hear no
+more of Addison, Steele, Henley, Lady Lucy, Mrs. Finch, {227a} Lord
+Somers, Lord Halifax, etc.  I think I have altered for the better.  Did I
+tell you the Archbishop of Dublin has writ me a long letter of a squabble
+in your town about choosing a Mayor, and that he apprehended some censure
+for the share he had in it? {227b}  I have not heard anything of it here;
+but I shall not be always able to defend him.  We hear your Bishop
+Hickman is dead; {227c} but nobody here will do anything for me in
+Ireland; so they may die as fast or slow as they please.—Well, you are
+constant to your deans, and your Stoyte, and your Walls.  Walls will have
+her tea soon; Parson Richardson is either going or gone to Ireland, and
+has it with him.  I hear Mr. Lewis has two letters for me: I could not
+call for them to-day, but will to-morrow; and perhaps one of them may be
+from our little MD, who knows, man? who can tell?  Many a more unlikely
+thing has happened.—Pshaw, I write so plaguy little, I can hardly see it
+myself.  _Write bigger_, _sirrah_ {227d} Presto.  No, but I won’t.  Oh,
+you are a saucy rogue, Mr. Presto, you are so impudent.  Come, dear
+rogues, let Presto go to sleep; I have been with the Dean, and ’tis near
+twelve.
+
+30.  I am so hot and lazy after my morning’s walk, that I loitered at
+Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, where my best gown and periwig are, and out of mere
+listlessness dine there very often; so I did to-day; but I got little
+MD’s letter, N. 15 (you see, sirrahs, I remember to tell the number),
+from Mr. Lewis, and I read it in a closet they lend me at Mrs. Van’s; and
+I find Stella is a saucy rogue and a great writer, and can write finely
+still when her hand is in, and her pen good.  When I came here to-night,
+I had a mighty mind to go swim after I was cool, for my lodging is just
+by the river; and I went down with only my nightgown and slippers on at
+eleven, but came up again; however, one of these nights I will venture.
+
+31.  I was so hot this morning with my walk, that I resolve to do so no
+more during this violent burning weather.  It is comical that now we
+happen to have such heat to ripen the fruit there has been the greatest
+blast that was ever known, and almost all the fruit is despaired of.  I
+dined with Lord Shelburne: Lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt are going to
+Ireland.  I went this evening to Lord Treasurer, and sat about two hours
+with him in mixed company; he left us, and went to Court, and carried two
+staves with him, so I suppose we shall have a new Lord Steward or
+Comptroller to-morrow; I smoked that State secret out by that accident.
+I will not answer your letter yet, sirrahs; no I won’t, madam.
+
+June 1.  I wish you a merry month of June.  I dined again with the Vans
+and Sir Andrew Fountaine.  I always give them a flask of my Florence,
+which now begins to spoil, but it is near an end.  I went this afternoon
+to Mrs. Vedeau’s, and brought away Madam Dingley’s parchment and letter
+of attorney.  Mrs. Vedeau tells me she has sent the bill a fortnight ago.
+I will give the parchment to Ben Tooke, and you shall send him a letter
+of attorney at your leisure, enclosed to Mr. Presto.  Yes, I now think
+your mackerel is full as good as ours, which I did not think formerly.  I
+was bit about two staves, for there is no new officer made to-day.  This
+letter will find you still in Dublin, I suppose, or at Donnybrook, or
+losing your money at Walls’ (how does she do?).
+
+2.  I missed this day by a blunder and dining in the City. {229a}
+
+3.  No boats on Sunday, never: so I was forced to walk, and so hot by the
+time I got to Ford’s lodging that I was quite spent; I think the weather
+is mad.  I could not go to church.  I dined with the Secretary as usual,
+and old Colonel Graham {229b} that lived at Bagshot Heath, and they said
+it was Colonel Graham’s house.  Pshaw, I remember it very well, when I
+used to go for a walk to London from Moor Park.  What, I warrant you do
+not remember the Golden Farmer {229c} neither, figgarkick soley? {229d}
+
+4.  When must we answer this letter, this N. 15 of our little MD?  Heat
+and laziness, and Sir Andrew Fountaine, made me dine to-day again at Mrs.
+Van’s; and, in short, this weather is unsupportable: how is it with you?
+Lady Betty Butler and Lady Ashburnham sat with me two or three hours this
+evening in my closet at Mrs. Van’s.  They are very good girls; and if
+Lady Betty went to Ireland, you should let her be acquainted with you.
+How does Dingley do this hot weather?  Stella, I think, never complains
+of it; she loves hot weather.  There has not been a drop of rain since
+Friday se’ennight.  Yes, you do love hot weather, naughty Stella, you do
+so; and Presto can’t abide it.  Be a good girl then, and I will love you;
+and love one another, and don’t be quarrelling girls.
+
+5.  I dined in the City to-day, and went from hence early to town, and
+visited the Duke of Ormond and Mr. Secretary.  They say my Lord Treasurer
+has a dead warrant in his pocket; they mean a list of those who are to be
+turned out of employment; and we every day now expect those changes.  I
+passed by the Treasury to-day, and saw vast crowds waiting to give Lord
+Treasurer petitions as he passes by.  He is now at the top of power and
+favour: he keeps no levees yet.  I am cruel thirsty this hot weather.—I
+am just this minute going to swim.  I take Patrick down with me, to hold
+my nightgown, shirt, and slippers, and borrow a napkin of my landlady for
+a cap.  So farewell till I come up; but there is no danger, don’t be
+frighted.—I have been swimming this half-hour and more; and when I was
+coming out I dived, to make my head and all through wet, like a cold
+bath; but, as I dived, the napkin fell off and is lost, and I have that
+to pay for.  O, faith, the great stones were so sharp, I could hardly set
+my feet on them as I came out.  It was pure and warm.  I got to bed, and
+will now go sleep.
+
+6.  Morning.  This letter shall go to-morrow; so I will answer yours when
+I come home to-night.  I feel no hurt from last night’s swimming.  I lie
+with nothing but the sheet over me, and my feet quite bare.  I must rise
+and go to town before the tide is against me.  Morrow, sirrahs; dear
+sirrahs, morrow.—At night.  I never felt so hot a day as this since I was
+born.  I dined with Lady Betty Germaine, and there was the young Earl of
+Berkeley {230a} and his fine lady.  I never saw her before, nor think her
+near so handsome as she passes for.—After dinner, Mr. Bertue {230b} would
+not let me put ice in my wine, but said my Lord Dorchester {230c} got the
+bloody flux with it, and that it was the worst thing in the world.  Thus
+are we plagued, thus are we plagued; yet I have done it five or six times
+this summer, and was but the drier and the hotter for it.  Nothing makes
+me so excessively peevish as hot weather.  Lady Berkeley after dinner
+clapped my hat on another lady’s head, and she in roguery put it upon the
+rails.  I minded them not; but in two minutes they called me to the
+window, and Lady Carteret {231a} showed me my hat out of her window five
+doors off, where I was forced to walk to it, and pay her and old Lady
+Weymouth {231b} a visit, with some more beldames.  Then I went and drank
+coffee, and made one or two puns, with Lord Pembroke, {231c} and designed
+to go to Lord Treasurer; but it was too late, and beside I was half
+broiled, and broiled without butter; for I never sweat after dinner, if I
+drink any wine.  Then I sat an hour with Lady Betty Butler at tea, and
+everything made me hotter and drier.  Then I walked home, and was here by
+ten, so miserably hot, that I was in as perfect a passion as ever I was
+in my life at the greatest affront or provocation.  Then I sat an hour,
+till I was quite dry and cool enough to go swim; which I did, but with so
+much vexation that I think I have given it over: for I was every moment
+disturbed by boats, rot them; and that puppy Patrick, standing ashore,
+would let them come within a yard or two, and then call sneakingly to
+them.  The only comfort I proposed here in hot weather is gone; for there
+is no jesting with those boats after it is dark: I had none last night.
+I dived to dip my head, and held my cap on with both my hands, for fear
+of losing it.  Pox take the boats!  Amen.  ’Tis near twelve, and so I’ll
+answer your letter (it strikes twelve now) to-morrow morning.
+
+7.  Morning.  Well, now let us answer MD’s letter, N. 15, 15, 15, 15.
+Now have I told you the number?  15, 15; there, impudence, to call names
+in the beginning of your letter, before you say, How do you do, Mr.
+Presto?  There is your breeding!  Where is your manners, sirrah, to a
+gentleman?  Get you gone, you couple of jades.—No, I never sit up late
+now; but this abominable hot weather will force me to eat or drink
+something that will do me hurt.  I do venture to eat a few
+strawberries.—Why then, do you know in Ireland that Mr. St. John talked
+so in Parliament? {232a}  Your Whigs are plaguily bit; for he is entirely
+for their being all out.—And are you as vicious in snuff as ever?  I
+believe, as you say, it does neither hurt nor good; but I have left it
+off, and when anybody offers me their box, I take about a tenth part of
+what I used to do, and then just smell to it, and privately fling the
+rest away.  I keep to my tobacco still, {232b} as you say; but even much
+less of that than formerly, only mornings and evenings, and very seldom
+in the day.—As for Joe, {232c} I have recommended his case heartily to my
+Lord Lieutenant; and, by his direction, given a memorial of it to Mr.
+Southwell, to whom I have recommended it likewise.  I can do no more, if
+he were my brother.  His business will be to apply himself to Southwell.
+And you must desire Raymond, if Price of Galway comes to town, to desire
+him to wait on Mr. Southwell, as recommended by me for one of the Duke’s
+chaplains, which was all I could do for him; and he must be presented to
+the Duke, and make his court, and ply about, and find out some vacancy,
+and solicit early for it.  The bustle about your Mayor I had before, as I
+told you, from the Archbishop of Dublin.  Was Raymond not come till May
+18?  So he says fine things of me?  Certainly he lies.  I am sure I used
+him indifferently enough; and we never once dined together, or walked, or
+were in any third place; only he came sometimes to my lodgings, and even
+there was oftener denied than admitted.—What an odd bill is that you sent
+of Raymond’s!  A bill upon one Murry in Chester, which depends entirely
+not only upon Raymond’s honesty, but his discretion; and in money matters
+he is the last man I would depend on.  Why should Sir Alexander Cairnes
+{232d} in London pay me a bill, drawn by God knows who, upon Murry in
+Chester?  I was at Cairnes’s, and they can do no such thing.  I went
+among some friends, who are merchants, and I find the bill must be sent
+to Murry, accepted by him, and then returned back, and then Cairnes may
+accept or refuse it as he pleases.  Accordingly I gave Sir Thomas
+Frankland the bill, who has sent it to Chester, and ordered the
+postmaster there to get it accepted, and then send it back, and in a day
+or two I shall have an answer; and therefore this letter must stay a day
+or two longer than I intended, and see what answer I get.  Raymond should
+have written to Murry at the same time, to desire Sir Alexander Cairnes
+to have answered such a bill, if it come.  But Cairnes’s clerks (himself
+was not at home) said they had received no notice of it, and could do
+nothing; and advised me to send to Murry.—I have been six weeks to-day at
+Chelsea, and you know it but just now.  And so Dean — thinks I write the
+_Medley_.  Pox of his judgment!  It is equal to his honesty.  Then you
+han’t seen the _Miscellany_ yet? {233a}  Why, ’tis a four-shilling book:
+has nobody carried it over?—No, I believe Manley {233b} will not lose his
+place; for his friend {233c} in England is so far from being out that he
+has taken a new patent since the Post Office Act; and his brother Jack
+Manley {233d} here takes his part firmly; and I have often spoken to
+Southwell in his behalf, and he seems very well inclined to him.  But the
+Irish folks here in general are horribly violent against him.  Besides,
+he must consider he could not send Stella wine if he were put out.  And
+so he is very kind, and sends you a dozen bottles of wine _at a time_,
+and you win eight shillings _at a time_; and how much do you lose?  No,
+no, never one syllable about that, I warrant you.—Why, this same Stella
+is so unmerciful a writer, she has hardly left any room for Dingley.  If
+you have such summer there as here, sure the Wexford waters are good by
+this time.  I forgot what weather we had May 6th; go look in my journal.
+We had terrible rain the 24th and 25th, and never a drop since.  Yes,
+yes, I remember Berested’s bridge; the coach sosses up and down as one
+goes that way, just as at Hockley-in-the-Hole. {234a}  I never impute any
+illness or health I have to good or ill weather, but to want of exercise,
+or ill air, or something I have eaten, or hard study, or sitting up; and
+so I fence against those as well as I can: but who a deuce can help the
+weather?  Will Seymour, {234b} the General, was excessively hot with the
+sun shining full upon him; so he turns to the sun, and says, “Harkee,
+friend, you had better go and ripen cucumbers than plague me at this
+rate,” etc.  Another time, fretting at the heat, a gentleman by said it
+was such weather as pleased God: Seymour said, “Perhaps it may; but I am
+sure it pleases nobody else.”  Why, Madam Dingley, the First-Fruits are
+done.  Southwell told me they went to inquire about them, and Lord
+Treasurer said they were done, and had been done long ago.  And I’ll tell
+you a secret you must not mention, that the Duke of Ormond is ordered to
+take notice of them in his speech in your Parliament: and I desire you
+will take care to say on occasion that my Lord Treasurer Harley did it
+many months ago, before the Duke was Lord Lieutenant.  And yet I cannot
+possibly come over yet: so get you gone to Wexford, and make Stella well.
+Yes, yes, I take care not to walk late; I never did but once, and there
+are five hundred people on the way as I walk. Tisdall is a puppy, and I
+will excuse him the half-hour he would talk with me.  As for the
+_Examiner_, I have heard a whisper that after that of this day, {234c}
+which tells us what this Parliament has done, you will hardly find them
+so good.  I prophesy they will be trash for the future; and methinks in
+this day’s _Examiner_ the author talks doubtfully, as if he would write
+no more. {235a}  Observe whether the change be discovered in Dublin, only
+for your own curiosity, that’s all.  Make a mouth there.  Mrs. Vedeau’s
+business I have answered, and I hope the bill is not lost.  Morrow.  ’Tis
+stewing hot, but I must rise and go to town between fire and water.
+Morrow, sirrahs both, morrow.—At night.  I dined to-day with Colonel
+Crowe, Governor of Jamaica, and your friend Sterne.  I presented Sterne
+to my Lord Treasurer’s brother, {235b} and gave him his case, and engaged
+him in his favour.  At dinner there fell the swingingest long shower, and
+the most grateful to me, that ever I saw: it thundered fifty times at
+least, and the air is so cool that a body is able to live; and I walked
+home to-night with comfort, and without dirt.  I went this evening to
+Lord Treasurer, and sat with him two hours, and we were in very good
+humour, and he abused me, and called me Dr. Thomas Swift fifty times: I
+have told you he does that when he has mind to make me mad. {235c}  Sir
+Thomas Frankland gave me to-day a letter from Murry, accepting my bill;
+so all is well: only, by a letter from Parvisol, I find there are some
+perplexities.—Joe has likewise written to me, to thank me for what I have
+done for him; and desires I would write to the Bishop of Clogher, that
+Tom Ashe {235d} may not hinder his father {235e} from being portreve.  I
+have written and sent to Joe several times, that I will not trouble
+myself at all about Trim.  I wish them their liberty, but they do not
+deserve it: so tell Joe, and send to him.  I am mighty happy with this
+rain: I was at the end of my patience, but now I live again.  This cannot
+go till Saturday; and perhaps I may go out of town with Lord Shelburne
+and Lady Kerry to-morrow for two or three days.  Lady Kerry has written
+to desire it; but to-morrow I shall know farther.—O this dear rain, I
+cannot forbear praising it: I never felt myself to be revived so in my
+life.  It lasted from three till five, hard as a horn, and mixed with
+hail.
+
+8.  Morning.  I am going to town, and will just finish this there, if I
+go into the country with Lady Kerry and Lord Shelburne: so morrow, till
+an hour or two hence.—In town.  I met Cairnes, who, I suppose, will pay
+me the money; though he says I must send him the bill first, and I will
+get it done in absence.  Farewell, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXV.
+
+
+            CHELSEA, _June_ 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.
+
+I HAVE been all this time at Wycombe, between Oxford and London, with
+Lord Shelburne, who has the squire’s house at the town’s end, and an
+estate there in a delicious country.  Lady Kerry and Mrs. Pratt were with
+us, and we passed our time well enough; and there I wholly disengaged
+myself from all public thoughts, and everything but MD, who had the
+impudence to send me a letter there; but I’ll be revenged: I will answer
+it.  This day, the 20th, I came from Wycombe with Lady Kerry after
+dinner, lighted at Hyde Park Corner, and walked: it was twenty-seven
+miles, and we came it in about five hours.
+
+21.  I went at noon to see Mr. Secretary at his office, and there was
+Lord Treasurer: so I killed two birds, etc., and we were glad to see one
+another, and so forth.  And the Secretary and I dined at Sir William
+Wyndham’s, {236} who married Lady Catharine Seymour, your acquaintance, I
+suppose.  There were ten of us at dinner.  It seems, in my absence, they
+had erected a Club, {237a} and made me one; and we made some laws to-day,
+which I am to digest and add to, against next meeting.  Our meetings are
+to be every Thursday.  We are yet but twelve: Lord Keeper and Lord
+Treasurer were proposed; but I was against them, and so was Mr.
+Secretary, though their sons are of it, and so they are excluded; but we
+design to admit the Duke of Shrewsbury.  The end of our Club is, to
+advance conversation and friendship, and to reward deserving persons with
+our interest and recommendation.  We take in none but men of wit or men
+of interest; and if we go on as we begin, no other Club in this town will
+be worth talking of.  The Solicitor-General, Sir Robert Raymond, is one
+of our Club; and I ordered him immediately to write to your Lord
+Chancellor in favour of Dr. Raymond: so tell Raymond, if you see him; but
+I believe this will find you at Wexford.  This letter will come three
+weeks after the last, so there is a week lost; but that is owing to my
+being out of town; yet I think it is right, because it goes enclosed to
+Mr. Reading: {237b} and why should he know how often Presto writes to MD,
+pray?—I sat this evening with Lady Betty Butler and Lady Ashburnham, and
+then came home by eleven, and had a good cool walk; for we have had no
+extreme hot weather this fortnight, but a great deal of rain at times,
+and a body can live and breathe.  I hope it will hold so.  We had peaches
+to-day.
+
+22.  I went late to-day to town, and dined with my friend Lewis.  I saw
+Will Congreve attending at the Treasury, by order, with his brethren, the
+Commissioners of the Wine Licences.  I had often mentioned him with
+kindness to Lord Treasurer; and Congreve told me that, after they had
+answered to what they were sent for, my lord called him privately, and
+spoke to him with great kindness, promising his protection, etc.  The
+poor man said he had been used so ill of late years that he was quite
+astonished at my lord’s goodness, etc., and desired me to tell my lord
+so; which I did this evening, and recommended him heartily.  My lord
+assured me he esteemed him very much, and would be always kind to him;
+that what he said was to make Congreve easy, because he knew people
+talked as if his lordship designed to turn everybody out, and
+particularly Congreve: which indeed was true, for the poor man told me he
+apprehended it.  As I left my Lord Treasurer, I called on Congreve
+(knowing where he dined), and told him what had passed between my lord
+and me; so I have made a worthy man easy, and that is a good day’s work.
+{238a}  I am proposing to my lord to erect a society or academy for
+correcting and settling our language, that we may not perpetually be
+changing as we do.  He enters mightily into it, so does the Dean of
+Carlisle; {238b} and I design to write a letter to Lord Treasurer with
+the proposals of it, and publish it; {238c} and so I told my lord, and he
+approves it.  Yesterday’s {238d} was a sad _Examiner_, and last week was
+very indifferent, though some little scraps of the old spirit, as if he
+had given some hints; but yesterday’s is all trash.  It is plain the hand
+is changed.
+
+23.  I have not been in London to-day: for Dr. Gastrell {238e} and I
+dined, by invitation, with the Dean of Carlisle, my neighbour; so I know
+not what they are doing in the world, a mere country gentleman.  And are
+not you ashamed both to go into the country just when I did, and stay ten
+days, just as I did, saucy monkeys?  But I never rode; I had no horses,
+and our coach was out of order, and we went and came in a hired one.  Do
+you keep your lodgings when you go to Wexford?  I suppose you do; for you
+will hardly stay above two months.  I have been walking about our town
+to-night, and it is a very scurvy place for walking.  I am thinking to
+leave it, and return to town, now the Irish folks are gone.  Ford goes in
+three days.  How does Dingley divert herself while Stella is riding?
+work, or read, or walk?  Does Dingley ever read to you?  Had you ever a
+book with you in the country?  Is all that left off?  Confess.  Well,
+I’ll go sleep; ’tis past eleven, and I go early to sleep: I write nothing
+at night but to MD.
+
+24.  Stratford and I, and Pastoral Philips (just come from Denmark) dined
+at Ford’s to-day, who paid his way, and goes for Ireland on Tuesday.  The
+Earl of Peterborow is returned from Vienna without one servant: he left
+them scattered in several towns of Germany.  I had a letter from him,
+four days ago, from Hanover, where he desires I would immediately send
+him an answer to his house at Parson’s Green, {239} about five miles off.
+I wondered what he meant, till I heard he was come.  He sent expresses,
+and got here before them.  He is above fifty, and as active as one of
+five-and-twenty.  I have not seen him yet, nor know when I shall, or
+where to find him.
+
+25.  Poor Duke of Shrewsbury has been very ill of a fever: we were all in
+a fright about him: I thank God, he is better.  I dined to-day at Lord
+Ashburnham’s, with his lady, for he was not at home: she is a very good
+girl, and always a great favourite of mine.  Sterne tells me he has
+desired a friend to receive your box in Chester, and carry it over.  I
+fear he will miscarry in his business, which was sent to the Treasury
+before he was recommended; for I was positive only to second his
+recommendations, and all his other friends failed him.  However, on your
+account I will do what I can for him to-morrow with the secretary of the
+Treasury.
+
+26.  We had much company to-day at dinner at Lord Treasurer’s.  Prior
+never fails: he is a much better courtier than I; and we expect every day
+that he will be a Commissioner of the Customs, and that in a short time a
+great many more will be turned out.  They blame Lord Treasurer for his
+slowness in turning people out; but I suppose he has his reasons.  They
+still keep my neighbour Atterbury in suspense about the deanery of Christ
+Church, {240a} which has been above six months vacant, and he is heartily
+angry.  I reckon you are now preparing for your Wexford expedition; and
+poor Dingley is full of carking and caring, scolding.  How long will you
+stay?  Shall I be in Dublin before you return?  Don’t fall and hurt
+yourselves, nor overturn the coach.  Love one another, and be good girls;
+and drink Presto’s health in water, Madam Stella; and in good ale, Madam
+Dingley.
+
+27.  The Secretary appointed me to dine with him to-day, and we were to
+do a world of business: he came at four, and brought Prior with him, and
+had forgot the appointment, and no business was done.  I left him at
+eight, and went to change my gown at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s; and there was Sir
+Andrew Fountaine at ombre with Lady Ashburnham and Lady Frederic
+Schomberg, and Lady Mary Schomberg, {240b} and Lady Betty Butler, and
+others, talking; and it put me in mind of the Dean and Stoyte, and Walls,
+and Stella at play, and Dingley and I looking on.  I stayed with them
+till ten, like a fool.  Lady Ashburnham is something like Stella; so I
+helped her, and wished her good cards.  It is late, etc.
+
+28.  Well, but I must answer this letter of our MD’s.  Saturday
+approaches, and I han’t written down this side.  O, faith, Presto has
+been a sort of a lazy fellow: but Presto will remove to town this day
+se’ennight; the Secretary has commanded me to do so; and I believe he and
+I shall go for some days to Windsor, where he will have leisure to mind
+some business we have together.  To-day, our Society (it must not be
+called a Club) dined at Mr. Secretary’s: we were but eight; the rest sent
+excuses, or were out of town.  We sat till eight, and made some laws and
+settlements; and then I went to take leave of Lady Ashburnham, who goes
+out of town to-morrow, as a great many of my acquaintance are already,
+and left the town very thin.  I shall make but short journeys this
+summer, and not be long out of London.  The days are grown sensibly short
+already, all our fruit blasted.  Your Duke of Ormond is still at Chester;
+and perhaps this letter will be with you as soon as he.  Sterne’s
+business is quite blown up: they stand to it to send him back to the
+Commissioners of the Revenue in Ireland for a reference, and all my
+credit could not alter it, though I almost fell out with the secretary of
+the Treasury, {241} who is my Lord Treasurer’s cousin-germain, and my
+very good friend.  It seems every step he has hitherto taken hath been
+wrong; at least they say so, and that is the same thing.  I am heartily
+sorry for it; and I really think they are in the wrong, and use him
+hardly; but I can do no more.
+
+29.  Steele has had the assurance to write to me that I would engage my
+Lord Treasurer to keep a friend of his in an employment: I believe I told
+you how he and Addison served me for my good offices in Steele’s behalf;
+and I promised Lord Treasurer never to speak for either of them again.
+Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined to-day at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s.  Dilly Ashe
+has been in town this fortnight: I saw him twice; he was four days at
+Lord Pembroke’s in the country, punning with him; his face is very well.
+I was this evening two or three hours at Lord Treasurer’s, who called me
+Dr. Thomas Swift twenty times; that’s his way of teasing.  I left him at
+nine, and got home here by ten, like a gentleman; and to-morrow morning
+I’ll answer your little letter, sirrahs.
+
+30.  Morning.  I am terribly sleepy always in a morning; I believe it is
+my walk over-night that disposes me to sleep: faith, ’tis now striking
+eight, and I am but just awake.  Patrick comes early, and wakes me five
+or six times; but I have excuses, though I am three parts asleep.  I tell
+him I sat up late, or slept ill in the night, and often it is a lie.  I
+have now got little MD’s letter before me, N. 16, no more, nor no less,
+no mistake.  Dingley says, “This letter won’t be above six lines”; and I
+was afraid it was true, though I saw it filled on both sides.  The Bishop
+of Clogher writ me word you were in the country, and that he heard you
+were well: I am glad at heart MD rides, and rides, and rides.  Our hot
+weather ended in May, and all this month has been moderate: it was then
+so hot I was not able to endure it; I was miserable every moment, and
+found myself disposed to be peevish and quarrelsome: I believe a very hot
+country would make me stark mad.—Yes, my head continues pretty tolerable,
+and I impute it all to walking.  Does Stella eat fruit?  I eat a little;
+but I always repent, and resolve against it.  No, in very hot weather I
+always go to town by water; but I constantly walk back, for then the sun
+is down.  And so Mrs. Proby {242} goes with you to Wexford: she’s
+admirable company; you’ll grow plaguy wise with those you frequent.  Mrs.
+Taylor and Mrs. Proby! take care of infection.  I believe my two hundred
+pounds will be paid, but that Sir Alexander Cairnes is a scrupulous
+puppy: I left the bill with Mr. Stratford, who is to have the money.
+Now, Madam Stella, what say you? you ride every day; I know that already,
+sirrah; and, if you rid every day for a twelvemonth, you would be still
+better and better.  No, I hope Parvisol will not have the impudence to
+make you stay an hour for the money; if he does, I’ll _un-parvisol_ him;
+pray let me know.  O Lord, how hasty we are!  Stella can’t stay writing
+and writing; she must write and go a cock-horse, pray now.  Well, but the
+horses are not come to the door; the fellow can’t find the bridle; your
+stirrup is broken; where did you put the whips, Dingley?  Marget, where
+have you laid Mrs. Johnson’s ribbon to tie about her? reach me my mask:
+sup up this before you go.  So, so, a gallop, a gallop: sit fast, sirrah,
+and don’t ride hard upon the stones.—Well, now Stella is gone, tell me,
+Dingley, is she a good girl? and what news is that you are to tell
+me?—No, I believe the box is not lost: Sterne says it is not.—No, faith,
+you must go to Wexford without seeing your Duke of Ormond, unless you
+stay on purpose; perhaps you may be so wise.—I tell you this is your
+sixteenth letter; will you never be satisfied?  No, no, I will walk late
+no more; I ought less to venture it than other people, and so I was told:
+but I will return to lodge in town next Thursday.  When you come from
+Wexford, I would have you send a letter of attorney to Mr. Benjamin
+Tooke, bookseller, in London, directed to me; and he shall manage your
+affair.  I have your parchment safely locked up in London.—O, Madam
+Stella, welcome home; was it pleasant riding? did your horse stumble? how
+often did the man light to settle your stirrup? ride nine miles! faith,
+you have galloped indeed.  Well, but where is the fine thing you promised
+me?  I have been a good boy, ask Dingley else.  I believe you did not
+meet the fine-thing-man: faith, you are a cheat.  So you will see Raymond
+and his wife in town.  Faith, that riding to Laracor gives me short
+sighs, as well as you.  All the days I have passed here have been dirt to
+those.  I have been gaining enemies by the scores, and friends by the
+couples; which is against the rules of wisdom, because they say one enemy
+can do more hurt than ten friends can do good.  But I have had my revenge
+at least, if I get nothing else.  And so let Fate govern.—Now I think
+your letter is answered; and mine will be shorter than ordinary, because
+it must go to-day.  We have had a great deal of scattering rain for some
+days past, yet it hardly keeps down the dust.—We have plays acted in our
+town; and Patrick was at one of them, oh oh.  He was damnably mauled one
+day when he was drunk; he was at cuffs with a brother-footman, who
+dragged him along the floor upon his face, which looked for a week after
+as if he had the leprosy; and I was glad enough to see it.  I have been
+ten times sending him over to you; yet now he has new clothes, and a
+laced hat, which the hatter brought by his orders, and he offered to pay
+for the lace out of his wages.—I am to dine to-day with Dilly at Sir
+Andrew Fountaine’s, who has bought a new house, and will be weary of it
+in half a year.  I must rise and shave, and walk to town, unless I go
+with the Dean in his chariot at twelve, which is too late: and I have not
+seen that Lord Peterborow yet.  The Duke of Shrewsbury is almost well
+again, and will be abroad in a day or two: what care you?  There it is
+now: you do not care for my friends.  Farewell, my dearest lives and
+delights; I love you better than ever, if possible, as hope saved, I do,
+and ever will.  God Almighty bless you ever, and make us happy together!
+I pray for this twice every day; and I hope God will hear my poor hearty
+prayers.—Remember, if I am used ill and ungratefully, as I have formerly
+been, ’tis what I am prepared for, and shall not wonder at it.  Yet I am
+now envied, and thought in high favour, and have every day numbers of
+considerable men teasing me to solicit for them.  And the Ministry all
+use me perfectly well; and all that know them say they love me.  Yet I
+can count upon nothing, nor will, but upon MD’s love and kindness.—They
+think me useful; they pretended they were afraid of none but me, and that
+they resolved to have me; they have often confessed this: yet all makes
+little impression on me.—Pox of these speculations! they give me the
+spleen; and that is a disease I was not born to.  Let me alone, sirrahs,
+and be satisfied: I am, as long as MD and Presto are well.
+
+    Little wealth,
+    And much health,
+    And a life by stealth:
+
+that is all we want; and so farewell, dearest MD; Stella, Dingley,
+Presto, all together, now and for ever all together.  Farewell again and
+again.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXVI.
+
+
+                                                 CHELSEA, _June_ 30, 1711.
+
+SEE what large paper I am forced to take, to write to MD; Patrick has
+brought me none clipped; but, faith, the next shall be smaller.  I dined
+to-day, as I told you, with Dilly at Sir Andrew Fountaine’s: there were
+we wretchedly punning, and writing together to Lord Pembroke.  Dilly is
+just such a puppy as ever; and it is so uncouth, after so long an
+intermission.  My twenty-fifth is gone this evening to the post.  I think
+I will direct my next (which is this) to Mr. Curry’s, and let them send
+it to Wexford; and then the next enclosed to Reading.  Instruct me how I
+shall do.  I long to hear from you from Wexford, and what sort of place
+it is.  The town grows very empty and dull.  This evening I have had a
+letter from Mr. Philips, the pastoral poet, to get him a certain
+employment from Lord Treasurer.  I have now had almost all the Whig poets
+my solicitors; and I have been useful to Congreve, Steele, and Harrison:
+but I will do nothing for Philips; I find he is more a puppy than ever,
+so don’t solicit for him.  Besides, I will not trouble Lord Treasurer,
+unless upon some very extraordinary occasion.
+
+July 1.  Dilly lies conveniently for me when I come to town from Chelsea
+of a Sunday, and go to the Secretary’s; so I called at his lodgings this
+morning, and sent for my gown, and dressed myself there.  He had a letter
+from the Bishop, with an account that you were set out for Wexford the
+morning he writ, which was June 26, and he had the letter the 30th; that
+was very quick: the Bishop says you design to stay there two months or
+more.  Dilly had also a letter from Tom Ashe, full of Irish news; that
+your Lady Lyndon {245a} is dead, and I know not what besides of Dr.
+Coghill {245b} losing his drab, etc.  The Secretary was gone to Windsor,
+and I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.  Lord Treasurer is at Windsor too; they
+will be going and coming all summer, while the Queen is there, and the
+town is empty, and I fear I shall be sometimes forced to stoop beneath my
+dignity, and send to the ale-house for a dinner.  Well, sirrahs, had you
+a good journey to Wexford? did you drink ale by the way? were you never
+overturned? how many things did you forget? do you lie on straw in your
+new town where you are?  Cudshoe, {246} the next letter to Presto will be
+dated from Wexford.  What fine company have you there? what new
+acquaintance have you got?  You are to write constantly to Mrs. Walls and
+Mrs. Stoyte: and the Dean said, “Shall we never hear from you?”  “Yes,
+Mr. Dean, we’ll make bold to trouble you with a letter.”  Then at
+Wexford; when you meet a lady, “Did your waters pass well this morning,
+madam?”  Will Dingley drink them too?  Yes, I warrant; to get her a
+stomach.  I suppose you are all gamesters at Wexford.  Do not lose your
+money, sirrah, far from home.  I believe I shall go to Windsor in a few
+days; at least, the Secretary tells me so.  He has a small house there,
+with just room enough for him and me; and I would be satisfied to pass a
+few days there sometimes.  Sirrahs, let me go to sleep, it is past twelve
+in our town.
+
+2.  Sterne came to me this morning, and tells me he has yet some hopes of
+compassing his business: he was with Tom Harley, the secretary of the
+Treasury, and made him doubt a little he was in the wrong; the poor man
+tells me it will almost undo him if he fails.  I called this morning to
+see Will Congreve, who lives much by himself, is forced to read for
+amusement, and cannot do it without a magnifying-glass.  I have set him
+very well with the Ministry, and I hope he is in no danger of losing his
+place.  I dined in the City with Dr. Freind, not among my merchants, but
+with a scrub instrument of mischief of mine, whom I never mentioned to
+you, nor am like to do.  You two little saucy Wexfordians, you are now
+drinking waters.  You drink waters! you go fiddlestick.  Pray God send
+them to do you good; if not, faith, next summer you shall come to the
+Bath.
+
+3.  Lord Peterborow desired to see me this morning at nine; I had not
+seen him before since he came home.  I met Mrs. Manley {247a} there, who
+was soliciting him to get some pension or reward for her service in the
+cause, by writing her _Atalantis_, and prosecution, etc., upon it.  I
+seconded her, and hope they will do something for the poor woman.  My
+lord kept me two hours upon politics: he comes home very sanguine; he has
+certainly done great things at Savoy and Vienna, by his negotiations: he
+is violent against a peace, and finds true what I writ to him, that the
+Ministry seems for it.  He reasons well; yet I am for a peace.  I took
+leave of Lady Kerry, who goes to-morrow for Ireland; she picks up Lord
+Shelburne and Mrs. Pratt at Lord Shelburne’s house.  I was this evening
+with Lord Treasurer: Tom Harley was there, and whispered me that he began
+to doubt about Sterne’s business; I told him he would find he was in the
+wrong.  I sat two or three hours at Lord Treasurer’s; he rallied me
+sufficiently upon my refusing to take him into our Club, and told a judge
+who was with us that my name was Thomas Swift.  I had a mind to prevent
+Sir H. Belasyse {247b} going to Spain, who is a most covetous cur, and I
+fell a railing against avarice, and turned it so that he smoked me, and
+named Belasyse.  I went on, and said it was a shame to send him; to which
+he agreed, but desired I would name some who understood business, and do
+not love money, for he could not find them.  I said there was something
+in a Treasurer different from other men; that we ought not to make a man
+a Bishop who does not love divinity, or a General who does not love war;
+and I wondered why the Queen would make a man Lord Treasurer who does not
+love money.  He was mightily pleased with what I said.  He was talking of
+the First-Fruits of England, and I took occasion to tell him that I would
+not for a thousand pounds anybody but he had got them for Ireland, who
+got them for England too.  He bid me consider what a thousand pounds was;
+I said I would have him to know I valued a thousand pounds as little as
+he valued a million.—Is it not silly to write all this? but it gives you
+an idea what our conversation is with mixed company.  I have taken a
+lodging in Suffolk Street, and go to it on Thursday; and design to walk
+the Park and the town, to supply my walking here: yet I will walk here
+sometimes too, in a visit now and then to the Dean. {248}  When I was
+almost at home, Patrick told me he had two letters for me, and gave them
+to me in the dark, yet I could see one of them was from saucy MD.  I went
+to visit the Dean for half an hour; and then came home, and first read
+the other letter, which was from the Bishop of Clogher, who tells me the
+Archbishop of Dublin mentioned in a full assembly of the clergy the
+Queen’s granting the First-Fruits, said it was done by the Lord
+Treasurer, and talked much of my merit in it: but reading yours I find
+nothing of that: perhaps the Bishop lies, out of a desire to please me.
+I dined with Mrs. Vanhomrigh.  Well, sirrahs, you are gone to Wexford;
+but I’ll follow you.
+
+4.  Sterne came to me again this morning, to advise about reasons and
+memorials he is drawing up; and we went to town by water together; and
+having nothing to do, I stole into the City to an instrument of mine, and
+then went to see poor Patty Rolt, {249a} who has been in town these two
+months with a cousin of hers.  Her life passes with boarding in some
+country town as cheap as she can, and, when she runs out, shifting to
+some cheaper place, or coming to town for a month.  If I were rich, I
+would ease her, which a little thing would do.  Some months ago I sent
+her a guinea, and it patched up twenty circumstances.  She is now going
+to Berkhamstead in Hertfordshire.  It has rained and hailed prodigiously
+to-day, with some thunder.  This is the last night I lie at Chelsea; and
+I got home early, and sat two hours with the Dean, and ate victuals,
+having had a very scurvy dinner.  I’ll answer your letter when I come to
+live in town.  You shall have a fine London answer: but first I will go
+sleep, and dream of MD.
+
+London, July 5.  This day I left Chelsea for good (that’s a genteel
+phrase), and am got into Suffolk Street.  I dined to-day at our Society,
+and we are adjourned for a month, because most of us go into the country:
+we dined at Lord Keeper’s with young Harcourt, and Lord Keeper was forced
+to sneak off, and dine with Lord Treasurer, who had invited the Secretary
+and me to dine with him; but we scorned to leave our company, as George
+Granville did, whom we have threatened to expel: however, in the evening
+I went to Lord Treasurer, and, among other company, found a couple of
+judges with him; one of them, Judge Powell, {249b} an old fellow with
+grey hairs, was the merriest old gentleman I ever saw, spoke pleasant
+things, and laughed and chuckled till he cried again.  I stayed till
+eleven, because I was not now to walk to Chelsea.
+
+6.  An ugly rainy day.  I was to visit Mrs. Barton, then called at Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh’s, where Sir Andrew Fountaine and the rain kept me to dinner;
+and there did I loiter all the afternoon, like a fool, out of perfect
+laziness, and the weather not permitting me to walk: but I’ll do so no
+more.  Are your waters at Wexford good in this rain?  I long to hear how
+you are established there, how and whom you visit, what is your lodging,
+what are your entertainments.  You are got far southwards; but I think
+you must eat no fruit while you drink the waters.  I ate some Kentish
+cherries t’other day, and I repent it already; I have felt my head a
+little disordered.  We had not a hot day all June, or since, which I
+reckon a mighty happiness.  Have you left a direction with Reading for
+Wexford?  I will, as I said, direct this to Curry’s, and the next to
+Reading; or suppose I send this at a venture straight to Wexford?  It
+would vex me to have it miscarry.  I had a letter to-night from Parvisol,
+that White has paid me most of my remaining money; and another from Joe,
+that they have had their election at Trim, but not a word of who is
+chosen portreeve. {250a}  Poor Joe is full of complaints, says he has
+enemies, and fears he will never get his two hundred pounds; and I fear
+so too, although I have done what I could.—I’ll answer your letter when I
+think fit, when saucy Presto thinks fit, sirrahs.  I am not at leisure
+yet; when I have nothing to do, perhaps I may vouchsafe.—O Lord, the two
+Wexford ladies; I’ll go dream of you both.
+
+7.  It was the dismallest rainy day I ever saw: I went to the Secretary
+in the morning, and he was gone to Windsor.  Then it began raining, and I
+struck in to Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and dined, and stayed till night very
+dull and insipid.  I hate this town in summer; I’ll leave it for a while,
+if I can have time.
+
+8.  I have a fellow of your town, one Tisdall, {250b} lodges in the same
+house with me.  Patrick told me Squire Tisdall and his lady lodged here.
+I pretended I never heard of him; but I knew his ugly face, and saw him
+at church in the next pew to me, and he often looked for a bow, but it
+would not do.  I think he lives in Capel Street, and has an ugly fine
+wife in a fine coach.  Dr. Freind and I dined in the City by invitation,
+and I drank punch, very good, but it makes me hot.  People here are
+troubled with agues by this continuance of wet, cold weather; but I am
+glad to find the season so temperate.  I was this evening to see Will
+Congreve, who is a very agreeable companion.
+
+9.  I was to-day in the City, and dined with Mr. Stratford, who tells me
+Sir Alexander Cairnes makes difficulties about paying my bill; so that I
+cannot give order yet to Parvisol to deliver up the bond to Dr. Raymond.
+To-morrow I shall have a positive answer: that Cairnes is a shuffling
+scoundrel; and several merchants have told me so: what can one expect
+from a Scot and a fanatic?  I was at Bateman’s the bookseller’s, to see a
+fine old library he has bought; and my fingers itched, as yours would do
+at a china-shop; but I resisted, and found everything too dear, and I
+have fooled away too much money that way already.  So go and drink your
+waters, saucy rogue, and make yourself well; and pray walk while you are
+there: I have a notion there is never a good walk in Ireland. {251}  Do
+you find all places without trees?  Pray observe the inhabitants about
+Wexford; they are old English; see what they have particular in their
+manners, names, and language: magpies have been always there, and nowhere
+else in Ireland, till of late years.  They say the cocks and dogs go to
+sleep at noon, and so do the people.  Write your travels, and bring home
+good eyes and health.
+
+10.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer: we did not sit down till four.
+I despatched three businesses with him, and forgot a fourth.  I think I
+have got a friend an employment; and besides I made him consent to let me
+bring Congreve to dine with him.  You must understand I have a mind to do
+a small thing, only turn out all the Queen’s physicians; for in my
+conscience they will soon kill her among them.  And I must talk over that
+matter with some people.  My Lord Treasurer told me the Queen and he
+between them have lost the paper about the First-Fruits, but desires I
+will let the bishops know it shall be done with the first opportunity.
+
+11.  I dined to-day with neighbour Van, and walked pretty well in the
+Park this evening.  Stella, hussy, don’t you remember, sirrah, you used
+to reproach me about meddling in other folk’s affairs?  I have enough of
+it now: two people came to me to-night in the Park to engage to speak to
+Lord Treasurer in their behalf, and I believe they make up fifty who have
+asked me the same favour.  I am hardened, and resolve to trouble him, or
+any other Minister, less than ever.  And I observe those who have ten
+times more credit than I will not speak a word for anybody.  I met
+yesterday the poor lad I told you of, who lived with Mr. Tenison, {252a}
+who has been ill of an ague ever since I saw him.  He looked wretchedly,
+and was exceeding thankful for half a crown I gave him.  He had a crown
+from me before.
+
+12.  I dined to-day with young Manley {252b} in the City, who is to get
+me out a box of books and a hamper of wine from Hamburg.  I inquired of
+Mr. Stratford, who tells me that Cairnes has not yet paid my two hundred
+pounds, but shams and delays from day to day.  Young Manley’s wife is a
+very indifferent person of a young woman, goggle-eyed, and looks like a
+fool: yet he is a handsome fellow, and married her for love after long
+courtship, and she refused him until he got his last employment.—I
+believe I shall not be so good a boy for writing as I was during your
+stay at Wexford, unless I may send my letters every second time to
+Curry’s; pray let me know.  This, I think, shall go there: or why not to
+Wexford itself?  That is right, and so it shall this next Tuesday,
+although it costs you tenpence.  What care I?
+
+13.  This toad of a Secretary is come from Windsor, and I cannot find
+him; and he goes back on Sunday, and I can’t see him to-morrow.  I dined
+scurvily to-day with Mr. Lewis and a parson; and then went to see Lord
+Treasurer, and met him coming from his house in his coach: he smiled, and
+I shrugged, and we smoked each other; and so my visit is paid.  I now
+confine myself to see him only twice a week: he has invited me to
+Windsor, and betwixt two stools, etc.  I will go live at Windsor, if
+possible, that’s pozzz.  I have always the luck to pass my summer in
+London.  I called this evening to see poor Sir Matthew Dudley, a
+Commissioner of the Customs; I know he is to be out for certain: he is in
+hopes of continuing: I would not tell him bad news, but advised him to
+prepare for the worst.  Dilly was with me this morning, to invite me to
+dine at Kensington on Sunday with Lord Mountjoy, who goes soon for
+Ireland.  Your late Chief-Justice Broderick {253a} is here, and they say
+violent as a tiger.  How is party among you at Wexford?  Are the majority
+of ladies for the late or present Ministry?  Write me Wexford news, and
+love Presto, because he is a good boy.
+
+14.  Although it was shaving-day, I walked to Chelsea, and was there by
+nine this morning; and the Dean of Carlisle and I crossed the water to
+Battersea, and went in his chariot to Greenwich, where we dined at Dr.
+Gastrell’s, and passed the afternoon at Lewisham, at the Dean of
+Canterbury’s; {253b} and there I saw Moll Stanhope, {253c} who is grown
+monstrously tall, but not so handsome as formerly.  It is the first
+little rambling journey I have had this summer about London, and they are
+the agreeablest pastimes one can have, in a friend’s coach, and to good
+company.  Bank Stock is fallen three or four per cent. by the whispers
+about the town of the Queen’s being ill, who is however very well.
+
+15.  How many books have you carried with you to Wexford?  What, not one
+single book?  Oh, but your time will be so taken up; and you can borrow
+of the parson.  I dined to-day with Sir Andrew Fountaine and Dilly at
+Kensington with Lord Mountjoy; and in the afternoon Stratford came there,
+and told me my two hundred pounds were paid at last; so that business is
+over, and I am at ease about it; and I wish all your money was in the
+Bank too.  I will have my other hundred pounds there, that is in
+Hawkshaw’s hands.  Have you had the interest of it paid yet?  I ordered
+Parvisol to do it.  What makes Presto write so crooked?  I will answer
+your letter to-morrow, and send it on Tuesday.  Here’s hot weather come
+again, yesterday and to-day: fine drinking waters now.  We had a sad pert
+dull parson at Kensington to-day.  I almost repent my coming to town; I
+want the walks I had.
+
+16.  I dined in the City to-day with a hedge {254} acquaintance, and the
+day passed without any consequence.  I will answer your letter to-morrow.
+
+17.  Morning.  I have put your letter before me, and am going to answer
+it.  Hold your tongue: stand by.  Your weather and ours were not alike;
+we had not a bit of hot weather in June, yet you complain of it on the
+19th day.  What, you used to love hot weather then?  I could never endure
+it: I detest and abominate it.  I would not live in a hot country, to be
+king of it.  What a splutter you keep about my bonds with Raymond, and
+all to affront Presto!  Presto will be suspicious of everything but MD,
+in spite of your little nose.  Soft and fair, Madam Stella, how you
+gallop away, in your spleen and your rage, about repenting my journey,
+and preferment here, and sixpence a dozen, and nasty England, and Laracor
+all my life.  Hey-dazy, will you never have done?  I had no offers of any
+living.  Lord Keeper told me some months ago he would give me one when I
+pleased; but I told him I would not take any from him; and the Secretary
+told me t’other day he had refused a very good one for me, but it was in
+a place he did not like; and I know nothing of getting anything here,
+and, if they would give me leave, I would come over just now.  Addison, I
+hear, has changed his mind about going over; but I have not seen him
+these four months.—Oh ay, that’s true, Dingley; that’s like herself:
+millions of businesses to do before she goes.  Yes, my head has been
+pretty well, but threatening within these two or three days, which I
+impute to some fruit I ate; but I will eat no more: not a bit of any
+sort.  I suppose you had a journey without dust, and that was happy.  I
+long for a Wexford letter, but must not think of it yet: your last was
+finished but three weeks ago.  It is d—d news you tell me of Mrs. F—; it
+makes me love England less a great deal.  I know nothing of the trunk
+being left or taken; so ’tis odd enough, if the things in it were mine;
+and I think I was told that there are some things for me that my mother
+left particularly to me.  I am really sorry for —; that scoundrel — will
+have his estate after his mother’s death.  Let me know if Mrs. Walls has
+got her tea: I hope Richardson {255a} stayed in Dublin till it came.
+Mrs. Walls needed not have that blemish in her eye; for I am not in love
+with her at all.  No, I do not like anything in the _Examiner_ after the
+45th, except the first part of the 46th; {255b} all the rest is trash;
+and if you like them, especially the 47th, your judgment is spoiled by
+ill company and want of reading, which I am more sorry for than you
+think: and I have spent fourteen years in improving you to little
+purpose.  (Mr. Tooke is come here, and I must stop.)—At night.  I dined
+with Lord Treasurer to-day, and he kept me till nine; so I cannot send
+this to-night, as I intended, nor write some other letters.  Green,
+{255c} his surgeon, was there, and dressed his breast; that is, put on a
+plaster, which is still requisite: and I took an opportunity to speak to
+him of the Queen; but he cut me short with this saying, “_Laissez faire à
+Don Antoine_,” which is a French proverb, expressing, “Leave that to me.”
+I find he is against her taking much physic; and I doubt he cannot
+persuade her to take Dr. Radcliffe.  However, she is very well now, and
+all the story of her illness, except the first day or two, was a lie.  We
+had some business, that company hindered us from doing, though he is
+earnest for it, yet would not appoint me a certain day, but bids me come
+at all times till we can have leisure.  This takes up a great deal of my
+time, and I can do nothing I would do for them.  I was with the Secretary
+this morning, and we both think to go to Windsor for some days, to
+despatch an affair, if we can have leisure.  Sterne met me just now in
+the street by his lodgings, and I went in for an hour to Jemmy Leigh, who
+loves London dearly: he asked after you with great respect and
+friendship.—To return to your letter.  Your Bishop Mills {256a} hates me
+mortally: I wonder he should speak well of me, having abused me in all
+places where he went.  So you pay your way.  Cudsho: you had a fine
+supper, I warrant; two pullets, and a bottle of wine, and some
+currants.—It is just three weeks to-day since you set out to Wexford; you
+were three days going, and I do not expect a letter these ten days yet,
+or rather this fortnight.  I got a grant of the _Gazette_ {256b} for Ben
+Tooke this morning from Mr. Secretary: it will be worth to him a hundred
+pounds a year.
+
+18.  To-day I took leave of Mrs. Barton, who is going into the country;
+and I dined with Sir John Stanley, {256c} where I have not been this
+great while.  There dined with us Lord Rochester, and his fine daughter,
+Lady Jane, {256d} just growing a top-toast.  I have been endeavouring to
+save Sir Matthew Dudley, {257a} but fear I cannot.  I walked the Mall six
+times to-night for exercise, and would have done more; but, as empty as
+the town is, a fool got hold of me, and so I came home, to tell you this
+shall go to-morrow, without fail, and follow you to Wexford, like a dog.
+
+19.  Dean Atterbury sent to me to dine with him at Chelsea.  I refused
+his coach, and walked, and am come back by seven, because I would finish
+this letter, and some others I am writing.  Patrick tells me the maid
+says one Mr. Walls, a clergyman, a tall man, was here to visit me.  Is it
+your Irish Archdeacon?  I shall be sorry for it; but I shall make shift
+to see him seldom enough, as I do Dilly.  What can he do here? or is it
+somebody else?  The Duke of Newcastle {257b} is dead by the fall he had
+from his horse.  God send poor Stella her health, and keep MD happy!
+Farewell, and love Presto, who loves MD above all things ten million of
+times.  God bless the dear Wexford girls.  Farewell again, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXVII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _July_ 19, 1711.
+
+I HAVE just sent my 26th, and have nothing to say, because I have other
+letters to write (pshaw, I began too high); but I must lay the beginning
+like a nest-egg: to-morrow I will say more, and fetch up this line to be
+straight.  This is enough at present for two dear saucy naughty girls.
+
+20.  Have I told you that Walls has been with me, and leaves the town in
+three days?  He has brought no gown with him.  Dilly carried him to a
+play.  He has come upon a foolish errand, and goes back as he comes.  I
+was this day with Lord Peterborow, who is going another ramble: I believe
+I told you so.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, but cannot get him to do his
+own business with me; he has put me off till to-morrow.
+
+21, 22.  I dined yesterday with Lord Treasurer, who would needs take me
+along with him to Windsor, although I refused him several times, having
+no linen, etc.  I had just time to desire Lord Forbes {258a} to call at
+my lodging and order my man to send my things to-day to Windsor by his
+servant.  I lay last night at the Secretary’s lodgings at Windsor, and
+borrowed one of his shirts to go to Court in.  The Queen is very well.  I
+dined with Mr. Masham; and not hearing anything of my things, I got Lord
+Winchelsea to bring me to town.  Here I found that Patrick had broke open
+the closet to get my linen and nightgown, and sent them to Windsor, and
+there they are; and he, not thinking I would return so soon, is gone upon
+his rambles: so here I am left destitute, and forced to borrow a
+nightgown of my landlady, and have not a rag to put on to-morrow: faith,
+it gives me the spleen.
+
+23.  Morning.  It is a terrible rainy day, and rained prodigiously on
+Saturday night.  Patrick lay out last night, and is not yet returned:
+faith, poor Presto is a desolate creature; neither servant, nor linen,
+nor anything.—Night.  Lord Forbes’s man has brought back my portmantua,
+and Patrick is come; so I am in Christian circumstances: I shall hardly
+commit such a frolic again.  I just crept out to Mrs. Van’s, and dined,
+and stayed there the afternoon: it has rained all this day.  Windsor is a
+delicious place: I never saw it before, except for an hour about
+seventeen years ago.  Walls has been here in my absence, I suppose, to
+take his leave; for he designed not to stay above five days in London.
+He says he and his wife will come here for some months next year; and, in
+short, he dares not stay now for fear of her.
+
+24.  I dined to-day with a hedge {258b} friend in the City; and Walls
+overtook me in the street, and told me he was just getting on horseback
+for Chester.  He has as much curiosity as a cow: he lodged with his horse
+in Aldersgate Street: he has bought his wife a silk gown, and himself a
+hat.  And what are you doing? what is poor MD doing now? how do you pass
+your time at Wexford? how do the waters agree with you?  Let Presto know
+soon; for Presto longs to know, and must know.  Is not Madam Proby
+curious company?  I am afraid this rainy weather will spoil your waters.
+We have had a great deal of wet these three days.  Tell me all the
+particulars of Wexford: the place, the company, the diversions, the
+victuals, the wants, the vexations.  Poor Dingley never saw such a place
+in her life; sent all over the town for a little parsley to a boiled
+chicken, and it was not to be had; the butter is stark naught, except an
+old English woman’s; and it is such a favour to get a pound from her now
+and then!  I am glad you carried down your sheets with you, else you must
+have lain in sackcloth.  O Lord!
+
+25.  I was this forenoon with Mr. Secretary at his office, and helped to
+hinder a man of his pardon, who is condemned for a rape.  The Under
+Secretary was willing to save him, upon an old notion that a woman cannot
+be ravished; but I told the Secretary he could not pardon him without a
+favourable report from the judge; besides, he was a fiddler, and
+consequently a rogue, and deserved hanging for some thing else; and so he
+shall swing.  What, I must stand up for the honour of the fair sex!  ’Tis
+true the fellow had lain with her a hundred times before, but what care I
+for that!  What, must a woman be ravished because she is a whore?—The
+Secretary and I go on Saturday to Windsor for a week.  I dined with Lord
+Treasurer, and stayed with him till past ten.  I was to-day at his levee,
+where I went against my custom, because I had a mind to do a good office
+for a gentleman: so I talked with him before my lord, that he might see
+me, and then found occasion to recommend him this afternoon.  I was
+forced to excuse my coming to the levee, that I did it to see the sight;
+for he was going to chide me away: I had never been there but once, and
+that was long before he was Treasurer.  The rooms were all full, and as
+many Whigs as Tories.  He whispered me a jest or two, and bid me come to
+dinner.  I left him but just now; and ’tis late.
+
+26.  Mr. Addison and I have at last met again.  I dined with him and
+Steele to-day at young Jacob Tonson’s.  The two Jacobs {260a} think it is
+I who have made the Secretary take from them the printing of the
+_Gazette_, which they are going to lose, and Ben Tooke and another {260b}
+are to have it.  Jacob came to me the other day, to make his court; but I
+told him it was too late, and that it was not my doing.  I reckon they
+will lose it in a week or two.  Mr. Addison and I talked as usual, and as
+if we had seen one another yesterday; and Steele and I were very easy,
+though I writ him lately a biting letter, in answer to one of his, where
+he desired me to recommend a friend of his to Lord Treasurer.  Go, get
+you gone to your waters, sirrah.  Do they give you a stomach?  Do you eat
+heartily?—We have had much rain to-day and yesterday.
+
+27.  I dined to-day in the City, and saw poor Patty Rolt, and gave her a
+pistole to help her a little forward against she goes to board in the
+country.  She has but eighteen pounds a year to live on, and is forced to
+seek out for cheap places.  Sometimes they raise their price, and
+sometimes they starve her, and then she is forced to shift.  Patrick the
+puppy put too much ink in my standish, {260c} and, carrying too many
+things together, I spilled it on my paper and floor.  The town is dull,
+wet, and empty; Wexford is worth two of it; I hope so at least, and that
+poor little MD finds it so.  I reckon upon going to Windsor to-morrow
+with Mr. Secretary, unless he changes his mind, or some other business
+prevents him.  I shall stay there a week, I hope.
+
+28.  Morning.  Mr. Secretary sent me word he will call at my lodgings by
+two this afternoon, to take me to Windsor; so I must dine nowhere; and I
+promised Lord Treasurer to dine with him to-day; but I suppose we shall
+dine at Windsor at five, for we make but three hours there. {261a}  I am
+going abroad, but have left Patrick to put up my things, and to be sure
+to be at home half an hour before two.—Windsor, at night.  We did not
+leave London till three, and dined here between six and seven; at nine I
+left the company, and went to see Lord Treasurer, who is just come.  I
+chid him for coming so late; he chid me for not dining with him; said he
+stayed an hour for me.  Then I went and sat with Mr. Lewis till just now,
+and it is past eleven.  I lie in the same house with the Secretary, one
+of the Prebendary’s houses.  The Secretary is not come from his apartment
+in the Castle.  Do you think that abominable dog Patrick was out after
+two to-day, and I in a fright every moment, for fear the chariot should
+come; and when he came in, he had not put up one rag of my things!  I
+never was in a greater passion, and would certainly have cropped one of
+his ears, if I had not looked every moment for the Secretary, who sent
+his equipage to my lodging before, and came in a chair from Whitehall to
+me, and happened to stay half an hour later than he intended.  One of
+Lord Treasurer’s servants gave me a letter to-night: I found it was from
+—, with an offer of fifty pounds, to be paid me in what manner I pleased;
+because, he said, he desired to be well with me.  I was in a rage; {261b}
+but my friend Lewis cooled me, and said it is what the best men sometimes
+meet with; and I have been not seldom served in the like manner, although
+not so grossly.  In these cases I never demur a moment, nor ever found
+the least inclination to take anything.  Well, I will go try to sleep in
+my new bed, and to dream of poor Wexford MD, and Stella that drinks
+water, and Dingley that drinks ale.
+
+29.  I was at Court and church to-day, as I was this day se’ennight: I
+generally am acquainted with about thirty in the drawing-room, and I am
+so proud I make all the lords come up to me: one passes half an hour
+pleasant enough.  We had a dunce to preach before the Queen to-day, which
+often happens.  Windsor is a delicious situation, but the town is
+scoundrel.  I have this morning got the _Gazette_ for Ben Tooke and one
+Barber a printer; it will be about three hundred pounds a year between
+them.  The other fellow was printer of the _Examiner_, which is now laid
+down. {262a}  I dined with the Secretary: we were a dozen in all, three
+Scotch lords, and Lord Peterborow.  The Duke of Hamilton {262b} would
+needs be witty, and hold up my train as I walked upstairs.  It is an ill
+circumstance that on Sundays much company always meet at the great
+tables.  Lord Treasurer told at Court what I said to Mr. Secretary on
+this occasion.  The Secretary showed me his bill of fare, to encourage me
+to dine with him.  “Poh,” said I, “show me a bill of company, for I value
+not your dinner.”  See how this is all blotted, {262c} I can write no
+more here, but to tell you I love MD dearly, and God bless them.
+
+30.  In my conscience, I fear I shall have the gout.  I sometimes feel
+pains about my feet and toes: I never drank till within these two years,
+and I did it to cure my head.  I often sit evenings with some of these
+people, and drink in my turn; but I am now resolved to drink ten times
+less than before; but they advise me to let what I drink be all wine, and
+not to put water to it.  Tooke and the printer stayed to-day to finish
+their affair, and treated me and two of the Under Secretaries upon their
+getting the _Gazette_.  Then I went to see Lord Treasurer, and chid him
+for not taking notice of me at Windsor.  He said he kept a place for me
+yesterday at dinner, and expected me there; but I was glad I did not go,
+because the Duke of Buckingham was there, and that would have made us
+acquainted; which I have no mind to.  However, we appointed to sup at Mr.
+Masham’s, and there stayed till past one o’clock; and that is late,
+sirrahs: and I have much business.
+
+31.  I have sent a noble haunch of venison this afternoon to Mrs.
+Vanhomrigh: I wish you had it, sirrahs.  I dined gravely with my landlord
+the Secretary.  The Queen was abroad to-day in order to hunt; but,
+finding it disposed to rain, she kept in her coach; she hunts in a chaise
+with one horse, which she drives herself, and drives furiously, like
+Jehu, and is a mighty hunter, like Nimrod.  Dingley has heard of Nimrod,
+but not Stella, for it is in the Bible.  I was to-day at Eton, which is
+but just cross the bridge, to see my Lord Kerry’s son, {263} who is at
+school there.  Mr. Secretary has given me a warrant for a buck; I can’t
+send it to MD.  It is a sad thing, faith, considering how Presto loves
+MD, and how MD would love Presto’s venison for Presto’s sake.  God bless
+the two dear Wexford girls!
+
+Aug. 1.  We had for dinner the fellow of that haunch of venison I sent to
+London; ’twas mighty fat and good, and eight people at dinner; that was
+bad.  The Queen and I were going to take the air this afternoon, but not
+together; and were both hindered by a sudden rain.  Her coaches and
+chaises all went back, and the guards too; and I scoured into the
+market-place for shelter.  I intended to have walked up the finest avenue
+I ever saw, two miles long, with two rows of elms on each side.  I walked
+in the evening a little upon the terrace, and came home at eight: Mr.
+Secretary came soon after, and we were engaging in deep discourse, and I
+was endeavouring to settle some points of the greatest consequence, and
+had wormed myself pretty well into him, when his Under Secretary came in
+(who lodges in the same house with us) and interrupted all my scheme.  I
+have just left him: it is late, etc.
+
+2.  I have been now five days at Windsor, and Patrick has been drunk
+three times that I have seen, and oftener I believe.  He has lately had
+clothes that have cost me five pounds, and the dog thinks he has the
+whip-hand of me: he begins to master me; so now I am resolved to part
+with him, and will use him without the least pity.  The Secretary and I
+have been walking three or four hours to-day.  The Duchess of Shrewsbury
+{264a} asked him, was not that Dr.—Dr.— and she could not say my name in
+English, but said Dr. Presto, which is Italian for Swift.  Whimsical
+enough, as Billy Swift {264b} says.  I go to-morrow with the Secretary to
+his house at Bucklebury, twenty-five miles from hence, and return early
+on Sunday morning.  I will leave this letter behind me locked up, and
+give you an account of my journey when I return.  I had a letter
+yesterday from the Bishop of Clogher, who is coming up to his Parliament.
+Have you any correspondence with him to Wexford?  Methinks, I now long
+for a letter from you, dated Wexford, July 24, etc.  O Lord, that would
+be so pretending; {264c} and then, says you, Stella can’t write much,
+because it is bad to write when one drinks the waters; and I think, says
+you, I find myself better already, but I cannot tell yet whether it be
+the journey or the waters.  Presto is so silly to-night; yes he be; but
+Presto loves MD dearly, as hope saved.
+
+3.  Morning.  I am to go this day at noon, as I told you, to Bucklebury:
+we dine at twelve, and expect to be there in four hours.  I cannot bid
+you good-night now, because I shall be twenty-five miles from this paper
+to-night, and so my journal must have a break; so good-morrow, etc.
+
+4, 5.  I dined yesterday at Bucklebury, where we lay two nights, and set
+out this morning at eight, and were here at twelve; in four hours we went
+twenty-six miles.  Mr. Secretary was a perfect country gentleman at
+Bucklebury: he smoked tobacco with one or two neighbours; he inquired
+after the wheat in such a field; he went to visit his hounds, and knew
+all their names; he and his lady saw me to my chamber just in the country
+fashion.  His house is in the midst of near three thousand pounds a year
+he had by his lady, {265} who is descended from Jack Newbury, of whom
+books and ballads are written; and there is an old picture of him in the
+house.  She is a great favourite of mine.  I lost church to-day; but I
+dressed and shaved, and went to Court, and would not dine with the
+Secretary, but engaged myself to a private dinner with Mr. Lewis, and one
+friend more.  We go to London to-morrow; for Lord Dartmouth, the other
+Secretary, is come, and they are here their weeks by turns.
+
+6.  Lord Treasurer comes every Saturday to Windsor, and goes away on
+Monday or Tuesday.  I was with him this morning at his levee, for one
+cannot see him otherwise here, he is so hurried: we had some talk; and I
+told him I would stay this week at Windsor by myself, where I can have
+more leisure to do some business that concerns them.  Lord Treasurer and
+the Secretary thought to mortify me; for they told me they had been
+talking a great deal of me to-day to the Queen, and she said she had
+never heard of me.  I told them that was their fault, and not hers, etc.,
+and so we laughed.  I dined with the Secretary, and let him go to London
+at five without me; and here am I alone in the Prebendary’s house, which
+Mr. Secretary has taken; only Mr. Lewis is in my neighbourhood, and we
+shall be good company.  The Vice-Chamberlain, {266a} and Mr. Masham, and
+the Green Cloth, {266b} have promised me dinners.  I shall want but four
+till Mr. Secretary returns.  We have a music-meeting in our town
+to-night.  I went to the rehearsal of it, and there was Margarita, {266c}
+and her sister, and another drab, and a parcel of fiddlers: I was weary,
+and would not go to the meeting, which I am sorry for, because I heard it
+was a great assembly.  Mr. Lewis came from it, and sat with me till just
+now; and ’tis late.
+
+7.  I can do no business, I fear, because Mr. Lewis, who has nothing or
+little to do here, sticks close to me.  I dined to-day with the gentlemen
+ushers, among scurvy company; but the Queen was hunting the stag till
+four this afternoon, and she drove in her chaise above forty miles, and
+it was five before we went to dinner.  Here are fine walks about this
+town.  I sometimes walk up the avenue.
+
+8.  There was a Drawing-room to-day at Court; but so few company, that
+the Queen sent for us into her bed-chamber, where we made our bows, and
+stood about twenty of us round the room, while she looked at us round
+with her fan in her mouth, and once a minute said about three words to
+some that were nearest her, and then she was told dinner was ready, and
+went out.  I dined at the Green Cloth, by Mr. Scarborow’s {266d}
+invitation, who is in waiting.  It is much the best table in England, and
+costs the Queen a thousand pounds a month while she is at Windsor or
+Hampton Court, and is the only mark of magnificence or hospitality I can
+see in the Queen’s family: it is designed to entertain foreign Ministers,
+and people of quality, who come to see the Queen, and have no place to
+dine at.
+
+9.  Mr. Coke, the Vice-Chamberlain, made me a long visit this morning,
+and invited me to dinner; but the toast, his lady, {267a} was
+unfortunately engaged to Lady Sunderland. {267b}  Lord Treasurer stole
+here last night, but did not lie at his lodgings in the Castle; and,
+after seeing the Queen, went back again.  I just drank a dish of
+chocolate with him.  I fancy I shall have reason to be angry with him
+very soon; but what care I?  I believe I shall die with Ministries in my
+debt.—This night I received a certain letter from a place called Wexford,
+from two dear naughty girls of my acquaintance; but, faith, I will not
+answer it here, no in troth.  I will send this to Mr. Reading, supposing
+it will find you returned; and I hope better for the waters.
+
+10.  Mr. Vice-Chamberlain lent me his horses to ride about and see the
+country this morning.  Dr. Arbuthnot, the Queen’s physician and
+favourite, went out with me to show me the places: we went a little after
+the Queen, and overtook Miss Forester, {267c} a maid of honour, on her
+palfrey, taking the air; we made her go along with us.  We saw a place
+they have made for a famous horse-race to-morrow, where the Queen will
+come.  We met the Queen coming back, and Miss Forester stood, like us,
+with her hat off while the Queen went by.  The Doctor and I left the lady
+where we found her, but under other conductors; and we dined at a little
+place he has taken, about a mile off.—When I came back I found Mr.
+Scarborow had sent all about to invite me to the Green Cloth, and
+lessened his company on purpose to make me easy.  It is very obliging,
+and will cost me thanks.  Much company is come to town this evening, to
+see to-morrow’s race.  I was tired with riding a trotting mettlesome
+horse a dozen miles, having not been on horseback this twelvemonth.  And
+Miss Forester did not make it easier; she is a silly true maid of honour,
+and I did not like her, although she be a toast, and was dressed like a
+man. {268a}
+
+11.  I will send this letter to-day.  I expect the Secretary by noon.  I
+will not go to the race unless I can get room in some coach.  It is now
+morning.  I must rise, and fold up and seal my letter.  Farewell, and God
+preserve dearest MD.
+
+I believe I shall leave this town on Monday.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXVIII.
+
+
+                                                 WINDSOR, _Aug._ 11, 1711.
+
+I SENT away my twenty-seventh this morning in an express to London, and
+directed to Mr. Reading: this shall go to your lodgings, where I reckon
+you will be returned before it reaches you.  I intended to go to the race
+{268b} to-day, but was hindered by a visit: I believe I told you so in my
+last.  I dined to-day at the Green Cloth, where everybody had been at the
+race but myself, and we were twenty in all, and very noisy company; but I
+made the Vice-Chamberlain and two friends more sit at a side table, to be
+a little quiet.  At six I went to see the Secretary, who is returned; but
+Lord Keeper sent to desire I would sup with him, where I stayed till just
+now: Lord Treasurer and Secretary were to come to us, but both failed.
+’Tis late, etc.
+
+12.  I was this morning to visit Lord Keeper, who made me reproaches that
+I had never visited him at Windsor.  He had a present sent him of
+delicious peaches, and he was champing and champing, but I durst not eat
+one; I wished Dingley had some of them, for poor Stella can no more eat
+fruit than Presto.  Dilly Ashe is come to Windsor; and after church I
+carried him up to the drawing-room, and talked to the Keeper and
+Treasurer, on purpose to show them to him; and he saw the Queen and
+several great lords, and the Duchess of Montagu; {269a} he was mighty
+happy, and resolves to fill a letter to the Bishop. {269b}  My friend
+Lewis and I dined soberly with Dr. Adams, {269c} the only neighbour
+prebendary.  One of the prebendaries here is lately a peer, by the death
+of his father.  He is now Lord Willoughby of Broke, {269d} and will sit
+in the House of Lords with his gown.  I supped to-night at Masham’s with
+Lord Treasurer, Mr. Secretary, and Prior.  The Treasurer made us stay
+till twelve, before he came from the Queen, and ’tis now past two.
+
+13.  I reckoned upon going to London to-day; but by an accident the
+Cabinet Council did not sit last night, and sat to-day, so we go
+to-morrow at six in the morning.  I missed the race to-day by coming out
+too late, when everybody’s coach was gone, and ride I would not: I felt
+my last riding three days after.  We had a dinner to-day at the
+Secretary’s lodgings without him: Mr. Hare, {269e} his Under Secretary,
+Mr. Lewis, Brigadier Sutton, {269f} and I, dined together; and I made the
+Vice-Chamberlain take a snap with us, rather than stay till five for his
+lady, who was gone to the race.  The reason why the Cabinet Council was
+not held last night was because Mr. Secretary St. John would not sit with
+your Duke of Somerset. {270a}  So to-day the Duke was forced to go to the
+race while the Cabinet was held.  We have music-meetings in our town, and
+I was at the rehearsal t’other day; but I did not value it, nor would go
+to the meeting.  Did I tell you this before?
+
+London, 14.  We came to town this day in two hours and forty minutes:
+twenty miles are nothing here.  I found a letter from the Archbishop of
+Dublin, sent me the Lord knows how.  He says some of the bishops will
+hardly believe that Lord Treasurer got the Queen to remit the
+First-Fruits before the Duke of Ormond was declared Lord Lieutenant, and
+that the bishops have written a letter to Lord Treasurer to thank him.
+He has sent me the address of the Convocation, ascribing, in good part,
+that affair to the Duke, who had less share in it than MD; for if it had
+not been for MD, I should not have been so good a solicitor.  I dined
+to-day in the City, about a little bit of mischief, with a printer.—I
+found Mrs. Vanhomrigh all in combustion, squabbling with her rogue of a
+landlord; she has left her house, and gone out of our neighbourhood a
+good way.  Her eldest daughter is come of age, and going to Ireland to
+look after her fortune, and get it in her own hands. {270b}
+
+15.  I dined to-day with Mrs. Van, who goes to-night to her new lodgings.
+I went at six to see Lord Treasurer; but his company was gone, contrary
+to custom, and he was busy, and I was forced to stay some time before I
+could see him.  We were together hardly an hour, and he went away, being
+in haste.  He desired me to dine with him on Friday, because there would
+be a friend of his that I must see: my Lord Harley told me, when he was
+gone, that it was Mrs. Masham his father meant, who is come to town to
+lie-in, and whom I never saw, though her husband is one of our Society.
+God send her a good time! her death would be a terrible thing. {271a}—Do
+you know that I have ventured all my credit with these great Ministers,
+to clear some misunderstandings betwixt them; and if there be no breach,
+I ought to have the merit of it.  ’Tis a plaguy ticklish piece of work,
+and a man hazards losing both sides.  It is a pity the world does not
+know my virtue.—I thought the clergy in Convocation in Ireland would have
+given me thanks for being their solicitor; but I hear of no such thing.
+Pray talk occasionally on that subject, and let me know what you hear.
+Do you know the greatness of my spirit, that I value their thanks not a
+rush, but at my return shall freely let all people know that it was my
+Lord Treasurer’s action, wherein the Duke of Ormond had no more share
+than a cat?  And so they may go whistle, and I’ll go sleep.
+
+16.  I was this day in the City, and dined at Pontack’s {271b} with
+Stratford, and two other merchants.  Pontack told us, although his wine
+was so good, he sold it cheaper than others; he took but seven shillings
+a flask.  Are not these pretty rates?  The books he sent for from Hamburg
+are come, but not yet got out of the custom-house.  My library will be at
+least double when I come back.  I shall go to Windsor again on Saturday,
+to meet our Society, who are to sup at Mr. Secretary’s; but I believe I
+shall return on Monday, and then I will answer your letter, that lies
+here safe underneath;—I see it; lie still: I will answer you when the
+ducks have eaten up the dirt.
+
+17.  I dined to-day at Lord Treasurer’s with Mrs. Masham, and she is
+extremely like one Mrs. Malolly, that was once my landlady in Trim.  She
+was used with mighty kindness and respect, like a favourite.  It
+signifies nothing going to this Lord Treasurer about business, although
+it be his own.  He was in haste, and desires I will come again, and dine
+with him to-morrow.  His famous lying porter is fallen sick, and they
+think he will die: I wish I had all my half-crowns again.  I believe I
+have told you he is an old Scotch fanatic, and the damn’dest liar in his
+office alive. {272a}  I have a mind to recommend Patrick to succeed him:
+I have trained him up pretty well.  I reckon for certain you are now in
+town.  The weather now begins to alter to rain.
+
+Windsor, 18.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer, and he would make me go
+with him to Windsor, although I was engaged to the Secretary, to whom I
+made my excuses: we had in the coach besides, his son and son-in-law,
+Lord Harley and Lord Dupplin, who are two of our Society, and seven of us
+met by appointment, and supped this night with the Secretary.  It was
+past nine before we got here, but a fine moonshiny night.  I shall go
+back, I believe, on Monday.  ’Tis very late.
+
+19.  The Queen did not stir out to-day, she is in a little fit of the
+gout.  I dined at Mr. Masham’s; we had none but our Society members, six
+in all, and I supped with Lord Treasurer.  The Queen has ordered twenty
+thousand pounds to go on with the building at Blenheim, which has been
+starved till now, since the change of the Ministry. {272b}  I suppose it
+is to reward his last action of getting into the French lines. {273a}
+Lord Treasurer kept me till past twelve.
+
+London, 20.  It rained terribly every step of our journey to-day: I
+returned with the Secretary after a dinner of cold meat, and went to Mrs.
+Van’s, where I sat the evening.  I grow very idle, because I have a great
+deal of business.  Tell me how you passed your time at Wexford; and are
+not you glad at heart you have got home safe to your lodgings at St.
+Mary’s, pray?  And so your friends come to visit you; and Mrs. Walls is
+much better of her eye; and the Dean is just as he used to be: and what
+does Walls say of London? ’tis a reasoning coxcomb.  And Goody Stoyte,
+and Hannah what d’ye call her; no, her name an’t Hannah, Catherine I
+mean; they were so glad to see the ladies again! and Mrs. Manley wanted a
+companion at ombre.
+
+21.  I writ to-day to the Archbishop of Dublin, and enclosed a long
+politic paper by itself.  You know the bishops are all angry (smoke the
+wax-candle drop at the bottom of this paper) I have let the world know
+the First-Fruits were got by Lord Treasurer before the Duke of Ormond was
+Governor.  I told Lord Treasurer all this, and he is very angry; but I
+pacified him again by telling him they were fools, and knew nothing of
+what passed here; but thought all was well enough if they complimented
+the Duke of Ormond.  Lord Treasurer gave me t’other day a letter of
+thanks he received from the bishops of Ireland, signed by seventeen; and
+says he will write them an answer.  The Dean of Carlisle sat with me
+to-day till three; and I went to dine with Lord Treasurer, who dined
+abroad, so did the Secretary, and I was left in the suds.  ’Twas almost
+four, and I got to Sir Matthew Dudley, who had half dined.  Thornhill,
+who killed Sir Cholmley Dering, {273b} was murdered by two men, on
+Turnham Green, last Monday night: as they stabbed him, they bid him
+remember Sir Cholmley Dering.  They had quarrelled at Hampton Court, and
+followed and stabbed him on horseback.  We have only a Grub Street paper
+of it, but I believe it is true.  I went myself through Turnham Green the
+same night, which was yesterday.
+
+22.  We have had terrible rains these two or three days.  I intended to
+dine at Lord Treasurer’s, but went to see Lady Abercorn, who is come to
+town, and my lord; and I dined with them, and visited Lord Treasurer this
+evening.  His porter is mending.  I sat with my lord about three hours,
+and am come home early to be busy.  Passing by White’s Chocolate-house,
+{274a} my brother Masham called me, and told me his wife was brought to
+bed of a boy, and both very well.  (Our Society, you must know, are all
+brothers.)  Dr. Garth told us that Mr. Henley {274b} is dead of an
+apoplexy.  His brother-in-law, Earl Poulett, is gone down to the Grange,
+to take care of his funeral.  The Earl of Danby, {274c} the Duke of
+Leeds’s eldest grandson, a very hopeful young man of about twenty, is
+dead at Utrecht of the smallpox.—I long to know whether you begin to have
+any good effect by your waters.—Methinks this letter goes on slowly;
+’twill be a fortnight next Saturday since it was begun, and one side not
+filled.  O fie for shame, Presto!  Faith, I’m so tosticated to and from
+Windsor, that I know not what to say; but, faith, I’ll go to Windsor
+again on Saturday, if they ask me, not else.  So lose your money again,
+now you are come home; do, sirrah.
+
+Take your magnifying-glass, Madam Dingley.
+
+You shan’t read this, sirrah Stella; don’t read it for your life, for
+fear of your dearest eyes.
+
+There’s enough for this side; these Ministers hinder me.
+
+Pretty, dear, little, naughty, saucy MD.
+
+Silly, impudent, loggerhead Presto.
+
+23.  Dilly and I dined to-day with Lord Abercorn, and had a fine fat
+haunch of venison, that smelt rarely on one side: and after dinner Dilly
+won half a crown of me at backgammon at his lodgings, to his great
+content.  It is a scurvy empty town this melancholy season of the year;
+but I think our weather begins to mend.  The roads are as deep as in
+winter.  The grapes are sad things; but the peaches are pretty good, and
+there are some figs.  I sometimes venture to eat one, but always repent
+it.  You say nothing of the box sent half a year ago.  I wish you would
+pay me for Mrs. Walls’s tea.  Your mother is in the country, I suppose.
+Pray send me the account of MD, Madam Dingley, as it stands since
+November, {275a} that is to say, for this year (excluding the twenty
+pounds lent Stella for Wexford), for I cannot look in your letters.  I
+think I ordered that Hawkshaw’s interest should be paid to you.  When you
+think proper, I will let Parvisol know you have paid that twenty pounds,
+or part of it; and so go play with the Dean, and I will answer your
+letter to-morrow.  Good-night, sirrahs, and love Presto, and be good
+girls.
+
+24.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer, who chid me for not dining with
+him yesterday, for it seems I did not understand his invitation; and
+their Club of the Ministry dined together, and expected me.  Lord Radnor
+{275b} and I were walking the Mall this evening; and Mr. Secretary met
+us, and took a turn or two, and then stole away, and we both believed it
+was to pick up some wench; and to-morrow he will be at the Cabinet with
+the Queen: so goes the world!  Prior has been out of town these two
+months, nobody knows where, and is lately returned.  People confidently
+affirm he has been in France, and I half believe it.  It is said he was
+sent by the Ministry, and for some overtures towards a peace.  The
+Secretary pretends he knows nothing of it.  I believe your Parliament
+will be dissolved.  I have been talking about the quarrel between your
+Lords and Commons with Lord Treasurer, and did, at the request of some
+people, desire that the Queen’s answer to the Commons’ address might
+express a dislike of some principles, etc.; but was answered
+dubiously.—And so now to your letter, fair ladies.  I know drinking is
+bad; I mean writing is bad in drinking the waters; and was angry to see
+so much in Stella’s hand.  But why Dingley drinks them, I cannot imagine;
+but truly she’ll drink waters as well as Stella: why not?  I hope you now
+find the benefit of them since you are returned; pray let me know
+particularly.  I am glad you are forced upon exercise, which, I believe,
+is as good as the waters for the heart of them.  ’Tis now past the middle
+of August; so by your reckoning you are in Dublin.  It would vex me to
+the dogs that letters should miscarry between Dublin and Wexford, after
+’scaping the salt seas.  I will write no more to that nasty town in haste
+again, I warrant you.  I have been four Sundays together at Windsor, of
+which a fortnight together; but I believe I shall not go to-morrow, for I
+will not, unless the Secretary asks me.  I know all your news about the
+Mayor: it makes no noise here at all, but the quarrel of your Parliament
+does; it is so very extraordinary, and the language of the Commons so
+very pretty.  The _Examiner_ has been down this month, and was very silly
+the five or six last papers; but there is a pamphlet come out, in answer
+to a letter to the seven Lords who examined Gregg. {276a}  The Answer
+{276b} is by the real author of the _Examiner_, as I believe; for it is
+very well written.  We had Trapp’s poem on the Duke of Ormond {276c}
+printed here, and the printer sold just eleven of them.  ’Tis a dull
+piece, not half so good as Stella’s; and she is very modest to compare
+herself with such a poetaster.  I am heartily sorry for poor Mrs.
+Parnell’s {277a} death; she seemed to be an excellent good-natured young
+woman, and I believe the poor lad is much afflicted; they appeared to
+live perfectly well together.  Dilly is not tired at all with England,
+but intends to continue here a good while: he is mighty easy to be at
+distance from his two sisters-in-law.  He finds some sort of scrub
+acquaintance; goes now and then in disguise to a play; smokes his pipe;
+reads now and then a little trash, and what else the Lord knows.  I see
+him now and then; for he calls here, and the town being thin, I am less
+pestered with company than usual.  I have got rid of many of my
+solicitors, by doing nothing for them: I have not above eight or nine
+left, and I’ll be as kind to them.  Did I tell you of a knight who
+desired me to speak to Lord Treasurer to give him two thousand pounds, or
+five hundred pounds a year, until he could get something better?  I
+honestly delivered my message to the Treasurer, adding, the knight was a
+puppy, whom I would not give a groat to save from the gallows.  Cole
+Reading’s father-in-law has been two or three times at me, to recommend
+his lights to the Ministry, assuring me that a word of mine would, etc.
+Did not that dog use to speak ill of me, and profess to hate me?  He
+knows not where I lodge, for I told him I lived in the country; and I
+have ordered Patrick to deny me constantly to him.—Did the Bishop of
+London {277b} die in Wexford? poor gentleman!  Did he drink the waters?
+were you at his burial? was it a great funeral? so far from his friends!
+But he was very old: we shall all follow.  And yet it was a pity, if God
+pleased.  He was a good man; not very learned: I believe he died but
+poor.  Did he leave any charity legacies? who held up his pall? was there
+a great sight of clergy? do they design a tomb for him?—Are you sure it
+was the Bishop of London? because there is an elderly gentleman here that
+we give the same title to: or did you fancy all this in your water, as
+others do strange things in their wine?  They say these waters trouble
+the head, and make people imagine what never came to pass.  Do you make
+no more of killing a Bishop? are these your Whiggish tricks?—Yes, yes, I
+see you are in a fret.  O, faith, says you, saucy Presto, I’ll break your
+head; what, can’t one report what one hears, without being made a jest
+and a laughing-stock?  Are these your English tricks, with a murrain?
+And Sacheverell will be the next Bishop?  He would be glad of an addition
+of two hundred pounds a year to what he has, and that is more than they
+will give him, for aught I see.  He hates the new Ministry mortally, and
+they hate him, and pretend to despise him too.  They will not allow him
+to have been the occasion of the late change; at least some of them will
+not: but my Lord Keeper owned it to me the other day.  No, Mr. Addison
+does not go to Ireland this year: he pretended he would; but he is gone
+to Bath with Pastoral Philips, for his eyes.—So now I have run over your
+letter; and I think this shall go to-morrow, which will be just a
+fortnight from the last, and bring things to the old form again, after
+your rambles to Wexford, and mine to Windsor.  Are there not many literal
+faults in my letters?  I never read them over, and I fancy there are.
+What do you do then? do you guess my meaning, or are you acquainted with
+my manner of mistaking?  I lost my handkerchief in the Mall to-night with
+Lord Radnor; but I made him walk with me to find it, and find it I did
+not.  Tisdall {278} (that lodges with me) and I have had no conversation,
+nor do we pull off our hats in the streets.  There is a cousin of his (I
+suppose,) a young parson, that lodges in the house too; a handsome,
+genteel fellow.  Dick Tighe {279a} and his wife lodged over against us;
+and he has been seen, out of our upper windows, beating her two or three
+times: they are both gone to Ireland, but not together; and he solemnly
+vows never to live with her.  Neighbours do not stick to say that she has
+a tongue: in short, I am told she is the most urging, provoking devil
+that ever was born; and he a hot, whiffling {279b} puppy, very apt to
+resent.  I’ll keep this bottom till to-morrow: I’m sleepy.
+
+25.  I was with the Secretary this morning, who was in a mighty hurry,
+and went to Windsor in a chariot with Lord Keeper; so I was not invited,
+and am forced to stay at home, but not at all against my will; for I
+could have gone, and would not.  I dined in the City with one of my
+printers, for whom I got the _Gazette_, and am come home early; and have
+nothing to say to you more, but finish this letter, and not send it by
+the bellman.  Days grow short, and the weather grows bad, and the town is
+splenetic, and things are so oddly contrived that I cannot be absent;
+otherwise I would go for a few days to Oxford, as I promised.—They say it
+is certain that Prior has been in France, {279c} nobody doubts it: I had
+not time to ask the Secretary, he was in such haste.  Well, I will take
+my leave of dearest MD for a while; for I must begin my next letter
+to-night: consider that, young women; and pray be merry, and good girls,
+and love Presto.  There is now but one business the Ministry want me for,
+and when that is done, I will take my leave of them.  I never got a penny
+from them, nor expect it.  In my opinion, some things stand very
+ticklish; I dare say nothing at this distance.  Farewell, dear sirrahs,
+dearest lives: there is peace and quiet with MD, and nowhere else.  They
+have not leisure here to think of small things, which may ruin them; and
+I have been forward enough.  Farewell again, dearest rogues; I am never
+happy but when I write or think of MD.  I have enough of Courts and
+Ministries, and wish I were at Laracor; and if I could with honour come
+away this moment, I would.  Bernage {280} came to see me to-day; he is
+just landed from Portugal, and come to raise recruits; he looks very
+well, and seems pleased with his station and manner of life.  He never
+saw London nor England before; he is ravished with Kent, which was his
+first prospect when he landed.  Farewell again, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXIX.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Aug._ 25, 1711.
+
+I HAVE got a pretty small gilt sheet of paper, to write to MD.  I have
+this moment sent my 28th by Patrick, who tells me he has put it in the
+post-office; ’tis directed to your lodgings: if it wants more particular
+direction, you must set me right.  It is now a solar month and two days
+since the date of your last, N. 18; and I reckon you are now quiet at
+home, and thinking to begin your 19th, which will be full of your quarrel
+between the two Houses, all which I know already.  Where shall I dine
+to-morrow? can you tell?  Mrs. Vanhomrigh boards now, and cannot invite
+one; and there I used to dine when I was at a loss: and all my friends
+are gone out of town, and your town is now at the fullest, with your
+Parliament and Convocation.  But let me alone, sirrahs; for Presto is
+going to be very busy; not Presto, but the other I.
+
+26.  People have so left the town that I am at a loss for a dinner.  It
+is a long time since I have been at London upon a Sunday; and the
+Ministers are all at Windsor.  It cost me eighteenpence in coach-hire
+before I could find a place to dine in.  I went to Frankland’s, {281a}
+and he was abroad, and the drab his wife looked out at window, and bowed
+to me without inviting me up: so I dined with Mr. Coote, {281b} my Lord
+Mountrath’s brother; my lord is with you in Ireland.  This morning at
+five my Lord Jersey {281c} died of the gout in his stomach, or apoplexy,
+or both: he was abroad yesterday, and his death was sudden.  He was
+Chamberlain to King William, and a great favourite, turned out by the
+Queen as a Tory, and stood now fair to be Privy Seal; and by his death
+will, I suppose, make that matter easier, which has been a very stubborn
+business at Court, as I have been informed.  I never remember so many
+people of quality to have died in so short a time.
+
+27.  I went to-day into the City, to thank Stratford for my books, and
+dine with him, and settle my affairs of my money in the Bank, and receive
+a bill for Mrs. Wesley for some things I am to buy for her; and the d— a
+one of all these could I do.  The merchants were all out of town, and I
+was forced to go to a little hedge place for my dinner.  May my enemies
+live here in summer! and yet I am so unlucky that I cannot possibly be
+out of the way at this juncture.  People leave the town so late in
+summer, and return so late in winter, that they have almost inverted the
+seasons.  It is autumn this good while in St. James’s Park; the limes
+have been losing their leaves, and those remaining on the trees are all
+parched: I hate this season, where everything grows worse and worse.  The
+only good thing of it is the fruit, and that I dare not eat.  Had you any
+fruit at Wexford?  A few cherries, and durst not eat them.  I do not hear
+we have yet got a new Privy Seal.  The Whigs whisper that our new
+Ministry differ among themselves, and they begin to talk out Mr.
+Secretary: they have some reasons for their whispers, although I thought
+it was a greater secret.  I do not much like the posture of things; I
+always apprehended that any falling out would ruin them, and so I have
+told them several times.  The Whigs are mighty full of hopes at present;
+and whatever is the matter, all kind of stocks fall.  I have not yet
+talked with the Secretary about Prior’s journey.  I should be apt to
+think it may foretell a peace, and that is all we have to preserve us.
+The Secretary is not come from Windsor, but I expect him to-morrow.  Burn
+all politics!
+
+28.  We begin to have fine weather, and I walked to-day to Chelsea, and
+dined with the Dean of Carlisle, who is laid up with the gout.  It is now
+fixed that he is to be Dean of Christ Church in Oxford.  I was advising
+him to use his interest to prevent any misunderstanding between our
+Ministers; but he is too wise to meddle, though he fears the thing and
+the consequences as much as I.  He will get into his own warm, quiet
+deanery, and leave them to themselves; and he is in the right.—When I
+came home to-night, I found a letter from Mr. Lewis, who is now at
+Windsor; and in it, forsooth, another which looked like Presto’s hand;
+and what should it be but a 19th from MD?  O, faith, I ’scaped narrowly,
+for I sent my 28th but on Saturday; and what should I have done if I had
+two letters to answer at once?  I did not expect another from Wexford,
+that is certain.  Well, I must be contented; but you are dear saucy
+girls, for all that, to write so soon again, faith; an’t you?
+
+29.  I dined to-day with Lord Abercorn, and took my leave of them: they
+set out to-morrow for Chester, and, I believe, will now fix in Ireland.
+They have made a pretty good journey of it: his eldest son {282} is
+married to a lady with ten thousand pounds; and his second son {283a}
+has, t’other day, got a prize in the lottery of four thousand pounds,
+beside two small ones of two hundred pounds each: nay, the family was so
+fortunate, that my lord bestowing one ticket, which is a hundred pounds,
+to one of his servants, who had been his page, the young fellow got a
+prize, which has made it another hundred.  I went in the evening to Lord
+Treasurer, who desires I will dine with him to-morrow, when he will show
+me the answer he designs to return to the letter of thanks from your
+bishops in Ireland.  The Archbishop of Dublin desired me to get myself
+mentioned in the answer which my lord would send; but I sent him word I
+would not open my lips to my lord upon it.  He says it would convince the
+bishops of what I have affirmed, that the First-Fruits were granted
+before the Duke of Ormond was declared Governor; and I writ to him that I
+would not give a farthing to convince them.  My Lord Treasurer began a
+health to my Lord Privy Seal: Prior punned, and said it was so privy, he
+knew not who it was; but I fancy they have fixed it all, and we shall
+know to-morrow.  But what care you who is Privy Seal, saucy sluttikins?
+
+30.  When I went out this morning, I was surprised with the news that the
+Bishop of Bristol is made Lord Privy Seal.  You know his name is
+Robinson, {283b} and that he was many years Envoy in Sweden.  All the
+friends of the present Ministry are extremely glad, and the clergy above
+the rest.  The Whigs will fret to death to see a civil employment given
+to a clergyman.  It was a very handsome thing in my Lord Treasurer, and
+will bind the Church to him for ever.  I dined with him to-day, but he
+had not written his letter; {283c} but told me he would not offer to send
+it without showing it to me: he thought that would not be just, since I
+was so deeply concerned in the affair.  We had much company: Lord Rivers,
+Mar, {284a} and Kinnoull, {284b} Mr. Secretary, George Granville, and
+Masham: the last has invited me to the christening of his son to-morrow
+se’ennight; and on Saturday I go to Windsor with Mr. Secretary.
+
+31.  Dilly and I walked to-day to Kensington to Lady Mountjoy, who
+invited us to dinner.  He returned soon, to go to a play, it being the
+last that will be acted for some time: he dresses himself like a beau,
+and no doubt makes a fine figure.  I went to visit some people at
+Kensington: Ophy Butler’s wife {284c} there lies very ill of an ague,
+which is a very common disease here, and little known in Ireland. I am
+apt to think we shall soon have a peace, by the little words I hear
+thrown out by the Ministry.  I have just thought of a project to bite the
+town.  I have told you that it is now known that Mr. Prior has been
+lately in France.  I will make a printer of my own sit by me one day, and
+I will dictate to him a formal relation of Prior’s journey, {284d} with
+several particulars, all pure invention; and I doubt not but it will
+take.
+
+Sept. 1.  Morning.  I go to-day to Windsor with Mr. Secretary; and Lord
+Treasurer has promised to bring me back.  The weather has been fine for
+some time, and I believe we shall have a great deal of dust.—At night.
+Windsor.  The Secretary and I dined to-day at Parson’s Green, at my Lord
+Peterborow’s house, who has left it and his gardens to the Secretary
+during his absence.  It is the finest garden I have ever seen about this
+town; and abundance of hot walls for grapes, where they are in great
+plenty, and ripening fast.  I durst not eat any fruit but one fig; but I
+brought a basket full to my friend Lewis here at Windsor.  Does Stella
+never eat any? what, no apricots at Donnybrook! nothing but claret and
+ombre!  I envy people maunching and maunching peaches and grapes, and I
+not daring to eat a bit.  My head is pretty well, only a sudden turn any
+time makes me giddy for a moment, and sometimes it feels very stuffed;
+but if it grows no worse, I can bear it very well.  I take all
+opportunities of walking; and we have a delicious park here just joining
+to the Castle, and an avenue in the great park very wide and two miles
+long, set with a double row of elms on each side.  Were you ever at
+Windsor?  I was once, a great while ago; but had quite forgotten it.
+
+2.  The Queen has the gout, and did not come to chapel, nor stir out from
+her chamber, but received the sacrament there, as she always does the
+first Sunday in the month.  Yet we had a great Court; and, among others,
+I saw your Ingoldsby, {285a} who, seeing me talk very familiarly with the
+Keeper, Treasurer, etc., came up and saluted me, and began a very
+impertinent discourse about the siege of Bouchain.  I told him I could
+not answer his questions, but I would bring him one that should; so I
+went and fetched Sutton (who brought over the express about a month ago),
+and delivered him to the General, and bid him answer his questions; and
+so I left them together.  Sutton after some time comes back in a rage,
+finds me with Lord Rivers and Masham, and there complains of the trick I
+had played him, and swore he had been plagued to death with Ingoldsby’s
+talk.  But he told me Ingoldsby asked him what I meant by bringing him;
+so, I suppose, he smoked me a little.  So we laughed, etc.  My Lord
+Willoughby, {285b} who is one of the chaplains, and Prebendary of
+Windsor, read prayers last night to the family; and the Bishop of
+Bristol, who is Dean of Windsor, officiated last night at the Cathedral.
+This they do to be popular; and it pleases mightily.  I dined with Mr.
+Masham, because he lets me have a select company: for the Court here have
+got by the end a good thing I said to the Secretary some weeks ago.  He
+showed me his bill of fare, to tempt me to dine with him.  “Poh,” said I,
+“I value not your bill of fare; give me your bill of company.”  Lord
+Treasurer was mightily pleased, and told it everybody as a notable thing.
+I reckon upon returning to-morrow: they say the Bishop will then have the
+Privy Seal delivered him at a great Council.
+
+3.  Windsor still.  The Council was held so late to-day that I do not go
+back to town till to-morrow.  The Bishop was sworn Privy Councillor, and
+had the Privy Seal given him: and now the patents are passed for those
+who were this long time to be made lords or earls.  Lord Raby, {286} who
+is Earl of Strafford, is on Thursday to marry a namesake of Stella’s; the
+daughter of Sir H. Johnson in the City; he has three-score thousand
+pounds with her, ready money; besides the rest at the father’s death.  I
+have got my friend Stratford to be one of the directors of the South Sea
+Company, who were named to-day.  My Lord Treasurer did it for me a month
+ago; and one of those whom I got to be printer of the _Gazette_ I am
+recommending to be printer to the same company.  He treated Mr. Lewis and
+me to-day at dinner.  I supped last night and this with Lord Treasurer,
+Keeper, etc., and took occasion to mention the printer.  I said it was
+the same printer whom my Lord Treasurer has appointed to print for the
+South Sea Company.  He denied, and I insisted on it; and I got the laugh
+on my side.
+
+London, 4.  I came as far as Brentford in Lord Rivers’s chariot, who had
+business with Lord Treasurer; then I went into Lord Treasurer’s.  We
+stopped at Kensington, where Lord Treasurer went to see Mrs. Masham, who
+is now what they call in the straw.  We got to town by three, and I
+lighted at Lord Treasurer’s, who commanded me not to stir: but I was not
+well; and when he went up, I begged the young lord to excuse me, and so
+went into the City by water, where I could be easier, and dined with the
+printer, and dictated to him some part of Prior’s _Journey to France_.  I
+walked from the City, for I take all occasions of exercise.  Our journey
+was horridly dusty.
+
+5.  When I went out to-day, I found it had rained mightily in the night,
+and the streets were as dirty as winter: it is very refreshing after ten
+days dry.—I went into the City, and dined with Stratford, thanked him for
+his books, gave him joy of his being director, of which he had the first
+notice by a letter from me.  I ate sturgeon, and it lies on my stomach.
+I almost finished Prior’s _Journey_ at the printer’s; and came home
+pretty late, with Patrick at my heels.
+
+7.  Morning.  But what shall we do about this letter of MD’s, N. 19?  Not
+a word answered yet, and so much paper spent!  I cannot do anything in
+it, sweethearts, till night.—At night.  O Lord, O Lord! the greatest
+disgrace that ever was has happened to Presto.  What do you think? but,
+when I was going out this forenoon a letter came from MD, N. 20, dated
+Dublin.  O dear, O dear!  O sad, O sad!—Now I have two letters together
+to answer: here they are, lying together.  But I will only answer the
+first; for I came in late.  I dined with my friend Lewis at his lodgings,
+and walked at six to Kensington to Mrs. Masham’s son’s christening.  It
+was very private; nobody there but my Lord Treasurer, his son and
+son-in-law, that is to say, Lord Harley and Lord Dupplin, and Lord Rivers
+and I.  The Dean of Rochester {287a} christened the child, but soon went
+away.  Lord Treasurer and Lord Rivers were godfathers; and Mrs. Hill,
+{287b} Mrs. Masham’s sister, godmother.  The child roared like a bull,
+and I gave Mrs. Masham joy of it; and she charged me to take care of my
+nephew, because, Mr. Masham being a brother of our Society, his son, you
+know, is consequently a nephew.  Mrs. Masham sat up dressed in bed, but
+not, as they do in Ireland, with all smooth about her, as if she was cut
+off in the middle; for you might see the counterpane (what d’ye call it?)
+rise about her hips and body.  There is another name of the counterpane;
+and you will laugh now, sirrahs.  George Granville came in at supper, and
+we stayed till eleven; and Lord Treasurer set me down at my lodging in
+Suffolk Street.  Did I ever tell you that Lord Treasurer hears ill with
+the left ear, just as I do?  He always turns the right, and his servants
+whisper him at that only.  I dare not tell him that I am so too, for fear
+he should think I counterfeited, to make my court.
+
+6.  You must read this before the other; for I mistook, and forgot to
+write yesterday’s journal, it was so insignificant.  I dined with Dr.
+Cockburn, and sat the evening with Lord Treasurer till ten o’clock.  On
+Thursdays he has always a large select company, and expects me.  So
+good-night for last night, etc.
+
+8.  Morning.  I go to Windsor with Lord Treasurer to-day, and will leave
+this behind me, to be sent to the post.  And now let us hear what says
+the first letter, N. 19.  You are still at Wexford, as you say, Madam
+Dingley.  I think no letter from me ever yet miscarried.  And so
+Inish-Corthy, {288a} and the river Slainy; fine words those in a lady’s
+mouth.  Your hand like Dingley’s, you scambling, {288b} scattering
+sluttikin!  _Yes_, _mighty like indeed_, _is not it_? {288c}  Pisshh, do
+not talk of writing or reading till your eyes are well, and long well;
+only I would have Dingley read sometimes to you, that you may not lose
+the desire of it.  God be thanked, that the ugly numbing is gone!  Pray
+use exercise when you go to town.  What game is that ombra which Dr.
+Elwood {288d} and you play at? is it the Spanish game ombre?  Your
+card-purse? you a card-purse! you a fiddlestick.  You have luck indeed;
+and luck in a bag.  What a devil! is that eight-shilling tea-kettle
+copper, or tin japanned?  It is like your Irish politeness, raffling for
+tea-kettles.  What a splutter you keep, to convince me that Walls has no
+taste!  My head continues pretty well.  Why do you write, dear sirrah
+Stella, when you find your eyes so weak that you cannot see? what comfort
+is there in reading what you write, when one knows that?  So Dingley
+cannot write, because of the clutter of new company come to Wexford!  I
+suppose the noise of their hundred horses disturbs you; or do you lie in
+one gallery, as in an hospital?  What! you are afraid of losing in Dublin
+the acquaintance you have got in Wexford, and chiefly the Bishop of
+Raphoe, {289a} an old, doting, perverse coxcomb?  Twenty at a time at
+breakfast.  That is like five pounds at a time, when it was never but
+once.  I doubt, Madam Dingley, you are apt to lie in your travels, though
+not so bad as Stella; she tells thumpers, as I shall prove in my next, if
+I find this receives encouragement.—So Dr. Elwood says there are a world
+of pretty things in my works.  A pox on his praises! an enemy here would
+say more.  The Duke of Buckingham would say as much, though he and I are
+terribly fallen out; and the great men are perpetually inflaming me
+against him: they bring me all he says of me, and, I believe, make it
+worse out of roguery.—No, ’tis not your pen is bewitched, Madam Stella,
+but your old _scrawling_, _splay-foot pot-hooks_, _s_, _s_, {289b} ay
+that’s it: there the s, s, s, there, there, that’s exact.  Farewell, etc.
+
+Our fine weather is gone; and I doubt we shall have a rainy journey
+to-day.  Faith, ’tis shaving-day, and I have much to do.  When Stella
+says her pen was bewitched, it was only because there was a hair in it.
+You know, the fellow they call God-help-it had the same thoughts of his
+wife, and for the same reason.  I think this is very well observed, and I
+unfolded the letter to tell you it.
+
+Cut off those two notes above; and see the nine pounds indorsed, and
+receive the other; and send me word how my accounts stand, that they may
+be adjusted by Nov. 1. {290a}  Pray be very particular; but the twenty
+pounds I lend you is not to be included: so make no blunder.  I won’t
+wrong you, nor you shan’t wrong me; that is the short.  O Lord, how stout
+Presto is of late!  But he loves MD more than his life a thousand times,
+for all his stoutness; tell them that; and that I’ll swear it, as hope
+saved, ten millions of times, etc. etc.
+
+I open my letter once more, to tell Stella that if she does not use
+exercise after her waters, it will lose all the effects of them: I should
+not live if I did not take all opportunities of walking.  Pray, pray, do
+this, to oblige poor Presto.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXX.
+
+
+                                                 WINDSOR, _Sept._ 8, 1711.
+
+I MADE the coachman stop, and put in my twenty-ninth at the post-office
+at two o’clock to-day, as I was going to Lord Treasurer, with whom I
+dined, and came here by a quarter-past eight; but the moon shone, and so
+we were not in much danger of overturning; which, however, he values not
+a straw, and only laughs when I chide at him for it.  There was nobody
+but he and I, and we supped together, with Mr. Masham, and Dr. Arbuthnot,
+the Queen’s favourite physician, a Scotchman.  I could not keep myself
+awake after supper, but did all I was able to disguise it, and thought I
+came off clear; but, at parting, he told me I had got my nap already.  It
+is now one o’clock; but he loves sitting up late.
+
+9.  The Queen is still in the gout, but recovering: she saw company in
+her bed-chamber after church; but the crowd was so great, I could not see
+her.  I dined with my brother Sir William Wyndham, {290b} and some others
+of our Society, to avoid the great tables on Sunday at Windsor, which I
+hate.  The usual company supped to-night at Lord Treasurer’s, which was
+Lord Keeper, Mr. Secretary, George Granville, Masham, Arbuthnot, and I.
+But showers have hindered me from walking to-day, and that I do not
+love.—Noble fruit, and I dare not eat a bit.  I ate one fig to-day, and
+sometimes a few mulberries, because it is said they are wholesome, and
+you know a good name does much.  I shall return to town to-morrow, though
+I thought to have stayed a week, to be at leisure for something I am
+doing.  But I have put it off till next; for I shall come here again on
+Saturday, when our Society are to meet at supper at Mr. Secretary’s.  My
+life is very regular here: on Sunday morning I constantly visit Lord
+Keeper, and sup at Lord Treasurer’s with the same set of company.  I was
+not sleepy to-night; I resolved I would not; yet it is past midnight at
+this present writing.
+
+London, 10.  Lord Treasurer and Masham and I left Windsor at three this
+afternoon: we dropped Masham at Kensington with his lady, and got home by
+six.  It was seven before we sat down to dinner, and I stayed till past
+eleven.  Patrick came home with the Secretary: I am more plagued with
+Patrick and my portmantua than with myself.  I forgot to tell you that
+when I went to Windsor on Saturday I overtook Lady Giffard and Mrs.
+Fenton {291a} in a chariot, going, I suppose, to Sheen.  I was then in a
+chariot too, of Lord Treasurer’s brother, who had business with the
+Treasurer; and my lord came after, and overtook me at Turnham Green, four
+miles from London; and then the brother went back, and I went in the
+coach with Lord Treasurer: so it happened that those people saw me, and
+not with Lord Treasurer.  Mrs. F. was to see me about a week ago; and
+desired I would get her son into the Charter-house.
+
+11.  This morning the printer sent me an account of Prior’s _Journey_;
+{291b} it makes a twopenny pamphlet.  I suppose you will see it, for I
+dare engage it will run; ’tis a formal, grave lie, from the beginning to
+the end.  I writ all but about the last page; that I dictated, and the
+printer writ.  Mr. Secretary sent to me to dine where he did; it was at
+Prior’s: when I came in, Prior showed me the pamphlet, seemed to be
+angry, and said, “Here is our English liberty!”  I read some of it, and
+said I liked it mightily, and envied the rogue the thought; for, had it
+come into my head, I should have certainly done it myself.  We stayed at
+Prior’s till past ten; and then the Secretary received a packet with the
+news of Bouchain being taken, for which the guns will go off to-morrow.
+Prior owned his having been in France, for it was past denying: it seems
+he was discovered by a rascal at Dover, who had positive orders to let
+him pass.  I believe we shall have a peace.
+
+12.  It is terrible rainy weather, and has cost me three shillings in
+coaches and chairs to-day, yet I was dirty into the bargain.  I was three
+hours this morning with the Secretary about some business of moment, and
+then went into the City to dine.  The printer tells me he sold yesterday
+a thousand of Prior’s _Journey_, and had printed five hundred more.  It
+will do rarely, I believe, and is a pure bite.  And what is MD doing all
+this while? got again to their cards, their Walls, their deans, their
+Stoytes, and their claret?  Pray present my service to Mr. Stoyte and
+Catherine.  Tell Goody Stoyte she owes me a world of dinners, and I will
+shortly come over and demand them.—Did I tell you of the Archbishop of
+Dublin’s last letter?  He had been saying, in several of his former, that
+he would shortly write to me something about myself; and it looked as if
+he intended something for me: at last out it comes, and consists of two
+parts.  First, he advises me to strike in for some preferment now I have
+friends; and secondly, he advises me, since I have parts, and learning,
+and a happy pen, to think of some new subject in divinity not handled by
+others, which I should manage better than anybody.  A rare spark this,
+with a pox! but I shall answer him as rarely.  Methinks he should have
+invited me over, and given me some hopes or promises.  But hang him! and
+so good-night, etc.
+
+13.  It rained most furiously all this morning till about twelve, and
+sometimes thundered; I trembled for my shillings, but it cleared up, and
+I made a shift to get a walk in the Park, and then went with the
+Secretary to dine with Lord Treasurer.  Upon Thursdays there is always a
+select company: we had the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord Rivers, the two
+Secretaries, Mr. Granville, and Mr. Prior.  Half of them went to Council
+at six; but Rivers, Granville, Prior, and I, stayed till eight.  Prior
+was often affecting to be angry at the account of his journey to Paris;
+and indeed the two last pages, which the printer got somebody to add,
+{293a} are so romantic, they spoil all the rest.  Dilly Ashe pretended to
+me that he was only going to Oxford and Cambridge for a fortnight, and
+then would come back.  I could not see him as I appointed t’other day;
+but some of his friends tell me he took leave of them as going to
+Ireland; and so they say at his lodging.  I believe the rogue was ashamed
+to tell me so, because I advised him to stay the winter, and he said he
+would.  I find he had got into a good set of scrub acquaintance, and I
+thought passed his time very merrily; but I suppose he languished after
+Balderig, and the claret of Dublin; and, after all, I think he is in the
+right; for he can eat, drink, and converse better there than here.
+Bernage was with me this morning: he calls now and then; he is in
+terrible fear of a peace.  He said he never had his health so well as in
+Portugal.  He is a favourite of his Colonel.
+
+14.  I was mortified enough to-day, not knowing where in the world to
+dine, the town is so empty.  I met H. Coote, {293b} and thought he would
+invite me, but he did not: Sir John Stanley did not come into my head; so
+I took up with Mrs. Van, and dined with her and her damned landlady, who,
+I believe, by her eyebrows, is a bawd.  This evening I met Addison and
+Pastoral Philips in the Park, and supped with them at Addison’s lodgings:
+we were very good company, and I yet know no man half so agreeable to me
+as he is.  I sat with them till twelve, so you may think it is late,
+young women; however, I would have some little conversation with MD
+before your Presto goes to bed, because it makes me sleep, and dream, and
+so forth.  Faith, this letter goes on slowly enough, sirrahs; but I
+cannot write much at a time till you are quite settled after your
+journey, you know, and have gone all your visits, and lost your money at
+ombre.  You never play at chess now, Stella.  That puts me in mind of
+Dick Tighe; I fancy I told you he used to beat his wife here; and she
+deserved it; and he resolves to part with her; and they went to Ireland
+in different coaches.  O Lord, I said all this before, I am sure.  Go to
+bed, sirrahs.
+
+Windsor, 15.  I made the Secretary stop at Brentford, because we set out
+at two this afternoon, and fasting would not agree with me.  I only
+designed to eat a bit of bread-and-butter; but he would light, and we ate
+roast beef like dragons.  And he made me treat him and two more
+gentlemen; faith, it cost me a guinea.  I do not like such jesting, yet I
+was mightily pleased with it too.  To-night our Society met at the
+Secretary’s: there were nine of us; and we have chosen a new member, the
+Earl of Jersey, {294a} whose father died lately.  ’Tis past one, and I
+have stolen away.
+
+16.  I design to stay here this week by myself, about some business that
+lies on my hands, and will take up a great deal of time.  Dr. Adams,
+{294b} one of the canons, invited me to-day to dinner.  The tables are so
+full here on Sunday that it is hard to dine with a few, and Dr. Adams
+knows I love to do so; which is very obliging.  The Queen saw company in
+her bed-chamber; she looks very well, but she sat down.  I supped with
+Lord Treasurer as usual, and stayed till past one as usual, and with our
+usual company, except Lord Keeper, who did not come this time to Windsor.
+I hate these suppers mortally, but I seldom eat anything.
+
+17.  Lord Treasurer and Mr. Secretary stay here till to-morrow; some
+business keeps them, and I am sorry for it, for they hinder me a day.
+Mr. Lewis and I were going to dine soberly with a little Court friend at
+one.  But Lord Harley and Lord Dupplin kept me by force, and said we
+should dine at Lord Treasurer’s, who intended to go at four to London.  I
+stayed like a fool, and went with the two young lords to Lord Treasurer,
+who very fairly turned us all three out of doors.  They both were invited
+to the Duke of Somerset, but he was gone to a horse-race, and would not
+come till five; so we were forced to go to a tavern, and sent for wine
+from Lord Treasurer’s, who at last, we were told, did not go to town till
+the morrow, and at Lord Treasurer’s we supped again; and I desired him to
+let me add four shillings to the bill I gave him.  We sat up till two,
+yet I must write to little MD.
+
+18.  They are all gone early this morning, and I am alone to seek my
+fortune; but Dr. Arbuthnot engages me for my dinners; and he yesterday
+gave me my choice of place, person, and victuals for to-day.  So I chose
+to dine with Mrs. Hill, who is one of the dressers, and Mrs. Masham’s
+sister, no company but us three, and to have a shoulder of mutton, a
+small one; which was exactly, only there was too much victuals besides;
+and the Doctor’s wife {295a} was of the company.  And to-morrow Mrs. Hill
+and I are to dine with the Doctor.  I have seen a fellow often about
+Court whom I thought I knew.  I asked who he was, and they told me it was
+the gentleman porter; then I called him to mind; he was Killy’s
+acquaintance (I won’t say yours); I think his name is Lovet, {295b} or
+Lovel, or something like it.  I believe he does not know me, and in my
+present posture I shall not be fond of renewing old acquaintance; I
+believe I used to see him with the Bradleys; and, by the way, I have not
+seen Mrs. Bradley since I came to England.  I left your letter in London,
+like a fool; and cannot answer it till I go back, which will not be until
+Monday next; so this will be above a fortnight from my last; but I will
+fetch it up in my next; so go and walk to the Dean’s for your health this
+fine weather.
+
+19.  The Queen designs to have cards and dancing here next week, which
+makes us think she will stay here longer than we believed.  Mrs. Masham
+is not well after her lying-in: I doubt she got some cold; she is lame in
+one of her legs with a rheumatic pain.  Dr. Arbuthnot and Mrs. Hill go
+to-morrow to Kensington to see her, and return the same night.  Mrs. Hill
+and I dined with the Doctor to-day.  I rode out this morning with the
+Doctor to see Cranburn, a house of Lord Ranelagh’s, {296a} and the
+Duchess of Marlborough’s lodge, and the Park; the finest places they are,
+for nature and plantations, that ever I saw; and the finest riding upon
+artificial roads, made on purpose for the Queen.  Arbuthnot made me draw
+up a sham subscription for a book, called _A History of the Maids of
+Honour since Harry the Eighth_, showing they make the best wives, with a
+list of all the maids of honour since, etc.; to pay a crown in hand, and
+the other crown upon delivery of the book; and all in common forms of
+those things.  We got a gentleman to write it fair, because my hand is
+known; and we sent it to the maids of honour, when they came to supper.
+If they bite at it, it will be a very good Court jest; and the Queen will
+certainly have it: we did not tell Mrs. Hill.
+
+20.  To-day I was invited to the Green Cloth by Colonel Godfrey, who
+married the Duke of Marlborough’s sister, {296b} mother to the Duke of
+Berwick by King James: I must tell you those things that happened before
+you were born.  But I made my excuses, and young Harcourt (Lord Keeper’s
+son) and I dined with my next neighbour, Dr. Adams. {297a}  Mrs. Masham
+is better, and will be here in three or four days.  She had need; for the
+Duchess of Somerset is thought to gain ground daily.—We have not sent you
+over all your bills; and I think we have altered your money-bill.  The
+Duke of Ormond is censured here, by those in power, for very wrong
+management in the affair of the mayoralty. {297b}  He is governed by
+fools, and has usually much more sense than his advisers, but never
+proceeds by it.  I must know how your health continues after Wexford.
+Walk and use exercise, sirrahs both; and get somebody to play at
+shuttlecock with you, Madam Stella, and walk to the Dean’s and
+Donnybrook.
+
+21.  Colonel Godfrey sent to me again to-day; so I dined at the Green
+Cloth, and we had but eleven at dinner, which is a small number there,
+the Court being always thin of company till Saturday night.—This new ink
+and pen make a strange figure; _I must write larger_, _yes I must_, _or
+Stella will not be able to read this_. {297c}  S. S. S., there is your
+S’s for you, Stella.  The maids of honour are bit, and have all
+contributed their crowns, and are teasing others to subscribe for the
+book.  I will tell Lord Keeper and Lord Treasurer to-morrow; and I
+believe the Queen will have it.  After a little walk this evening, I
+squandered away the rest of it in sitting at Lewis’s lodging, while he
+and Dr. Arbuthnot played at picquet.  I have that foolish pleasure, which
+I believe nobody has beside me, except old Lady Berkeley. {297d}  But I
+fretted when I came away: I will loiter so no more, for I have a plaguy
+deal of business upon my hands, and very little time to do it.  The
+pamphleteers begin to be very busy against the Ministry: I have begged
+Mr. Secretary to make examples of one or two of them, and he assures me
+he will.  They are very bold and abusive.
+
+22.  This being the day the Ministry come to Windsor, I ate a bit or two
+at Mr. Lewis’s lodgings, because I must sup with Lord Treasurer; and at
+half an hour after one, I led Mr. Lewis a walk up the avenue, which is
+two miles long.  We walked in all about five miles; but I was so tired
+with his slow walking, that I left him here, and walked two miles towards
+London, hoping to meet Lord Treasurer, and return with him; but it grew
+darkish, and I was forced to walk back, so I walked nine miles in all;
+and Lord Treasurer did not come till after eight; which is very wrong,
+for there was no moon, and I often tell him how ill he does to expose
+himself so; but he only makes a jest of it.  I supped with him, and
+stayed till now, when it is half an hour after two.  He is as merry and
+careless and disengaged as a young heir at one-and-twenty.  ’Tis late
+indeed.
+
+23.  The Secretary did not come last night, but at three this afternoon.
+I have not seen him yet, but I verily think they are contriving a peace
+as fast as they can, without which it will be impossible to subsist.  The
+Queen was at church to-day, but was carried in a chair.  I and Mr. Lewis
+dined privately with Mr. Lowman, {298} Clerk of the Kitchen.  I was to
+see Lord Keeper this morning, and told him the jest of the maids of
+honour; and Lord Treasurer had it last night.  That rogue Arbuthnot puts
+it all upon me.  The Court was very full to-day.  I expected Lord
+Treasurer would have invited me to supper; but he only bowed to me; and
+we had no discourse in the drawing-room.  It is now seven at night, and I
+am at home; and I hope Lord Treasurer will not send for me to supper: if
+he does not, I will reproach him; and he will pretend to chide me for not
+coming.—So farewell till I go to bed, for I am going to be busy.—It is
+now past ten, and I went down to ask the servants about Mr. Secretary:
+they tell me the Queen is yet at Council, and that she went to supper,
+and came out to the Council afterwards.  It is certain they are managing
+a peace.  I will go to bed, and there is an end.—It is now eleven, and a
+messenger is come from Lord Treasurer to sup with them; but I have
+excused myself, and am glad I am in bed; for else I should sit up till
+two, and drink till I was hot.  Now I’ll go sleep.
+
+London, 24.  I came to town by six with Lord Treasurer, and have stayed
+till ten.  That of the Queen’s going out to sup, and coming in again, is
+a lie, as the Secretary told me this morning; but I find the Ministry are
+very busy with Mr. Prior, and I believe he will go again to France.  I am
+told so much, that we shall certainly have a peace very soon.  I had
+charming weather all last week at Windsor; but we have had a little rain
+to-day, and yesterday was windy.  Prior’s _Journey_ sells still; they
+have sold two thousand, although the town is empty.  I found a letter
+from Mrs. Fenton here, desiring me, in Lady Giffard’s name, to come and
+pass a week at Sheen, while she is at Moor Park.  I will answer it with a
+vengeance: and now you talk of answering, there is MD’s N. 20 is yet to
+be answered: I had put it up so safe, I could hardly find it; but here it
+is, faith, and I am afraid I cannot send this till Thursday; for I must
+see the Secretary to-morrow morning, and be in some other place in the
+evening.
+
+25.  Stella writes like an emperor, and gives such an account of her
+journey, never saw the like.  Let me see; stand away, let us compute; you
+stayed four days at Inish-Corthy, two nights at Mrs. Proby’s mother’s,
+and yet was but six days in journey; for your words are, “We left Wexford
+this day se’ennight, and came here last night.”  I have heard them say
+that “travellers may lie by authority.”  Make up this, if you can.  How
+far is it from Wexford to Dublin? how many miles did you travel in a day?
+{299}  Let me see—thirty pounds in two months is nine score pounds a
+year; a matter of nothing in Stella’s purse!  I dreamed Billy Swift was
+alive, and that I told him you writ me word he was dead, and that you had
+been at his funeral; and I admired at your impudence, and was in mighty
+haste to run and let you know what lying rogues you were.  Poor lad! he
+is dead of his mother’s former folly and fondness; and yet now I believe,
+as you say, that her grief will soon wear off.—O yes, Madam Dingley,
+mightily tired of the company, no doubt of it, at Wexford!  And your
+description of it is excellent; clean sheets, but bare walls; I suppose
+then you lay upon the walls.—Mrs. Walls has got her tea; but who pays me
+the money?  Come, I shall never get it; so I make a present of it, to
+stop some gaps, etc.  Where’s the thanks of the house?  So, that’s well;
+why, it cost four-and-thirty shillings English—you must adjust that with
+Mrs. Walls; I think that is so many pence more with you.—No, Leigh and
+Sterne, I suppose, were not at the water-side: I fear Sterne’s business
+will not be done; I have not seen him this good while.  I hate him, for
+the management of that box; and I was the greatest fool in nature for
+trusting to such a young jackanapes; I will speak to him once more about
+it, when I see him.  Mr. Addison and I met once more since, and I supped
+with him; I believe I told you so somewhere in this letter.  The
+Archbishop chose an admirable messenger in Walls, to send to me; yet I
+think him fitter for a messenger than anything.—The D— she has!  I did
+not observe her looks.  Will she rot out of modesty with Lady Giffard?  I
+pity poor Jenny {300}—but her husband is a dunce, and with respect to him
+she loses little by her deafness.  I believe, Madam Stella, in your
+accounts you mistook one liquor for another, and it was an hundred and
+forty quarts of wine, and thirty-two of water.—This is all written in the
+morning before I go to the Secretary, as I am now doing.  I have answered
+your letter a little shorter than ordinary; but I have a mind it should
+go to-day, and I will give you my journal at night in my next; for I’m so
+afraid of another letter before this goes: I will never have two together
+again unanswered.—What care I for Dr. Tisdall and Dr. Raymond, or how
+many children they have!  I wish they had a hundred apiece.—Lord
+Treasurer promises me to answer the bishops’ letter to-morrow, and show
+it me; and I believe it will confirm all I said, and mortify those that
+threw the merit on the Duke of Ormond; for I have made him jealous of it;
+and t’other day, talking of the matter, he said, “I am your witness, you
+got it for them before the Duke was Lord Lieutenant.”  My humble service
+to Mrs. Walls, Mrs. Stoyte, and Catherine.  Farewell, etc.
+
+What do you do when you see any literal mistakes in my letters? how do
+you set them right? for I never read them over to correct them.
+Farewell, again.
+
+Pray send this note to Mrs. Brent, to get the money when Parvisol comes
+to town, or she can send to him.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXI.
+
+
+                                                 LONDON, _Sept._ 25, 1711.
+
+I DINED in the City to-day, and at my return I put my 30th into the
+post-office; and when I got home I found for me one of the noblest
+letters I ever read: it was from —, three sides and a half in folio, on a
+large sheet of paper; the two first pages made up of satire upon London,
+and crowds and hurry, stolen from some of his own schoolboy’s exercises:
+the side and a half remaining is spent in desiring me to recommend Mrs.
+South, your Commissioner’s widow, {301} to my Lord Treasurer for a
+pension.  He is the prettiest, discreetest fellow that ever my eyes
+beheld, or that ever dipped pen into ink.  I know not what to say to him.
+A pox on him, I have too many such customers on this side already.  I
+think I will send him word that I never saw my Lord Treasurer in my life:
+I am sure I industriously avoided the name of any great person when I saw
+him, for fear of his reporting it in Ireland.  And this recommendation
+must be a secret too, for fear the Duke of Bolton {302a} should know it,
+and think it was too mean.  I never read so d—d a letter in my life: a
+little would make me send it over to you.—I must send you a pattern, the
+first place I cast my eyes on, I will not pick and choose.  _In this
+place_ (meaning the Exchange in London), _which is the compendium of old
+Troynovant_, _as that is of the whole busy world_, _I got such a
+surfeit_, _that I grew sick of mankind_, _and resolved for ever after to
+bury myself in the shady retreat of_ —.  You must know that London has
+been called by some Troynovant, or New Troy.  Will you have any more?
+Yes, one little bit for Stella, because she’ll be fond of it.  This
+wondrous theatre (meaning London) was no more to me than a desert, and I
+should less complain of solitude in a Connaught shipwreck, or even the
+great bog of Allen.  A little scrap for Mrs. Marget, {302b} and then I
+have done.  _Their royal fanum_, _wherein the idol Pecunia is daily
+worshipped_, _seemed to me to be just like a hive of bees working and
+labouring under huge weights of cares_.  Fanum is a temple, but he means
+the Exchange; and Pecunia is money: so now Mrs. Marget will understand
+her part.  One more paragraph, and I—  Well, come, don’t be in such a
+rage, you shall have no more.  Pray, Stella, be satisfied; ’tis very
+pretty: and that I must be acquainted with such a dog as this!—Our peace
+goes on fast.  Prior was with the Secretary two hours this morning: I was
+there a little after he went away, and was told it.  I believe he will
+soon be despatched again to France; and I will put somebody to write an
+account of his second journey: I hope you have seen the other.  This
+latter has taken up my time with storming at it.
+
+26.  Bernage has been with me these two days; yesterday I sent for him to
+let him know that Dr. Arbuthnot is putting in strongly to have his
+brother made a captain over Bernage’s {303a} head.  Arbuthnot’s brother
+is but an ensign, but the Doctor has great power with the Queen: yet he
+told me he would not do anything hard to a gentleman who is my friend;
+and I have engaged the Secretary and his Colonel {303b} for him.  To-day
+he told me very melancholy, that the other had written from Windsor
+(where he went to solicit) that he has got the company; and Bernage is
+full of the spleen.  I made the Secretary write yesterday a letter to the
+Colonel in Bernage’s behalf.  I hope it will do yet; and I have written
+to Dr. Arbuthnot to Windsor, not to insist on doing such a hardship.  I
+dined in the City at Pontack’s, with Stratford; it cost me seven
+shillings: he would have treated, but I did not let him.  I have removed
+my money from the Bank to another fund.  I desire Parvisol may speak to
+Hawkshaw to pay in my money when he can, for I will put it in the funds;
+and, in the meantime, borrow so much of Mr. Secretary, who offers to lend
+it me.  Go to the Dean’s, sirrahs.
+
+27.  Bernage was with me again to-day, and is in great fear, and so was
+I; but this afternoon, at Lord Treasurer’s, where I dined, my brother,
+George Granville, Secretary at War, after keeping me a while in suspense,
+told me that Dr. Arbuthnot had waived the business, because he would not
+wrong a friend of mine; that his brother is to be a lieutenant, and
+Bernage is made a captain.  I called at his lodging, and the soldier’s
+coffee-house, to put him out of pain, but cannot find him; so I have left
+word, and shall see him to-morrow morning, I suppose.  Bernage is now
+easy; he has ten shillings a day, beside lawful cheating.  However, he
+gives a private sum to his Colonel, but it is very cheap: his Colonel
+loves him well, but is surprised to see him have so many friends.  So he
+is now quite off my hands.  I left the company early to-night, at Lord
+Treasurer’s; but the Secretary followed me, to desire I would go with him
+to W—.  Mr. Lewis’s man came in before I could finish that word beginning
+with a W, which ought to be Windsor, and brought me a very handsome
+rallying letter from Dr. Arbuthnot, to tell me he had, in compliance to
+me, given up his brother’s pretensions in favour of Bernage, this very
+morning; that the Queen had spoken to Mr. Granville to make the company
+easy in the other’s having the captainship.  Whether they have done it to
+oblige me or no, I must own it so.  He says he this very morning begged
+Her Majesty to give Mr. Bernage the company.  I am mighty well pleased to
+have succeeded so well; but you will think me tedious, although you like
+the man, as I think.
+
+Windsor, 28.  I came here a day sooner than ordinary, at Mr. Secretary’s
+desire, and supped with him and Prior, and two private Ministers from
+France, and a French priest. {304a}  I know not the two Ministers’ names;
+but they are come about the peace.  The names the Secretary called them,
+I suppose, were feigned; they were good rational men.  We have already
+settled all things with France, and very much to the honour and advantage
+of England; and the Queen is in mighty good humour.  All this news is a
+mighty secret; the people in general know that a peace is forwarding.
+The Earl of Strafford {304b} is to go soon to Holland, and let them know
+what we have been doing: and then there will be the devil and all to pay;
+but we’ll make them swallow it with a pox.  The French Ministers stayed
+with us till one, and the Secretary and I sat up talking till two; so you
+will own ’tis late, sirrahs, and time for your little saucy Presto to go
+to bed and sleep adazy; and God bless poor little MD: I hope they are now
+fast asleep, and dreaming of Presto.
+
+29.  Lord Treasurer came to-night, as usual, at half an hour after eight,
+as dark as pitch.  I am weary of chiding him; so I commended him for
+observing his friend’s advice, and coming so early, etc.  I was two hours
+with Lady Oglethorpe {304c} to-night, and then supped with Lord
+Treasurer, after dining at the Green Cloth: I stayed till two; this is
+the effect of Lord Treasurer’s being here; I must sup with him; and he
+keeps cursed hours.  Lord Keeper and the Secretary were absent; they
+cannot sit up with him.  This long sitting up makes the periods in my
+letters so short.  I design to stay here all the next week, to be at
+leisure by myself, to finish something of weight I have upon my hands,
+and which must soon be done.  I shall then think of returning to Ireland,
+if these people will let me; and I know nothing else they have for me to
+do.  I gave Dr. Arbuthnot my thanks for his kindness to Bernage, whose
+commission is now signed.  Methinks I long to know something of Stella’s
+health, how it continues after Wexford waters.
+
+30.  The Queen was not at chapel to-day, and all for the better, for we
+had a dunce to preach: she has a little of the gout.  I dined with my
+brother Masham, and a moderate company, and would not go to Lord
+Treasurer’s till after supper at eleven o’clock, and pretended I had
+mistaken the hour; so I ate nothing: and a little after twelve the
+company broke up, the Keeper and Secretary refusing to stay; so I saved
+this night’s debauch.  Prior went away yesterday with his Frenchmen, and
+a thousand reports are raised in this town.  Some said they knew one to
+be the Abbé de Polignac: others swore it was the Abbé du Bois.  The Whigs
+are in a rage about the peace; but we’ll wherret {305a} them, I warrant,
+boys.  Go, go, go to the Dean’s and don’t mind politics, young women,
+they are not good after the waters; they are stark naught: they strike up
+into the head.  Go, get two black aces, and fish for a manilio.
+
+Oct. 1.  Sir John Walter, {305b} an honest drunken fellow, is now in
+waiting, and invited me to the Green Cloth to-day, that he might not be
+behindhand with Colonel Godfrey, who is a Whig.  I was engaged to the
+Mayor’s feast with Mr. Masham; but waiting to take leave of Lord
+Treasurer, I came too late, and so returned sneaking to the Green Cloth,
+and did not see my Lord Treasurer neither; but was resolved not to lose
+two dinners for him.  I took leave to-day of my friend and solicitor Lord
+Rivers, who is commanded by the Queen to set out for Hanover on Thursday.
+The Secretary does not go to town till to-morrow; he and I, and two
+friends more, drank a sober bottle of wine here at home, and parted at
+twelve; he goes by seven to-morrow morning, so I shall not see him.  I
+have power over his cellar in his absence, and make little use of it.
+Lord Dartmouth and my friend Lewis stay here this week; but I can never
+work out a dinner from Dartmouth.  Masham has promised to provide for me:
+I squired his lady out of her chaise to-day, and must visit her in a day
+or two.  So you have had a long fit of the finest weather in the world;
+but I am every day in pain that it will go off.  I have done no business
+to-day; I am very idle.
+
+2.  My friend Lewis and I, to avoid over much eating and great tables,
+dined with honest Jemmy Eckershall, {306} Clerk of the Kitchen, now in
+waiting, and I bespoke my dinner: but the cur had your acquaintance
+Lovet, the gentleman porter, to be our company.  Lovet, towards the end
+of dinner, after twenty wrigglings, said he had the honour to see me
+formerly at Moor Park, and thought he remembered my face.  I said I
+thought I remembered him, and was glad to see him, etc., and I escaped
+for that much, for he was very pert.  It has rained all this day, and I
+doubt our good weather is gone.  I have been very idle this afternoon,
+playing at twelvepenny picquet with Lewis: I won seven shillings, which
+is the only money I won this year: I have not played above four times,
+and I think always at Windsor.  Cards are very dear: there is a duty on
+them of sixpence a pack, which spoils small gamesters.
+
+3.  Mr. Masham sent this morning to desire I would ride out with him, the
+weather growing again very fine.  I was very busy, and sent my excuses;
+but desired he would provide me a dinner.  I dined with him, his lady,
+and her sister, Mrs. Hill, who invites us to-morrow to dine with her, and
+we are to ride out in the morning.  I sat with Lady Oglethorpe till eight
+this evening, then was going home to write; looked about for the woman
+that keeps the key of the house: she told me Patrick had it.  I cooled my
+heels in the cloisters till nine, then went in to the music-meeting,
+where I had been often desired to go; but was weary in half an hour of
+their fine stuff, and stole out so privately that everybody saw me; and
+cooled my heels in the cloisters again till after ten: then came in
+Patrick.  I went up, shut the chamber door, and gave him two or three
+swinging cuffs on the ear, and I have strained the thumb of my left hand
+with pulling him, which I did not feel until he was gone.  He was
+plaguily afraid and humbled.
+
+4.  It was the finest day in the world, and we got out before eleven, a
+noble caravan of us.  The Duchess of Shrewsbury in her own chaise with
+one horse, and Miss Touchet {307a} with her, Mrs. Masham and Mrs.
+Scarborow, one of the dressers, in one of the Queen’s chaises; Miss
+Forester and Miss Scarborow, {307b} two maids of honour, and Mrs. Hill on
+horseback.  The Duke of Shrewsbury, Mr. Masham, George Fielding, {307c}
+Arbuthnot, and I, on horseback too.  Mrs. Hill’s horse was hired for Miss
+Scarborow, but she took it in civility; her own horse was galled and
+could not be rid, but kicked and winced: the hired horse was not worth
+eighteenpence.  I borrowed coat, boots, and horse, and in short we had
+all the difficulties, and more than we used to have in making a party
+from Trim to Longfield’s. {307d}  My coat was light camlet, faced with
+red velvet, and silver buttons.  We rode in the great park and the forest
+about a dozen miles, and the Duchess and I had much conversation: we got
+home by two, and Mr. Masham, his lady, Arbuthnot and I, dined with Mrs.
+Hill.  Arbuthnot made us all melancholy, by some symptoms of bloody u—e:
+he expects a cruel fit of the stone in twelve hours; he says he is never
+mistaken, and he appears like a man that was to be racked to-morrow.  I
+cannot but hope it will not be so bad; he is a perfectly honest man, and
+one I have much obligation to.  It rained a little this afternoon, and
+grew fair again.  Lady Oglethorpe sent to speak to me, and it was to let
+me know that Lady Rochester {308a} desires she and I may be better
+acquainted.  ’Tis a little too late; for I am not now in love with Lady
+Rochester: they shame me out of her, because she is old.  Arbuthnot says
+he hopes my strained thumb is not the gout; for he has often found people
+so mistaken.  I do not remember the particular thing that gave it me,
+only I had it just after beating Patrick, and now it is better; so I
+believe he is mistaken.
+
+5.  The Duchess of Shrewsbury sent to invite me to dinner; but I was
+abroad last night when her servant came, and this morning I sent my
+excuses, because I was engaged, which I was sorry for.  Mrs. Forester
+taxed me yesterday about the _History of the Maids of Honour_; {308b} but
+I told her fairly it was no jest of mine; for I found they did not relish
+it altogether well; and I have enough already of a quarrel with that
+brute Sir John Walter, who has been railing at me in all companies ever
+since I dined with him; that I abused the Queen’s meat and drink, and
+said nothing at the table was good, and all a d—d lie; for after dinner,
+commending the wine, I said I thought it was something small.  You would
+wonder how all my friends laugh at this quarrel.  It will be such a jest
+for the Keeper, Treasurer, and Secretary.—I dined with honest Colonel
+Godfrey, took a good walk of an hour on the terrace, and then came up to
+study; but it grows bloody cold, and I have no waistcoat here.
+
+6.  I never dined with the chaplains till to-day; but my friend Gastrell
+and the Dean of Rochester {309a} had often invited me, and I happened to
+be disengaged: it is the worst provided table at Court.  We ate on
+pewter: every chaplain, when he is made a dean, gives a piece of plate,
+and so they have got a little, some of it very old.  One who was made
+Dean of Peterborough (a small deanery) said he would give no plate; he
+was only Dean of Pewterborough.  The news of Mr. Hill’s miscarriage in
+his expedition {309b} came to-day, and I went to visit Mrs. Masham and
+Mrs. Hill, his two sisters, to condole with them.  I advised them by all
+means to go to the music-meeting to-night, to show they were not cast
+down, etc., and they thought my advice was right, and went.  I doubt Mr.
+Hill and his admiral made wrong steps; however, we lay it all to a storm,
+etc.  I sat with the Secretary at supper; then we both went to Lord
+Treasurer’s supper, and sat till twelve.  The Secretary is much mortified
+about Hill, because this expedition was of his contriving, and he counted
+much upon it; but Lord Treasurer was just as merry as usual, and old
+laughing at Sir John Walter and me falling out.  I said nothing grieved
+me but that they would take example, and perhaps presume upon it, and get
+out of my government; but that I thought I was not obliged to govern
+bears, though I governed men.  They promise to be as obedient as ever,
+and so we laughed; and so I go to bed; for it is colder still, and you
+have a fire now, and are at cards at home.
+
+7.  Lord Harley and I dined privately to-day with Mrs. Masham and Mrs.
+Hill, and my brother Masham.  I saw Lord Halifax at Court, and we joined
+and talked; and the Duchess of Shrewsbury came up and reproached me for
+not dining with her.  I said that was not so soon done, for I expected
+more advances from ladies, especially duchesses: she promised to comply
+with any demands I pleased; and I agreed to dine with her to-morrow, if I
+did not go to London too soon, as I believe I shall before dinner.  Lady
+Oglethorpe brought me and the Duchess of Hamilton {310a} together to-day
+in the drawing-room, and I have given her some encouragement, but not
+much.  Everybody has been teasing Walter.  He told Lord Treasurer that he
+took his company from him that were to dine with him: my lord said, “I
+will send you Dr. Swift:”  Lord Keeper bid him take care what he did;
+“for,” said he, “Dr. Swift is not only all our favourite, but our
+governor.”  The old company supped with Lord Treasurer, and got away by
+twelve.
+
+London, 8.  I believe I shall go no more to Windsor, for we expect the
+Queen will come in ten days to Hampton Court.  It was frost last night,
+and cruel cold to-day.  I could not dine with the Duchess, for I left
+Windsor half an hour after one with Lord Treasurer, and we called at
+Kensington, where Mrs. Masham was got to see her children for two days.
+I dined, or rather supped, with Lord Treasurer, and stayed till after
+ten.  Tisdall {310b} and his family are gone from hence, upon some
+wrangle with the family.  Yesterday I had two letters brought me to Mr.
+Masham’s; one from Ford, and t’other from our little MD, N. 21.  I would
+not tell you till to-day, because I would not.  I won’t answer it till
+the next, because I have slipped two days by being at Windsor, which I
+must recover here.  Well, sirrahs, I must go to sleep.  The roads were as
+dry as at midsummer to-day.  This letter shall go to-morrow.
+
+9.  Morning.  It rains hard this morning.  I suppose our fair weather is
+now at an end.  I think I’ll put on my waistcoat to-day: shall I?  Well,
+I will then, to please MD.  I think of dining at home to-day upon a chop
+and a pot.  The town continues yet very thin.  Lord Strafford is gone to
+Holland, to tell them what we have done here toward a peace.  We shall
+soon hear what the Dutch say, and how they take it.  My humble service to
+Mrs. Walls, Mrs. Stoyte, and Catherine.—Morrow, dearest sirrahs, and
+farewell; and God Almighty bless MD, poor little dear MD, for so I mean,
+and Presto too.  I’ll write to you again to-night, that is, I’ll begin my
+next letter.  Farewell, etc.
+
+This little bit belongs to MD; we must always write on the margin: {311a}
+you are saucy rogues.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXII.
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Oct._ 9, 1711.
+
+I WAS forced to lie down at twelve to-day, and mend my night’s sleep: I
+slept till after two, and then sent for a bit of mutton and pot of ale
+from the next cook’s shop, and had no stomach.  I went out at four, and
+called to see Biddy Floyd, which I had not done these three months: she
+is something marked, but has recovered her complexion quite, and looks
+very well.  Then I sat the evening with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and drank
+coffee, and ate an egg.  I likewise took a new lodging to-day, not liking
+a ground-floor, nor the ill smell, and other circumstances.  I lodge, or
+shall lodge, by Leicester Fields, and pay ten shillings a week; that
+won’t hold out long, faith.  I shall lie here but one night more.  It
+rained terribly till one o’clock to-day.  I lie, for I shall lie here two
+nights, till Thursday, and then remove.  Did I tell you that my friend
+Mrs. Barton has a brother {311b} drowned, that went on the expedition
+with Jack Hill?  He was a lieutenant-colonel, and a coxcomb; and she
+keeps her chamber in form, and the servants say she receives no
+messages.—Answer MD’s letter, Presto, d’ye hear?  No, says Presto, I
+won’t yet, I’m busy; you’re a saucy rogue.  Who talks?
+
+10.  It cost me two shillings in coach-hire to dine in the City with a
+printer.  I have sent, and caused to be sent, three pamphlets out in a
+fortnight.  I will ply the rogues warm; and whenever anything of theirs
+makes a noise, it shall have an answer.  I have instructed an under
+spur-leather to write so, that it is taken for mine.  A rogue that writes
+a newspaper, called _The Protestant Postboy_, has reflected on me in one
+of his papers; but the Secretary has taken him up, and he shall have a
+squeeze extraordinary.  He says that an ambitious tantivy, {312a} missing
+of his towering hopes of preferment in Ireland, is come over to vent his
+spleen on the late Ministry, etc.  I’ll tantivy him with a vengeance.  I
+sat the evening at home, and am very busy, and can hardly find time to
+write, unless it were to MD.  I am in furious haste.
+
+11.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer.  Thursdays are now his days when
+his choice company comes, but we are too much multiplied.  George
+Granville sent his excuses upon being ill; I hear he apprehends the
+apoplexy, which would grieve me much.  Lord Treasurer calls Prior nothing
+but Monsieur Baudrier, which was the feigned name of the Frenchman that
+writ his _Journey to Paris_. {312b}  They pretend to suspect me, so I
+talk freely of it, and put them out of their play.  Lord Treasurer calls
+me now Dr. Martin, because martin {312c} is a sort of a swallow, and so
+is a swift.  When he and I came last Monday from Windsor, we were reading
+all the signs on the road. {312d}  He is a pure trifler; tell the Bishop
+of Clogher so.  I made him make two lines in verse for the Bell and
+Dragon, and they were rare bad ones.  I suppose Dilly is with you by this
+time: what could his reason be of leaving London, and not owning it?
+’Twas plaguy silly.  I believe his natural inconstancy made him weary.  I
+think he is the king of inconstancy.  I stayed with Lord Treasurer till
+ten; we had five lords and three commoners.  Go to ombre, sirrahs.
+
+12.  Mrs. Vanhomrigh has changed her lodging as well as I.  She found she
+had got with a bawd, and removed.  I dined with her to-day; for though
+she boards, her landlady does not dine with her.  I am grown a mighty
+lover of herrings; but they are much smaller here than with you.  In the
+afternoon I visited an old major-general, and ate six oysters; then sat
+an hour with Mrs. Colledge, {313a} the joiner’s daughter that was hanged;
+it was the joiner was hanged, and not his daughter; with Thompson’s wife,
+a magistrate.  There was the famous Mrs. Floyd of Chester, who, I think,
+is the handsomest woman (except MD) that ever I saw.  She told me that
+twenty people had sent her the verses upon Biddy, {313b} as meant to her:
+and, indeed, in point of handsomeness, she deserves them much better.  I
+will not go to Windsor to-morrow, and so I told the Secretary to-day.  I
+hate the thoughts of Saturday and Sunday suppers with Lord Treasurer.
+Jack Hill is come home from his unfortunate expedition, and is, I think,
+now at Windsor: I have not yet seen him.  He is privately blamed by his
+own friends for want of conduct.  He called a council of war, and therein
+it was determined to come back.  But they say a general should not do
+that, because the officers will always give their opinion for returning,
+since the blame will not lie upon them, but the general.  I pity him
+heartily.  Bernage received his commission to-day.
+
+13.  I dined to-day with Colonel Crowe, {313c} late Governor of
+Barbadoes; he is a great acquaintance of your friend Sterne, to whom I
+trusted the box.  Lord Treasurer has refused Sterne’s business, and I
+doubt he is a rake; Jemmy Leigh stays for him, and nobody knows where to
+find him.  I am so busy now I have hardly time to spare to write to our
+little MD, but in a fortnight I hope it will be over.  I am going now to
+be busy, etc.
+
+14.  I was going to dine with Dr. Cockburn, but Sir Andrew Fountaine met
+me, and carried me to Mrs. Van’s, where I drank the last bottle of
+Raymond’s wine, admirable good, better than any I get among the Ministry.
+I must pick up time to answer this letter of MD’s; I’ll do it in a day or
+two for certain.—I am glad I am not at Windsor, for it is very cold, and
+I won’t have a fire till November.  I am contriving how to stop up my
+grate with bricks.  Patrick was drunk last night; but did not come to me,
+else I should have given him t’other cuff.  I sat this evening with Mrs.
+Barton; it is the first day of her seeing company; but I made her merry
+enough, and we were three hours disputing upon Whig and Tory.  She
+grieved for her brother only for form, and he was a sad dog.  Is Stella
+well enough to go to church, pray? no numbings left? no darkness in your
+eyes? do you walk and exercise?  Your exercise is ombre.—People are
+coming up to town: the Queen will be at Hampton Court in a week.  Lady
+Betty Germaine, I hear, is come; and Lord Pembroke is coming: his wife
+{314a} is as big with child as she can tumble.
+
+15.  I sat at home till four this afternoon to-day writing, and ate a
+roll and butter; then visited Will Congreve an hour or two, and supped
+with Lord Treasurer, who came from Windsor to-day, and brought Prior with
+him.  The Queen has thanked Prior for his good service in France, and
+promised to make him a Commissioner of the Customs.  Several of that
+Commission are to be out; among the rest, my friend Sir Matthew Dudley.
+I can do nothing for him, he is so hated by the Ministry.  Lord Treasurer
+kept me till twelve, so I need not tell you it is now late.
+
+16.  I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary at Dr. Coatesworth’s, {314b} where
+he now lodges till his house be got ready in Golden Square.  One Boyer,
+{314c} a French dog, has abused me in a pamphlet, and I have got him up
+in a messenger’s hands: the Secretary promises me to swinge him.  Lord
+Treasurer told me last night that he had the honour to be abused with me
+in a pamphlet.  I must make that rogue an example, for warning to others.
+I was to see Jack Hill this morning, who made that unfortunate
+expedition; and there is still more misfortune; for that ship, which was
+admiral of his fleet, {315a} is blown up in the Thames, by an accident
+and carelessness of some rogue, who was going, as they think, to steal
+some gunpowder: five hundred men are lost.  We don’t yet know the
+particulars.  I am got home by seven, and am going to be busy, and you
+are going to play and supper; you live ten times happier than I; but I
+should live ten times happier than you if I were with MD.  I saw Jemmy
+Leigh to-day in the street, who tells me that Sterne has not lain above
+once these three weeks in his lodgings, and he doubts he takes ill
+courses; he stays only till he can find Sterne to go along with him, and
+he cannot hear of him.  I begged him to inquire about the box when he
+comes to Chester, which he promises.
+
+17.  The Secretary and I dined to-day with Brigadier Britton, {315b} a
+great friend of his.  The lady of the house is very gallant, about
+thirty-five; she is said to have a great deal of wit; but I see nothing
+among any of them that equals MD by a bar’s length, as hope saved.  My
+Lord Treasurer is much out of order; he has a sore throat, and the
+gravel, and a pain in his breast where the wound was: pray God preserve
+him.  The Queen comes to Hampton Court on Tuesday next; people are coming
+fast to town, and I must answer MD’s letter, which I can hardly find time
+to do, though I am at home the greatest part of the day.  Lady Betty
+Germaine and I were disputing Whig and Tory to death this morning.  She
+is grown very fat, and looks mighty well.  Biddy Floyd was there, and she
+is, I think, very much spoiled with the smallpox.
+
+18.  Lord Treasurer is still out of order, and that breaks our method of
+dining there to-day.  He is often subject to a sore throat, and some time
+or other it will kill him, unless he takes more care than he is apt to
+do.  It was said about the town that poor Lord Peterborow was dead at
+Frankfort; but he is something better, and the Queen is sending him to
+Italy, where I hope the warm climate will recover him: he has abundance
+of excellent qualities, and we love one another mightily.  I was this
+afternoon in the City, ate a bit of meat, and settled some things with a
+printer.  I will answer your letter on Saturday, if possible, and then
+send away this; so to fetch up the odd days I lost at Windsor, and keep
+constant to my fortnight.  Ombre time is now coming on, and we shall have
+nothing but Manley, and Walls, and Stoytes, and the Dean.  Have you got
+no new acquaintance?  Poor girls; nobody knows MD’s good qualities.—’Tis
+very cold; but I will not have a fire till November, that’s pozz.—Well,
+but coming home to-night, I found on my table a letter from MD; faith, I
+was angry, that is, with myself; and I was afraid too to see MD’s hand so
+soon, for fear of something, I don’t know what: at last I opened it, and
+it was over well, and a bill for the two hundred guineas.  However, ’tis
+a sad thing that this letter is not gone, nor your twenty-first answered
+yet.
+
+19.  I was invited to-day to dine with Mrs. Van, with some company who
+did not come; but I ate nothing but herrings; you must know I hardly ever
+eat of above one thing, and that the plainest ordinary meat at table; I
+love it best, and believe it wholesomest.  You love rarities; yes you do;
+I wish you had all that I ever see where I go.  I was coming home early,
+and met the Secretary in his chair, who persuaded me to go with him to
+Britton’s; for he said he had been all day at business, and had eaten
+nothing.  So I went, and the time passed so, that we stayed till two, so
+you may believe ’tis late enough.
+
+20.  This day has gone all wrong, by sitting up so late last night.  Lord
+Treasurer is not yet well, and can’t go to Windsor.  I dined with Sir
+Matthew Dudley, and took occasion to hint to him that he would lose his
+employment, for which I am very sorry.  Lord Pembroke and his family are
+all come to town.  I was kept so long at a friend’s this evening that I
+cannot send this to-night.  When I knocked at my lodgings, a fellow asked
+me where lodged Dr. Swift?  I told him I was the person: he gave me a
+letter he brought from the Secretary’s office, and I gave him a shilling:
+when I came up, I saw Dingley’s hand: faith, I was afraid, I do not know
+what.  At last it was a formal letter, from Dingley about her exchequer
+business.  Well, I’ll do it on Monday, and settle it with Tooke.  And
+now, boys, for your letter, I mean the first, N. 21.  Let’s see; come
+out, little letter.  I never had the letter from the Bishop that Raymond
+mentions; but I have written to Ned Southwell, to desire the Duke of
+Ormond to speak to his reverence, that he may leave off his impertinence.
+What a pox can they think I am doing for the Archbishop here?  You have a
+pretty notion of me in Ireland, to make me an agent for the Archbishop of
+Dublin.—Why! do you think I value your people’s ingratitude about my part
+in serving them?  I remit them their first-fruits of ingratitude, as
+freely as I got the other remitted to them.  The Lord Treasurer defers
+writing his letter to them, or else they would be plaguily confounded by
+this time.  For he designs to give the merit of it wholly to the Queen
+and me, and to let them know it was done before the Duke of Ormond was
+Lord Lieutenant.  You visit, you dine abroad, you see friends; you
+pilgarlick; {317a} you walk from Finglas, you a cat’s foot.  O Lord—Lady
+Gore {317b} hung her child by the _waist_; what is that waist? {318}  I
+don’t understand that word; he must hang on till you explain or spell
+it.—I don’t believe he was pretty, that’s a liiii.—Pish! burn your
+First-Fruits; again at it.  Stella has made twenty false spellings in her
+writing; I’ll send them to you all back again on the other side of this
+letter, to mend them; I won’t miss one.  Why, I think there were
+seventeen bishops’ names to the letter Lord Oxford received.—I will send
+you some pamphlets by Leigh; put me in mind of it on Monday, for I shall
+go then to the printer; yes, and the _Miscellany_.  I am mightily obliged
+to Walls, but I don’t deserve it by any usage of him here, having seen
+him but twice, and once en passant.  Mrs. Manley forsworn ombre!  What!
+and no blazing star appear? no monsters born? no whale thrown up? have
+you not found out some evasion for her?  She had no such regard to oaths
+in her younger days.  I got the books for nothing, Madam Dingley; but the
+wine I got not; it was but a promise.—Yes, my head is pretty well in the
+main, only now and then a little threatening or so.—You talk of my
+reconciling some great folks.  I tell you what.  The Secretary told me
+last night that he had found the reason why the Queen was cold to him for
+some months past; that a friend had told it him yesterday; and it was,
+that they suspected he was at the bottom with the Duke of Marlborough.
+Then he said he had reflected upon all I had spoken to him long ago, but
+he thought it had only been my suspicion, and my zeal and kindness for
+him.  I said I had reason to take that very ill, to imagine I knew so
+little of the world as to talk at a venture to a great Minister; that I
+had gone between him and Lord Treasurer often, and told each of them what
+I had said to the other, and that I had informed him so before.  He said
+all that you may imagine to excuse himself, and approve my conduct.  I
+told him I knew all along that this proceeding of mine was the surest way
+to send me back to my willows in Ireland, but that I regarded it not,
+provided I could do the kingdom service in keeping them well together.  I
+minded him how often I had told Lord Treasurer, Lord Keeper, and him
+together, that all things depended on their union, and that my comfort
+was to see them love one another; and I had told them all singly that I
+had not said this by chance, etc. He was in a rage to be thus suspected;
+swears he will be upon a better foot, or none at all; and I do not see
+how they can well want him in this juncture.  I hope to find a way of
+settling this matter.  I act an honest part, that will bring me neither
+honour nor praise.  MD must think the better of me for it: nobody else
+shall ever know of it.  Here’s politics enough for once; but Madam DD
+gave me occasion for it.  I think I told you I have got into lodgings
+that don’t smell ill—O Lord! the spectacles: well, I’ll do that on Monday
+too; although it goes against me to be employed for folks that neither
+you nor I care a groat for.  Is the eight pounds from Hawkshaw included
+in the thirty-nine pounds five shillings and twopence?  How do I know by
+this how my account stands?  Can’t you write five or six lines to cast it
+up?  Mine is forty-four pounds per annum, and eight pounds from Hawkshaw
+makes fifty-two pounds.  Pray set it right, and let me know; you had
+best.—And so now I have answered N. 21, and ’tis late, and I will answer
+N. 22 in my next: this cannot go to-night, but shall on Tuesday: and so
+go to your play, and lose your money, with your two eggs a penny; silly
+jade; you witty? very pretty.
+
+21.  Mrs. Van would have me dine with her again to-day, and so I did,
+though Lady Mountjoy has sent two or three times to have me see and dine
+with her, and she is a little body I love very well.  My head has ached a
+little in the evenings these three or four days, but it is not of the
+giddy sort, so I do not much value it.  I was to see Lord Harley to-day,
+but Lord Treasurer took physic; and I could not see him.  He has voided
+much gravel, and is better, but not well: he talks of going on Tuesday to
+see the Queen at Hampton Court; I wish he may be able.  I never saw so
+fine a summer day as this was: how is it with you, pray? and can’t you
+remember, naughty packs?  I han’t seen Lord Pembroke yet.  He will be
+sorry to miss Dilly: I wonder you say nothing of Dilly’s being got to
+Ireland; if he be not there soon, I shall have some certain odd thoughts:
+guess them if you can.
+
+22.  I dined in the City to-day with Dr. Freind, at one of my printers: I
+inquired for Leigh, but could not find him: I have forgot what sort of
+apron you want.  I must rout among your letters, a needle in a bottle of
+hay.  I gave Sterne directions, but where to find him Lord knows.  I have
+bespoken the spectacles; got a set of _Examiners_, and five pamphlets,
+which I have either written or contributed to, except the best, which is
+the _Vindication of the Duke of Marlborough_, and is entirely of the
+author of the _Atalantis_. {320}  I have settled Dingley’s affair with
+Tooke, who has undertaken it, and understands it.  I have bespoken a
+_Miscellany_: what would you have me do more?  It cost me a shilling
+coming home; it rains terribly, and did so in the morning.  Lord
+Treasurer has had an ill day, in much pain.  He writes and does business
+in his chamber now he is ill: the man is bewitched: he desires to see me,
+and I’ll maul him, but he will not value it a rush.  I am half weary of
+them all.  I often burst out into these thoughts, and will certainly
+steal away as soon as I decently can.  I have many friends, and many
+enemies; and the last are more constant in their nature.  I have no
+shuddering at all to think of retiring to my old circumstances, if you
+can be easy; but I will always live in Ireland as I did the last time; I
+will not hunt for dinners there, nor converse with more than a very few.
+
+23.  Morning.  This goes to-day, and shall be sealed by and by.  Lord
+Treasurer takes physic again to-day: I believe I shall dine with Lord
+Dupplin.  Mr. Tooke brought me a letter directed for me at Morphew’s the
+bookseller.  I suppose, by the postage, it came from Ireland.  It is a
+woman’s hand, and seems false spelt on purpose: it is in such sort of
+verse as Harris’s petition; {321a} rallies me for writing merry things,
+and not upon divinity; and is like the subject of the Archbishop’s last
+letter, as I told you.  Can you guess whom it came from?  It is not ill
+written; pray find it out.  There is a Latin verse at the end of it all
+rightly spelt; yet the English, as I think, affectedly wrong in many
+places.  My plaguing time is coming.  A young fellow brought me a letter
+from Judge Coote, {321b} with recommendation to be lieutenant of a
+man-of-war.  He is the son of one Echlin, {321c} who was minister of
+Belfast before Tisdall, and I have got some other new customers; but I
+shall trouble my friends as little as possible.  Saucy Stella used to
+jeer me for meddling with other folks’ affairs; but now I am punished for
+it.—Patrick has brought the candle, and I have no more room.  Farewell,
+etc. etc.
+
+Here is a full and true account of Stella’s new spelling:—{321d}
+
+Plaguely,          Plaguily.
+Dineing,           Dining.
+Straingers,        Strangers.
+Chais,             Chase.
+Waist,             Wast.
+Houer,             Hour.
+Immagin,           Imagine.
+A bout,            About.
+Intellegence,      Intelligence.
+Merrit,            Merit.
+Aboundance,        Abundance.
+Secreet,           Secret.
+Phamphlets,        Pamphlets.
+Bussiness,         Business.
+
+Tell me truly, sirrah, how many of these are mistakes of the pen, and how
+many are you to answer for as real ill spelling?  There are but fourteen;
+I said twenty by guess.  You must not be angry, for I will have you spell
+right, let the world go how it will.  Though, after all, there is but a
+mistake of one letter in any of these words.  I allow you henceforth but
+six false spellings in every letter you send me.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXIII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Oct._ 23, 1711.
+
+I DINED with Lord Dupplin as I told you I would, and put my thirty-second
+into the post-office my own self; and I believe there has not been one
+moment since we parted wherein a letter was not upon the road going or
+coming to or from PMD.  If the Queen knew it, she would give us a
+pension; for it is we bring good luck to their post-boys and their
+packets; else they would break their necks and sink.  But, an old saying
+and a true one:
+
+   Be it snow, or storm, or hail,
+   PMD’s letters never fail;
+   Cross winds may sometimes make them tarry,
+   But PMD’s letters can’t miscarry.
+
+Terrible rain to-day, but it cleared up at night enough to save my
+twelvepence coming home.  Lord Treasurer is much better this evening.  I
+hate to have him ill, he is so confoundedly careless.  I won’t answer
+your letter yet, so be satisfied.
+
+24.  I called at Lord Treasurer’s to-day at noon: he was eating some
+broth in his bed-chamber, undressed, with a thousand papers about him.
+He has a little fever upon him, and his eye terribly bloodshot; yet he
+dressed himself and went out to the Treasury.  He told me he had a letter
+from a lady with a complaint against me; it was from Mrs. Cutts, a sister
+of Lord Cutts, who writ to him that I had abused her brother: {323a} you
+remember the “Salamander,” it is printed in the _Miscellany_.  I told my
+lord that I would never regard complaints, and that I expected, whenever
+he received any against me, he would immediately put them into the fire,
+and forget them, else I should have no quiet.  I had a little turn in my
+head this morning; which, though it did not last above a moment, yet
+being of the true sort, has made me as weak as a dog all this day.  ’Tis
+the first I have had this half-year.  I shall take my pills if I hear of
+it again.  I dined at Lady Mountjoy’s with Harry Coote, {323b} and went
+to see Lord Pembroke upon his coming to town.—The Whig party are furious
+against a peace, and every day some ballad comes out reflecting on the
+Ministry on that account.  The Secretary St. John has seized on a dozen
+booksellers and publishers into his messengers’ hands. {323c}  Some of
+the foreign Ministers have published the preliminaries agreed on here
+between France and England; and people rail at them as insufficient to
+treat a peace upon; but the secret is, that the French have agreed to
+articles much more important, which our Ministers have not communicated,
+and the people, who think they know all, are discontented that there is
+no more.  This was an inconvenience I foretold to the Secretary, but we
+could contrive no way to fence against it.  So there’s politics for you.
+
+25.  The Queen is at Hampton Court: she went on Tuesday in that terrible
+rain.  I dined with Lewis at his lodgings, to despatch some business we
+had.  I sent this morning and evening to Lord Treasurer, and he is much
+worse by going out; I am in pain about evening.  He has sent for Dr.
+Radcliffe; pray God preserve him.  The Chancellor of the Exchequer {324a}
+showed me to-day a ballad {324b} in manuscript against Lord Treasurer and
+his South Sea project; it is very sharply written: if it be not printed,
+I will send it you.  If it be, it shall go in your packet of pamphlets.—I
+found out your letter about directions for the apron, and have ordered to
+be bought a cheap green silk work apron; I have it by heart.  I sat this
+evening with Mrs. Barton, who is my near neighbour.  It was a delicious
+day, and I got my walk, and was thinking whether MD was walking too just
+at that time that Presto was. This paper does not cost me a farthing, I
+have it from the Secretary’s office.  I long till to-morrow to know how
+my Lord Treasurer sleeps this night, and to hear he mends: we are all
+undone without him; so pray for him, sirrahs, and don’t stay too late at
+the Dean’s.
+
+26.  I dined with Mrs. Van; for the weather is so bad, and I am so busy,
+that I can’t dine with great folks: and besides I dare eat but little, to
+keep my head in order, which is better.  Lord Treasurer is very ill, but
+I hope in no danger.  We have no quiet with the Whigs, they are so
+violent against a peace; but I’ll cool them, with a vengeance, very soon.
+I have not heard from the Bishop of Clogher, whether he has got his
+statues. {324c}  I writ to him six weeks ago; he’s so busy with his
+Parliament.  I won’t answer your letter yet, say what you will, saucy
+girls.
+
+27.  I forgot to go about some business this morning, which cost me
+double the time; and I was forced to be at the Secretary’s office till
+four, and lose my dinner; so I went to Mrs. Van’s, and made them get me
+three herrings, which I am very fond of, and they are a light victuals:
+besides, I was to have supped at Lady Ashburnham’s; but the drab did not
+call for us in her coach, as she promised, but sent for us, and so I sent
+my excuses.  It has been a terrible rainy day, but so flattering in the
+morning, that I would needs go out in my new hat.  I met Leigh and Sterne
+as I was going into the Park.  Leigh says he will go to Ireland in ten
+days, if he can get Sterne to go with him; so I will send him the things
+for MD, and I have desired him to inquire about the box.  I hate that
+Sterne for his carelessness about it; but it was my fault.
+
+29.  I was all this terrible rainy day with my friend Lewis upon business
+of importance; and I dined with him, and came home about seven, and
+thought I would amuse myself a little, after the pains I had taken.  I
+saw a volume of Congreve’s plays in my room, that Patrick had taken to
+read; and I looked into it, and in mere loitering read in it till twelve,
+like an owl and a fool: if ever I do so again; never saw the like.  Count
+Gallas, {325a} the Emperor’s Envoy, you will hear, is in disgrace with
+us: the Queen has ordered her Ministers to have no more commerce with
+him; the reason is, the fool writ a rude letter to Lord Dartmouth,
+Secretary of State, complaining of our proceedings about a peace; and he
+is always in close confidence with Lord Wharton and Sunderland, and
+others of the late Ministry.  I believe you begin to think there will be
+no peace; the Whigs here are sure it cannot be, and stocks are fallen
+again.  But I am confident there will, unless France plays us tricks; and
+you may venture a wager with any of your Whig acquaintance that we shall
+not have another campaign.  You will get more by it than by ombre,
+sirrah.—I let slip telling you yesterday’s journal, which I thought to
+have done this morning, but blundered.  I dined yesterday at Harry
+Coote’s, with Lord Hatton, {325b} Mr. Finch, a son of Lord Nottingham,
+and Sir Andrew Fountaine.  I left them soon, but hear they stayed till
+two in the morning, and were all drunk: and so good-night for last night,
+and good-night for to-night.  You blundering goosecap, an’t you ashamed
+to blunder to young ladies?  I shall have a fire in three or four days
+now, oh ho.
+
+30.  I was to-day in the City concerting some things with a printer, and
+am to be to-morrow all day busy with Mr. Secretary about the same.  I
+won’t tell you now; but the Ministers reckon it will do abundance of
+good, and open the eyes of the nation, who are half bewitched against a
+peace.  Few of this generation can remember anything but war and taxes,
+and they think it is as it should be; whereas ’tis certain we are the
+most undone people in Europe, as I am afraid I shall make appear beyond
+all contradiction.  But I forgot; I won’t tell you what I will do, nor
+what I will not do: so let me alone, and go to Stoyte, and give Goody
+Stoyte and Catherine my humble service; I love Goody Stoyte better than
+Goody Walls.  Who’ll pay me for this green apron?  I will have the money;
+it cost ten shillings and sixpence.  I think it plaguy dear for a cheap
+thing; but they said that English silk would cockle, {326a} and I know
+not what.  You have the making into the bargain.  ’Tis right Italian: I
+have sent it and the pamphlets to Leigh, and will send the _Miscellanies_
+and spectacles in a day or two.  I would send more; but, faith, I’m
+plaguy poor at present.
+
+31.  The devil’s in this Secretary: when I went this morning he had
+people with him; but says he, “we are to dine with Prior to-day, and then
+will do all our business in the afternoon”: at two, Prior sends word he
+is otherwise engaged; then the Secretary and I go and dine with Brigadier
+Britton, sit till eight, grow merry, no business done; he is in haste to
+see Lady Jersey; {326b} we part, and appoint no time to meet again.  This
+is the fault of all the present Ministers, teasing me to death for my
+assistance, laying the whole weight of their affairs upon it, yet
+slipping opportunities.  Lord Treasurer mends every day, though slowly: I
+hope he will take care of himself.  Pray, will you send to Parvisol to
+send me a bill of twenty pounds as soon as he can, for I want money.  I
+must have money; I will have money, sirrahs.
+
+Nov. 1.  I went to-day into the City to settle some business with
+Stratford, and to dine with him; but he was engaged, and I was so angry I
+would not dine with any other merchant, but went to my printer, and ate a
+bit, and did business of mischief with him, and I shall have the
+spectacles and _Miscellany_ to-morrow, and leave them with Leigh.  A fine
+day always makes me go into the City, if I can spare time, because it is
+exercise; and that does me more good than anything.  I have heard nothing
+since of my head, but a little, I don’t know how, sometimes: but I am
+very temperate, especially now the Treasurer is ill, and the Ministers
+often at Hampton Court, and the Secretary not yet fixed in his house, and
+I hate dining with many of my old acquaintance.  Here has been a fellow
+discovered going out of the East India House with sixteen thousand pounds
+in money and bills; he would have escaped, if he had not been so uneasy
+with thirst, that he stole out before his time, and was caught.  But what
+is that to MD?  I wish we had the money, provided the East India Company
+was never the worse; you know we must not covet, etc.  Our weather, for
+this fortnight past, is chequered, a fair and a rainy day: this was very
+fine, and I have walked four miles; wish MD would do so, lazy sluttikins.
+
+2.  It has rained all day with a continuendo, and I went in a chair to
+dine with Mrs. Van; always there in a very rainy day.  But I made a shift
+to come back afoot.  I live a very retired life, pay very few visits, and
+keep but very little company; I read no newspapers.  I am sorry I sent
+you the _Examiner_, for the printer is going to print them in a small
+volume: it seems the author is too proud to have them printed by
+subscription, though his friends offered, they say, to make it worth five
+hundred pounds to him.  The _Spectators_ are likewise printing in a
+larger and a smaller volume, so I believe they are going to leave them
+off, and indeed people grow weary of them, though they are often prettily
+written.  We have had no news for me to send you now towards the end of
+my letter.  The Queen has the gout a little: I hoped the Lord Treasurer
+would have had it too, but Radcliffe told me yesterday it was the
+rheumatism in his knee and foot; however, he mends, and I hope will be
+abroad in a short time.  I am told they design giving away several
+employments before the Parliament sits, which will be the thirteenth
+instant.  I either do not like, or not understand this policy; and if
+Lord Treasurer does not mend soon, they must give them just before the
+session.  But he is the greatest procrastinator in the world.
+
+3.  A fine day this, and I walked a pretty deal.  I stuffed the
+Secretary’s pockets with papers, which he must read and settle at Hampton
+Court, where he went to-day, and stays some time.  They have no lodgings
+for me there, so I can’t go, for the town is small, chargeable, and
+inconvenient.  Lord Treasurer had a very ill night last night, with much
+pain in his knee and foot, but is easier to-day.—And so I went to visit
+Prior about some business, and so he was not within, and so Sir Andrew
+Fountaine made me dine to-day again with Mrs. Van, and I came home soon,
+remembering this must go to-night, and that I had a letter of MD’s to
+answer.  O Lord, where is it? let me see; so, so, here it is.  You grudge
+writing so soon.  Pox on that bill! the woman would have me manage that
+money for her.  I do not know what to do with it now I have it: I am like
+the unprofitable steward in the Gospel: I laid it up in a napkin; there
+thou hast what is thine own, etc.  Well, well, I know of your new Mayor.
+(I’ll tell you a pun: a fishmonger owed a man two crowns; so he sent him
+a piece of bad ling and a tench, and then said he was paid: how is that
+now? find it out; for I won’t tell it you: which of you finds it out?)
+Well, but as I was saying, what care I for your Mayor?  I fancy Ford may
+tell Forbes right about my returning to Ireland before Christmas, or soon
+after.  I’m sorry you did not go on with your story about Pray God you be
+John; I never heard it in my life, and wonder what it can be.—Ah, Stella,
+faith, you leaned upon your Bible to think what to say when you writ
+that.  Yes, that story of the Secretary’s making me an example is true;
+“never heard it before;” why, how could you hear it? is it possible to
+tell you the hundredth part of what passes in our companies here?  The
+Secretary is as easy with me as Mr. Addison was.  I have often thought
+what a splutter Sir William Temple makes about being Secretary of State:
+{329a} I think Mr. St. John the greatest young man I ever knew; wit,
+capacity, beauty, quickness of apprehension, good learning, and an
+excellent taste; the best orator in the House of Commons, admirable
+conversation, good nature, and good manners; generous, and a despiser of
+money.  His only fault is talking to his friends in way of complaint of
+too great a load of business, which looks a little like affectation; and
+he endeavours too much to mix the fine gentleman and man of pleasure with
+the man of business.  What truth and sincerity he may have I know not: he
+is now but thirty-two, and has been Secretary above a year.  Is not all
+this extraordinary? how he stands with the Queen and Lord Treasurer I
+have told you before.  This is his character; and I believe you will be
+diverted by knowing it.  I writ to the Archbishop of Dublin, Bishop of
+Cloyne {329b} and of Clogher together, five weeks ago from Windsor: I
+hope they had my letters; pray know if Clogher had his.—Fig for your
+physician and his advice, Madam Dingley: if I grow worse, I will;
+otherwise I will trust to temperance and exercise: your fall of the leaf;
+what care I when the leaves fall?  I am sorry to see them fall with all
+my heart; but why should I take physic because leaves fall off from
+trees? that won’t hinder them from falling.  If a man falls from a horse,
+must I take physic for that?—This arguing makes you mad; but it is true
+right reason, not to be disproved.—I am glad at heart to hear poor Stella
+is better; use exercise and walk, spend pattens and spare potions, wear
+out clogs and waste claret.  Have you found out my pun of the fishmonger?
+don’t read a word more till you have got it.  And Stella is handsome
+again, you say? and is she fat?  I have sent to Leigh the set of
+_Examiners_: the first thirteen were written by several hands, some good,
+some bad; the next three-and-thirty were all by one hand, that makes
+forty-six: then that author, {330a} whoever he was, laid it down on
+purpose to confound guessers; and the last six were written by a woman.
+{330b}  Then there is an account of Guiscard by the same woman, but the
+facts sent by Presto.  Then an answer to the letter to the Lords about
+Gregg by Presto; Prior’s _Journey_ by Presto; _Vindication of the Duke of
+Marlborough_, entirely by the same woman; Comment on Hare’s Sermon by the
+same woman, only hints sent to the printer from Presto to give her.
+{330c}  Then there’s the _Miscellany_, an apron for Stella, a pound of
+chocolate, without sugar, for Stella, a fine snuff-rasp of ivory, given
+me by Mrs. St. John for Dingley, and a large roll of tobacco, which she
+must hide or cut shorter out of modesty, and four pair of spectacles for
+the Lord knows who.  There’s the cargo, I hope it will come safe.  Oh,
+Mrs. Masham and I are very well; we write to one another, but it is upon
+business; I believe I told you so before: pray pardon my forgetfulness in
+these cases; poor Presto can’t help it.  MD shall have the money as soon
+as Tooke gets it.  And so I think I have answered all, and the paper is
+out, and now I have fetched up my week, and will send you another this
+day fortnight.—Why, you rogues, two crowns make _tench-ill-ling_: {331}
+you are so dull you could never have found it out.  Farewell, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXIV.
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Nov._ 3, 1711.
+
+MY thirty-third lies now before me just finished, and I am going to seal
+and send it, so let me know whether you would have me add anything: I
+gave you my journal of this day; and it is now nine at night, and I am
+going to be busy for an hour or two.
+
+4.  I left a friend’s house to-day where I was invited, just when dinner
+was setting on, and pretended I was engaged, because I saw some fellows I
+did not know; and went to Sir Matthew Dudley’s, where I had the same
+inconvenience, but he would not let me go; otherwise I would have gone
+home, and sent for a slice of mutton and a pot of ale, rather than dine
+with persons unknown, as bad, for aught I know, as your deans, parsons,
+and curates.  Bad slabby weather to-day.—Now methinks I write at ease,
+when I have no letter of MD’s to answer.  But I mistook, and have got the
+large paper.  The Queen is laid up with the gout at Hampton Court: she is
+now seldom without it any long time together; I fear it will wear her out
+in a very few years.  I plainly find I have less twitchings about my toes
+since these Ministers are sick and out of town, and that I don’t dine
+with them.  I would compound for a light easy gout to be perfectly well
+in my head.—Pray walk when the frost comes, young ladies go a
+frost-biting.  It comes into my head, that, from the very time you first
+went to Ireland, I have been always plying you to walk and read.  The
+young fellows here have begun a kind of fashion to walk, and many of them
+have got swingeing strong shoes on purpose; it has got as far as several
+young lords; if it hold, it would be a very good thing.  Lady Lucy {332a}
+and I are fallen out; she rails at me, and I have left visiting her.
+
+5.  MD was very troublesome to me last night in my sleep; I was a
+dreamed, methought, that Stella was here.  I asked her after Dingley, and
+she said she had left her in Ireland, because she designed her stay to be
+short, and such stuff.—Monsieur Pontchartain, the Secretary of State in
+France, and Monsieur Fontenelle, the Secretary of the Royal Academy there
+(who writ the _Dialogues des Morts_, etc.), have sent letters to Lord
+Pembroke that the Academy have, with the King’s consent, chosen him one
+of their members in the room of one who is lately dead.  But the cautious
+gentleman has given me the letters to show my Lord Dartmouth and Mr. St.
+John, our two Secretaries, and let them see there is no treason in them;
+which I will do on Wednesday, when they come from Hampton Court.  The
+letters are very handsome, and it is a very great mark of honour and
+distinction to Lord Pembroke.  I hear the two French Ministers are come
+over again about the peace; but I have seen nobody of consequence to know
+the truth.  I dined to-day with a lady of my acquaintance, who was sick,
+in her bed-chamber, upon three herrings and a chicken: the dinner was my
+bespeaking.  We begin now to have chestnuts and Seville oranges; have you
+the latter yet?  ’Twas a terrible windy day, and we had processions in
+carts of the Pope and the Devil, and the butchers rang their cleavers.
+You know this is the Fifth of November, Popery and gunpowder.
+
+6.  Since I am used to this way of writing, I fancy I could hardly make
+out a long letter to MD without it.  I think I ought to allow for every
+line taken up by telling you where I dined; but that will not be above
+seven lines in all, half a line to a dinner.  Your Ingoldsby {332b} is
+going over, and they say here he is to be made a lord.—Here was I staying
+in my room till two this afternoon for that puppy Sir Andrew Fountaine,
+who was to go with me into the City, and never came; and if I had not
+shot a dinner flying, with one Mr. Murray, I might have fasted, or gone
+to an alehouse.—You never said one word of Goody Stoyte in your letter;
+but I suppose these winter nights we shall hear more of her.  Does the
+Provost {333a} laugh as much as he used to do?  We reckon him here a
+good-for-nothing fellow.—I design to write to your Dean one of these
+days, but I can never find time, nor what to say.—I will think of
+something: but if DD {333b} were not in Ireland I believe seriously I
+should not think of the place twice a year.  Nothing there ever makes the
+subject of talk in any company where I am.
+
+7.  I went to-day to the City on business; but stopped at a printer’s,
+and stayed there: it was a most delicious day.  I hear the Parliament is
+to be prorogued for a fortnight longer; I suppose, either because the
+Queen has the gout, or that Lord Treasurer is not well, or that they
+would do something more towards a peace.  I called at Lord Treasurer’s at
+noon, and sat a while with Lord Harley, but his father was asleep.  A
+bookseller has reprinted or new-titled a sermon of Tom Swift’s, {333c}
+printed last year, and publishes an advertisement calling it _Dr. Swift’s
+Sermon_.  Some friend of Lord Galway {333d} has, by his directions,
+published a four-shilling book about his conduct in Spain, to defend him;
+I have but just seen it.  But what care you for books, except Presto’s
+_Miscellanies_?  Leigh promised to call and see me, but has not yet; I
+hope he will take care of his cargo, and get your Chester box.  A murrain
+take that box! everything is spoiled that is in it.  How does the strong
+box do?  You say nothing of Raymond: is his wife brought to bed again; or
+how? has he finished his house; paid his debts; and put out the rest of
+the money to use?  I am glad to hear poor Joe is like to get his two
+hundred pounds.  I suppose Trim is now reduced to slavery again.  I am
+glad of it; the people were as great rascals as the gentlemen.  But I
+must go to bed, sirrahs: the Secretary is still at Hampton Court with my
+papers, or is come only to-night.  They plague me with attending them.
+
+8.  I was with the Secretary this morning, and we dined with Prior, and
+did business this afternoon till about eight; and I must alter and undo,
+and a clutter.  I am glad the Parliament is prorogued.  I stayed with
+Prior till eleven; the Secretary left us at eight.  Prior, I believe,
+will be one of those employed to make the peace, when a Congress is
+opened.  Lord Ashburnham told to-day at the Coffee-house that Lord Harley
+{334a} was yesterday morning married to the Duke of Newcastle’s daughter,
+the great heiress, and it got about all the town.  But I saw Lord Harley
+yesterday at noon in his nightgown, and he dined in the City with Prior
+and others; so it is not true; but I hope it will be so; for I know it
+has been privately managing this long time: {334b} the lady will not have
+half her father’s estate; for the Duke left Lord Pelham’s son his heir.
+{334c}  The widow Duchess will not stand to the will, and she is now at
+law with Pelham.  However, at worst, the girl will have about ten
+thousand pounds a year to support the honour; for Lord Treasurer will
+never save a groat for himself.  Lord Harley is a very valuable young
+gentleman; and they say the girl is handsome, and has good sense, but red
+hair.
+
+9.  I designed a jaunt into the City to-day to be merry, but was
+disappointed; so one always is in this life; and I could not see Lord
+Dartmouth to-day, with whom I had some business.  Business and pleasure
+both disappointed.  You can go to your Dean, and for want of him, Goody
+Stoyte, or Walls, or Manley, and meet everywhere with cards and claret.
+I dined privately with a friend on a herring and chicken, and half a
+flask of bad Florence.  I begin to have fires now, when the mornings are
+cold.  I have got some loose bricks at the back of my grate for good
+husbandry.  Fine weather.  Patrick tells me my caps are wearing out.  I
+know not how to get others.  I want a necessary woman strangely.  I am as
+helpless as an elephant.—I had three packets from the Archbishop of
+Dublin, cost me four shillings, all about Higgins, {335a} printed stuff,
+and two long letters.  His people forgot to enclose them to Lewis; and
+they were only directed to Doctor Swift, without naming London or
+anything else.  I wonder how they reached me, unless the postmaster
+directed them.  I have read all the trash, and am weary.
+
+10.  Why, if you must have it out, something is to be published of great
+moment, {335b} and three or four great people are to see there are no
+mistakes in point of fact: and ’tis so troublesome to send it among them,
+and get their corrections, that I am weary as a dog.  I dined to-day with
+the printer, and was there all the afternoon; and it plagues me, and
+there’s an end, and what would you have?  Lady Dupplin, Lord Treasurer’s
+daughter, {335c} is brought to bed of a son.  Lord Treasurer has had an
+ugly return of his gravel.  ’Tis good for us to live in gravel pits,
+{335d} but not for gravel pits to live in us; a man in this case should
+leave no stone unturned.  Lord Treasurer’s sickness, the Queen’s gout,
+the forwarding the peace, occasion putting off the Parliament a fortnight
+longer.  My head has had no ill returns.  I had good walking to-day in
+the City, and take all opportunities of it on purpose for my health; but
+I can’t walk in the Park, because that is only for walking’s sake, and
+loses time, so I mix it with business.  I wish MD walked half as much as
+Presto.  If I was with you, I’d make you walk; I would walk behind or
+before you, and you should have masks on, and be tucked up like anything;
+and Stella is naturally a stout walker, and carries herself firm;
+methinks I see her strut, and step clever over a kennel; and Dingley
+would do well enough if her petticoats were pinned up; but she is so
+embroiled, and so fearful, and then Stella scolds, and Dingley stumbles,
+and is so daggled. {336a}  Have you got the whalebone petticoats among
+you yet?  I hate them; a woman here may hide a moderate gallant under
+them.  Pshaw, what’s all this I’m saying?  Methinks I am talking to MD
+face to face.
+
+11.  Did I tell you that old Frowde, {336b} the old fool, is selling his
+estate at Pepperhara, and is skulking about the town nobody knows where?
+and who do you think manages all this for him, but that rogue Child,
+{336c} the double squire of Farnham?  I have put Mrs. Masham, the Queen’s
+favourite, upon buying it, but that is yet a great secret; and I have
+employed Lady Oglethorpe to inquire about it.  I was with Lady Oglethorpe
+to-day, who is come to town for a week or two, and to-morrow I will see
+to hunt out the old fool: he is utterly ruined, and at this present in
+some blind alley with some dirty wench.  He has two sons that must
+starve, and he never gives them a farthing.  If Mrs. Masham buys the
+land, I will desire her to get the Queen to give some pension to the old
+fool, to keep him from absolutely starving.  What do you meddle with
+other people’s affairs for? says Stella.  Oh, but Mr. Masham and his wife
+are very urgent with me, since I first put them in the head of it.  I
+dined with Sir Matthew Dudley, who, I doubt, will soon lose his
+employment.
+
+12.  Morning.  I am going to hunt out old Frowde, and to do some business
+in the City.  I have not yet called to Patrick to know whether it be
+fair.—It has been past dropping these two days.  Rainy weather hurts my
+pate and my purse.  He tells me ’tis very windy, and begins to look dark;
+woe be to my shillings! an old saying and a true,
+
+   Few fillings,
+   Many shillings.
+
+If the day be dark, my purse will be light.
+
+   To my enemies be this curse,
+   A dark day and a light purse.
+
+And so I’ll rise, and go to my fire, for Patrick tells me I have a fire;
+yet it is not shaving-day, nor is the weather cold; this is too
+extravagant.  What is become of Dilly?  I suppose you have him with you.
+Stella is just now showing a white leg, and putting it into the slipper.
+Present my service to her, and tell her I am engaged to the Dean, and
+desire she will come too: or, Dingley, can’t you write a note?  This is
+Stella’s morning dialogue, no, morning speech I mean.—Morrow, sirrahs,
+and let me rise as well as you; but I promise you Walls can’t dine with
+the Dean to-day, for she is to be at Mrs. Proby’s just after dinner, and
+to go with Gracy Spencer {337} to the shops to buy a yard of muslin, and
+a silver lace for an under petticoat.  Morrow again, sirrahs.—At night.
+I dined with Stratford in the City, but could not finish my affairs with
+him; but now I am resolved to buy five hundred pounds South Sea Stock,
+which will cost me three hundred and eighty ready money; and I will make
+use of the bill of a hundred pounds you sent me, and transfer Mrs. Walls
+over to Hawkshaw; or if she dislikes it, I will borrow a hundred pounds
+of the Secretary, and repay her.  Three shillings coach-hire to-day.  I
+have spoken to Frowde’s brother to get me the lowest price of the estate,
+to tell Mrs. Masham.
+
+13.  I dined privately with a friend to-day in the neighbourhood.  Last
+Saturday night I came home, and the drab had just washed my room, and my
+bed-chamber was all wet, and I was forced to go to bed in my own defence,
+and no fire: I was sick on Sunday, and now have got a swingeing cold.  I
+scolded like a dog at Patrick, although he was out with me: I detest
+washing of rooms; can’t they wash them in a morning, and make a fire, and
+leave open the windows?  I slept not a wink last night for hawking {338a}
+and spitting: and now everybody has colds.  Here’s a clutter: I’ll go to
+bed and sleep if I can.
+
+14.  Lady Mountjoy sent to me two days ago, so I dined with her to-day,
+and in the evening went to see Lord Treasurer.  I found Patrick had been
+just there with a how d’ye, {338b} and my lord had returned answer that
+he desired to see me.  Mrs. Masham was with him when I came, and they are
+never disturbed: ’tis well she is not very handsome; they sit alone
+together settling the nation.  I sat with Lady Oxford, and stopped Mrs.
+Masham as she came out, and told her what progress I had made, etc., and
+then went to Lord Treasurer: he is very well, only uneasy at rising or
+sitting, with some rheumatic pain in his thigh, and a foot weak.  He
+showed me a small paper, sent by an unknown hand to one Mr. Cook, who
+sent it to my lord: it was written in plain large letters thus
+
+    “Though G—d’s knife did not succeed,
+    A F—n’s yet may do the deed.”
+
+And a little below: “_Burn this_, _you dog_.”  My lord has frequently
+such letters as these: once he showed me one, which was a vision
+describing a certain man, his dress, his sword, and his countenance, who
+was to murder my lord.  And he told me he saw a fellow in the chapel at
+Windsor with a dress very like it.  They often send him letters signed,
+“Your humble servant, The Devil,” and such stuff.  I sat with him till
+after ten, and have business to do.
+
+15.  The Secretary came yesterday to town from Hampton Court, so I went
+to him early this morning; but he went back last night again: and coming
+home to-night I found a letter from him to tell me that he was just come
+from Hampton Court, and just returning, and will not be here till
+Saturday night.  A pox take him! he stops all my business.  I’ll beg
+leave to come back when I have got over this, and hope to see MD in
+Ireland soon after Christmas.—I’m weary of Courts, and want my journeys
+to Laracor; they did me more good than all the Ministries these twenty
+years.  I dined to-day in the City, but did no business as I designed.
+Lady Mountjoy tells me that Dilly is got to Ireland, and that the
+Archbishop of Dublin was the cause of his returning so soon.  The
+Parliament was prorogued two days ago for a fortnight, which, with the
+Queen’s absence, makes the town very dull and empty.  They tell me the
+Duke of Ormond brings all the world away with him from Ireland.  London
+has nothing so bad in it in winter as your knots of Irish folks; but I go
+to no coffee-house, and so I seldom see them.  This letter shall go on
+Saturday; and then I am even with the world again.  I have lent money,
+and cannot get it, and am forced to borrow for myself.
+
+16.  My man made a blunder this morning, and let up a visitor, when I had
+ordered to see nobody; so I was forced to hurry a hang-dog instrument of
+mine into my bed-chamber, and keep him cooling his heels there above an
+hour.—I am going on fairly in the common forms of a great cold; I believe
+it will last me about ten days in all.—I should have told you, that in
+those two verses sent to Lord Treasurer, G—d stands for Guiscard; that is
+easy; but we differed about F—n; I thought it was for Frenchman, because
+he hates them, and they him: and so it would be, That although Guiscard’s
+knife missed its design, the knife of a Frenchman might yet do it.  My
+lord thinks it stands for Felton, the name of him that stabbed the first
+Duke of Buckingham. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined with the Vans
+to-day, and my cold made me loiter all the evening.  Stay, young women,
+don’t you begin to owe me a letter? just a month to-day since I had your
+N. 22.  I’ll stay a week longer, and then, I’ll expect like agog; till
+then you may play at ombre, and so forth, as you please.  The Whigs are
+still crying down our peace, but we will have it, I hope, in spite of
+them: the Emperor comes now with his two eggs a penny, and promises
+wonders to continue the war; but it is too late; only I hope the fear of
+it will serve to spur on the French to be easy and sincere:  Night,
+sirrahs; I’ll go early to bed.
+
+17.  Morning.  This goes to-night; I will put it myself in the
+post-office.  I had just now a long letter from the Archbishop of Dublin,
+giving me an account of the ending your session, how it ended in a storm;
+which storm, by the time it arrives here, will be only half nature.  I
+can’t help it, I won’t hide.  I often advised the dissolution of that
+Parliament, although I did not think the scoundrels had so much courage;
+but they have it only in the wrong, like a bully that will fight for a
+whore, and run away in an army.  I believe, by several things the
+Archbishop says, he is not very well either with the Government or
+clergy.—See how luckily my paper ends with a fortnight.—God Almighty
+bless and preserve dearest little MD.—I suppose your Lord Lieutenant is
+now setting out for England.  I wonder the Bishop of Clogher does not
+write to me, or let me know of his statues, and how he likes them: I will
+write to him again, as soon as I have leisure.  Farewell, dearest MD, and
+love Presto, who loves MD infinitely above all earthly things, and who
+will.—My service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine.  I’m sitting in my bed,
+but will rise to seal this.  Morrow, dear rogues: Farewell again, dearest
+MD, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXV.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Nov._ 17, 1711.
+
+I PUT my last this evening in the post-office.  I dined with Dr.
+Cockburn.  This being Queen Elizabeth’s birthday, we have the D— and all
+to do among us.  I just heard of the stir as my letter was sealed this
+morning, and was so cross I would not open it to tell you.  I have been
+visiting Lady Oglethorpe {341a} and Lady Worsley; {341b} the latter is
+lately come to town for the winter, and with child, and what care you?
+This is Queen Elizabeth’s birthday, usually kept in this town by
+apprentices, etc.; but the Whigs designed a mighty procession by
+midnight, and had laid out a thousand pounds to dress up the Pope, Devil,
+cardinals, Sacheverell, etc., and carry them with torches about, and burn
+them.  They did it by contribution.  Garth gave five guineas; Dr. Garth I
+mean, if ever you heard of him.  But they were seized last night, by
+order from the Secretary: you will have an account of it, for they bawl
+it about the streets already. {341c}  They had some very foolish and
+mischievous designs; and it was thought they would have put the rabble
+upon assaulting my Lord Treasurer’s house and the Secretary’s, and other
+violences.  The militia was raised to prevent it, and now, I suppose, all
+will be quiet.  The figures are now at the Secretary’s office at
+Whitehall.  I design to see them if I can.
+
+18.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary, who just came from Hampton
+Court.  He was telling me more particulars about this business of burning
+the Pope.  It cost a great deal of money, and had it gone on, would have
+cost three times as much; but the town is full of it, and half a dozen
+Grub Street papers already.  The Secretary and I dined at Brigadier
+Britton’s, but I left them at six, upon an appointment with some sober
+company of men and ladies, to drink punch at Sir Andrew Fountaine’s.  We
+were not very merry; and I don’t love rack punch, I love it better with
+brandy; are you of my opinion?  Why then, twelvepenny weather; sirrahs,
+why don’t you play at shuttlecock?  I have thought of it a hundred times;
+faith, Presto will come over after Christmas, and will play with Stella
+before the cold weather is gone.  Do you read the _Spectators_?  I never
+do; they never come in my way; I go to no coffee-houses.  They say
+abundance of them are very pretty; they are going to be printed in small
+volumes; I’ll bring them over with me.  I shall be out of my hurry in a
+week, and if Leigh be not gone over, I will send you by him what I am now
+finishing.  I don’t know where Leigh is; I have not seen him this good
+while, though he promised to call: I shall send to him.  The Queen comes
+to town on Thursday for good and all.
+
+19.  I was this morning at Lord Dartmouth’s office, and sent out for him
+from the Committee of Council, about some business.  I was asking him
+more concerning this bustle about the figures in wax-work of the Pope,
+and Devil, etc.  He was not at leisure, or he would have seen them.  I
+hear the owners are so impudent, that they design to replevin them by
+law.  I am assured that the figure of the Devil is made as like Lord
+Treasurer as they could.  Why, I dined with a friend in St. James’s
+Street.  Lord Treasurer, I am told, was abroad to-day; I will know
+to-morrow how he does after it.  The Duke of Marlborough is come, and was
+yesterday at Hampton Court with the Queen; no, it was t’other day; no, it
+was yesterday; for to-day I remember Mr. Secretary was going to see him,
+when I was there, not at the Duke of Marlborough’s, but at the
+Secretary’s; the Duke is not so fond of me.  What care I?  I won seven
+shillings to-night at picquet: I play twice a year or so.
+
+20.  I have been so teased with Whiggish discourse by Mrs. Barton and
+Lady Betty Germaine, never saw the like.  They turn all this affair of
+the Pope-burning into ridicule; and, indeed, they have made too great a
+clutter about it, if they had no real reason to apprehend some tumults.
+I dined with Lady Betty.  I hear Prior’s commission is passed to be
+Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary for the peace; my Lord Privy
+Seal, who you know is Bishop of Bristol, is the other; and Lord
+Strafford, already Ambassador at The Hague, the third: I am forced to
+tell you, ignorant sluts, who is who.  I was punning scurvily with Sir
+Andrew Fountaine and Lord Pembroke this evening: do you ever pun now?
+Sometimes with the Dean, or Tom Leigh. {343a}  Prior puns very well.
+Odso, I must go see His Excellency, ’tis a noble advancement: but they
+could do no less, after sending him to France.  Lord Strafford is as
+proud as Hell, and how he will bear one of Prior’s mean birth on an equal
+character with him, I know not.  And so I go to my business, and bid you
+good-night.
+
+21.  I was this morning busy with my printer: I gave him the fifth sheet,
+{343b} and then I went and dined with him in the City, to correct
+something, and alter, etc., and I walked home in the dusk, and the rain
+overtook me: and I found a letter here from Mr. Lewis; well, and so I
+opened it; and he says the peace is past danger, etc.  Well, and so there
+was another letter enclosed in his: well, and so I looked on the outside
+of this t’other letter.  Well, and so who do you think this t’other
+letter was from?  Well, and so I’ll tell you; it was from little MD, N.
+23, 23, 23, 23.  I tell you it is no more, I have told you so before: but
+I just looked again to satisfy you.  Hie, Stella, you write like an
+emperor, a great deal together; a very good hand, and but four false
+spellings in all.  Shall I send them to you?  I am glad you did not take
+my correction ill.  Well, but I won’t answer your letter now, sirrah
+saucyboxes, no, no; not yet; just a month and three days from the last,
+which is just five weeks: you see it comes just when I begin to grumble.
+
+22.  Morning.  Tooke has just brought me Dingley’s money.  I will give
+you a note for it at the end of this letter.  There was half a crown for
+entering the letter of attorney; but I swore to stop that.  I’ll spend
+your money bravely here.  Morrow, dear sirrahs.—At night.  I dined to-day
+with Sir Thomas Hanmer; his wife, the Duchess of Grafton, {344a} dined
+with us: she wears a great high head-dress, such as was in fashion
+fifteen years ago, and looks like a mad woman in it; yet she has great
+remains of beauty.  I was this evening to see Lord Harley, and thought to
+have sat with Lord Treasurer, but he was taken up with the Dutch Envoy
+and such folks; and I would not stay.  One particular in life here,
+different from what I have in Dublin, is, that whenever I come home I
+expect to find some letter for me, and seldom miss; and never any worth a
+farthing, but often to vex me.  The Queen does not come to town till
+Saturday.  Prior is not yet declared; but these Ministers being at
+Hampton Court, I know nothing; and if I write news from common hands, it
+is always lies.  You will think it affectation; but nothing has vexed me
+more for some months past, than people I never saw pretending to be
+acquainted with me, and yet speak ill of me too; at least some of them.
+An old crooked Scotch countess, whom I never heard of in my life, told
+the Duchess of Hamilton {344b} t’other day that I often visited her.
+People of worth never do that; so that a man only gets the scandal of
+having scurvy acquaintance.  Three ladies were railing against me some
+time ago, and said they were very well acquainted with me; two of which I
+had never heard of, and the third I had only seen twice where I happened
+to visit.  A man who has once seen me in a coffee-house will ask me how I
+do, when he sees me talking at Court with a Minister of State; who is
+sure to ask me how I came acquainted with that scoundrel.  But come,
+sirrahs, this is all stuff to you, so I’ll say no more on this side the
+paper, but turn over.
+
+23.  My printer invited Mr. Lewis and me to dine at a tavern to-day,
+which I have not done five times since I came to England; I never will
+call it Britain, pray don’t call it Britain.  My week is not out, and one
+side of this paper is out, and I have a letter to answer of MD’s into the
+bargain: must I write on the third side? faith, that will give you an ill
+habit.  I saw Leigh last night: he gives a terrible account of Sterne; he
+reckons he is seduced by some wench; he is over head and ears in debt,
+and has pawned several things.  Leigh says he goes on Monday next for
+Ireland, but believes Sterne will not go with him; Sterne has kept him
+these three months.  Leigh has got the apron and things, and promises to
+call for the box at Chester; but I despair of it.  Good-night, sirrahs; I
+have been late abroad.
+
+24.  I have finished my pamphlet {345a} to-day, which has cost me so much
+time and trouble: it will be published in three or four days, when the
+Parliament begins sitting.  I suppose the Queen is come to town, but know
+nothing, having been in the City finishing and correcting with the
+printer.  When I came home, I found letters on my table as usual, and one
+from your mother, to tell me that you desire your writings and a picture
+should be sent to me, to be sent over to you.  I have just answered her
+letter, and promised to take care of them if they be sent to me.  She is
+at Farnham: it is too late to send them by Leigh; besides, I will wait
+your orders, Madam Stella.  I am going to finish a letter to Lord
+Treasurer about reforming our language; {345b} but first I must put an
+end to a ballad; and go you to your cards, sirrahs, this is card season.
+
+25.  I was early with the Secretary to-day, but he was gone to his
+devotions, and to receive the sacrament: several rakes did the same; it
+was not for piety, but employments; according to Act of Parliament.  I
+dined with Lady Mary Dudley; {346a} and passed my time since insipidly,
+only I was at Court at noon, and saw fifty acquaintance I had not met
+this long time: that is the advantage of a Court, and I fancy I am better
+known than any man that goes there.  Sir John Walter’s {346b} quarrel
+with me has entertained the town ever since; and yet we never had a word,
+only he railed at me behind my back.  The Parliament is again to be
+prorogued for eight or nine days, for the Whigs are too strong in the
+House of Lords: other reasons are pretended, but that is the truth.  The
+prorogation is not yet known, but will be to-morrow.
+
+26.  Mr. Lewis and I dined with a friend of his, and unexpectedly there
+dined with us an Irish knight, one Sir John St. Leger, {346c} who follows
+the law here, but at a great distance: he was so pert, I was forced to
+take him down more than once.  I saw to-day the Pope, and Devil, and the
+other figures of cardinals, etc., fifteen in all, which have made such a
+noise.  I have put an under-strapper upon writing a twopenny pamphlet
+{346d} to give an account of the whole design.  My large pamphlet {346e}
+will be published to-morrow; copies are sent to the great men this night.
+Domville {346f} is come home from his travels; I am vexed at it: I have
+not seen him yet; I design to present him to all the great men.
+
+27.  Domville came to me this morning, and we dined at Pontack’s, and
+were all day together, till six this evening: he is perfectly as fine a
+gentleman as I know; he set me down at Lord Treasurer’s, with whom I
+stayed about an hour, till Monsieur Buys, the Dutch Envoy, came to him
+about business.  My Lord Treasurer is pretty well, but stiff in the hips
+with the remains of the rheumatism.  I am to bring Domville to my Lord
+Harley in a day or two.  It was the dirtiest rainy day that ever I saw.
+The pamphlet is published; Lord Treasurer had it by him on the table, and
+was asking me about the mottoes in the title-page; he gave me one of them
+himself. {347a}  I must send you the pamphlet, if I can.
+
+28.  Mrs. Van sent to me to dine with her to-day, because some ladies of
+my acquaintance were to be there; and there I dined.  I was this morning
+to return Domville his visit, and went to visit Mrs. Masham, who was not
+within.  I am turned out of my lodging by my landlady: it seems her
+husband and her son are coming home; but I have taken another lodging
+hard by, in Leicester Fields.  I presented Mr. Domville to Mr. Lewis and
+Mr. Prior this morning.  Prior and I are called the two Sosias, {347b} in
+a Whig newspaper.  Sosias, can you read it?  The pamphlet begins to make
+a noise: I was asked by several whether I had seen it, and they advised
+me to read it, for it was something very extraordinary.  I shall be
+suspected; and it will have several paltry answers.  It must take its
+fate, as Savage {347c} said of his sermon that he preached at Farnham on
+Sir William Temple’s death.  Domville saw Savage in Italy, and says he is
+a coxcomb, and half mad: he goes in red, and with yellow waistcoats, and
+was at ceremony kneeling to the Pope on a Palm Sunday, which is much more
+than kissing his toe; and I believe it will ruin him here when ’tis told.
+I’ll answer your letter in my new lodgings: I have hardly room; I must
+borrow from the other side.
+
+29.  New lodgings.  My printer came this morning to tell me he must
+immediately print a second edition, {347d} and Lord Treasurer made one or
+two small additions: they must work day and night to have it out on
+Saturday; they sold a thousand in two days.  Our Society met to-day; nine
+of us were present: we dined at our brother Bathurst’s. {348a}  We made
+several regulations, and have chosen three new members, Lord Orrery,
+{348b} Jack Hill, who is Mrs. Masham’s brother, he that lately miscarried
+in the expedition to Quebec, and one Colonel Disney. {348c}—We have taken
+a room in a house near St. James’s to meet in.  I left them early about
+correcting the pamphlet, etc., and am now got home, etc.
+
+30.  This morning I carried Domville to see my Lord Harley, and I did
+some business with Lord Treasurer, and have been all this afternoon with
+the printer, adding something to the second edition.  I dined with the
+printer: the pamphlet makes a world of noise, and will do a great deal of
+good; it tells abundance of most important facts which were not at all
+known.  I’ll answer your letter to-morrow morning; or suppose I answer it
+just now, though it is pretty late.  Come then.—You say you are busy with
+Parliaments, etc.; that’s more than ever I will be when I come back; but
+you will have none these two years.  Lord Santry, etc., yes, I have had
+enough on’t. {348d}  I am glad Dilly is mended; does not he thank me for
+showing him the Court and the great people’s faces?  He had his glass out
+at the Queen and the rest.  ’Tis right what Dilly says: I depend upon
+nothing from my friends, but to go back as I came.  Never fear Laracor,
+’twill mend with a peace, or surely they’ll give me the Dublin parish.
+Stella is in the right: the Bishop of Ossory {348e} is the silliest,
+best-natured wretch breathing, of as little consequence as an egg-shell.
+Well, the spelling I have mentioned before; only the next time say _at
+least_, and not _at lest_.  Pox on your Newbury! {349a} what can I do for
+him?  I’ll give his case (I am glad it is not a woman’s) to what members
+I know; that’s all I can do.  Lord Treasurer’s lameness goes off daily.
+Pray God preserve poor good Mrs. Stoyte; she would be a great loss to us
+all: pray give her my service, and tell her she has my heartiest prayers.
+I pity poor Mrs. Manley; but I think the child is happy to die,
+considering how little provision it would have had.—Poh, every pamphlet
+abuses me, and for things that I never writ.  Joe {349b} should have
+written me thanks for his two hundred pounds: I reckon he got it by my
+means; and I must thank the Duke of Ormond, who I dare swear will say he
+did it on my account.  Are they golden pippins, those seven apples?  We
+have had much rain every day as well as you.  £7, 17s., 8d., old
+blunderer, not 18s.: I have reckoned it eighteen times.  Hawkshaw’s eight
+pounds is not reckoned and if it be secure, it may lie where it is,
+unless they desire to pay it: so Parvisol may let it drop till further
+orders; for I have put Mrs. Wesley’s money into the Bank, and will pay
+her with Hawkshaw’s.—I mean that Hawkshaw’s money goes for an addition to
+MD, you know; but be good housewives.  Bernage never comes now to see me;
+he has no more to ask; but I hear he has been ill.—A pox on Mrs. South’s
+{349c} affair; I can do nothing in it, but by way of assisting anybody
+else that solicits it, by dropping a favourable word, if it comes in my
+way.  Tell Walls I do no more for anybody with my Lord Treasurer,
+especially a thing of this kind.  Tell him I have spent all my
+discretion, and have no more to use.—And so I have answered your letter
+fully and plainly.—And so I have got to the third side of my paper, which
+is more than belongs to you, young women.
+
+   It goes to-morrow,
+   To nobody’s sorrow.
+
+You are silly, not I; I’m a poet, if I had but, etc.—Who’s silly now?
+rogues and lasses, tinderboxes and buzzards.  O Lord, I am in a high vein
+of silliness; methought I was speaking to dearest little MD face to face.
+There; so, lads, enough for to-night; to cards with the blackguards.
+Good-night, my delight, etc.
+
+Dec. 1.  Pish, sirrahs, put a date always at the bottom of your letter,
+as well as the top, that I may know when you send it; your last is of
+November 3, yet I had others at the same time, written a fortnight after.
+Whenever you would have any money, send me word three weeks before, and
+in that time you will certainly have an answer, with a bill on Parvisol:
+pray do this; for my head is full, and it will ease my memory.  Why, I
+think I quoted to you some of —’s letter, so you may imagine how witty
+the rest was; for it was all of a bunch, as Goodman Peesley {350} says.
+Pray let us have no more _bussiness_, but _busyness_: the deuce take me
+if I know how to spell it; your wrong spelling, Madam Stella, has put me
+out: it does not look right; let me see, _bussiness_, _busyness_,
+_business_, _bisyness_, _bisness_, _bysness_; faith, I know not which is
+right, I think the second; I believe I never writ the word in my life
+before; yes, sure I must, though; _business_, _busyness_, _bisyness_.—I
+have perplexed myself, and can’t do it.  Prithee ask Walls.  _Business_,
+I fancy that’s right.  Yes it is; I looked in my own pamphlet, and found
+it twice in ten lines, to convince you that I never writ it before.  Oh,
+now I see it as plain as can be; so yours is only an _s_ too much.  The
+Parliament will certainly meet on Friday next: the Whigs will have a
+great majority in the House of Lords, no care is taken to prevent it;
+there is too much neglect; they are warned of it, and that signifies
+nothing: it was feared there would be some peevish address from the Lords
+against a peace.  ’Tis said about the town that several of the Allies
+begin now to be content that a peace should be treated.  This is all the
+news I have.  The Queen is pretty well: and so now I bid poor dearest MD
+farewell till to-night; then I will talk with them again.
+
+The fifteen images that I saw were not worth forty pounds, so I stretched
+a little when I said a thousand.  The Grub Street account of that tumult
+is published.  The Devil is not like Lord Treasurer: they were all in
+your odd antic masks, bought in common shops. {351a}  I fear Prior will
+not be one of the plenipotentiaries.
+
+I was looking over this letter, and find I make many mistakes of leaving
+out words; so ’tis impossible to find my meaning, unless you be
+conjurers.  I will take more care for the future, and read over every day
+just what I have written that day, which will take up no time to speak
+of.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXVI.
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Dec._ 1, 1711.
+
+MY last was put in this evening.  I intended to dine with Mr. Masham
+to-day, and called at White’s chocolate house to see if he was there.
+Lord Wharton saw me at the door, and I saw him, but took no notice, and
+was going away, but he came through the crowd, called after me, and asked
+me how I did, etc.  This was pretty; and I believe he wished every word
+he spoke was a halter to hang me.  Masham did not dine at home, so I ate
+with a friend in the neighbourhood.  The printer has not sent me the
+second edition; I know not the reason, for it certainly came out to-day;
+perhaps they are glutted with it already.  I found a letter from Lord
+Harley on my table, to tell me that his father desires I would make two
+small alterations.  I am going to be busy, etc.
+
+2.  Morning.  See the blunder; I was making it the 37th day of the month,
+from the number above.  Well, but I am staying here for old Frowde, who
+appointed to call this morning: I am ready dressed to go to church: I
+suppose he dare not stir out but on Sundays. {351b}  The printer called
+early this morning, told me the second edition went off yesterday in five
+hours, and he must have a third ready to-morrow, for they might have sold
+half another: his men are all at work with it, though it be Sunday.  This
+old fool will not come, and I shall miss church.  Morrow, sirrahs.—At
+night.  I was at Court to-day: the Queen is well, and walked through part
+of the rooms.  I dined with the Secretary, and despatched some business.
+He tells me the Dutch Envoy designs to complain of that pamphlet.  The
+noise it makes is extraordinary.  It is fit it should answer the pains I
+have been at about it.  I suppose it will be printed in Ireland.  Some
+lay it to Prior, others to Mr. Secretary St. John, but I am always the
+first they lay everything to.  I’ll go sleep, etc.
+
+3.  I have ordered Patrick not to let any odd fellow come up to me; and a
+fellow would needs speak with me from Sir George Pretyman. {352a}  I had
+never heard of him, and would not see the messenger: but at last it
+proved that this Sir George has sold his estate, and is a beggar.
+Smithers, the Farnham carrier, brought me this morning a letter from your
+mother, with three papers enclosed of Lady Giffard’s writing; one owning
+some exchequer business of £100 to be Stella’s; {352b} another for £100
+that she has of yours, which I made over to you for Mariston; and a third
+for £300; the last is on stamped paper.  I think they had better lie in
+England in some good hand till Lady Giffard dies; and I will think of
+some such hand before I come over.  I was asking Smithers about all the
+people of Farnham.  Mrs. White {352c} has left off dressing, is troubled
+with lameness and swelled legs, and seldom stirs out; but her old
+hang-dog husband as hearty as ever.  I was this morning with Lord
+Treasurer, about something he would have altered in the pamphlet; {352d}
+but it can’t be till the fourth edition, which I believe will be soon;
+for I dined with the printer, and he tells me they have sold off half the
+third.  Mrs. Perceval {352e} and her daughter have been in town these
+three weeks, which I never heard till to-day; and Mrs. Wesley {353a} is
+come to town too, to consult Dr. Radcliffe.  The Whigs are resolved to
+bring that pamphlet into the House of Lords to have it condemned, so I
+hear.  But the printer will stand to it, and not own the author; he must
+say he had it from the penny-post.  Some people talk as if the House of
+Lords would do some peevish thing, for the Whigs are now a great majority
+in it; our Ministers are too negligent of such things: I have never
+slipped giving them warning; some of them are sensible of it; but Lord
+Treasurer stands too much upon his own legs.  I fancy his good fortune
+will bear him out in everything; but in reason I should think this
+Ministry to stand very unsteady; if they can carry a peace, they may
+hold; I believe not else.
+
+4.  Mr. Secretary sent to me to-day to dine with him alone; but we had
+two more with us, which hindered me doing some business.  I was this
+morning with young Harcourt, secretary to our Society, to take a room for
+our weekly meetings; and the fellow asked us five guineas a week only to
+have leave to dine once a week; was not that pretty? so we broke off with
+him, and are to dine next Thursday at Harcourt’s (he is Lord Keeper’s
+son).  They have sold off above half the third edition, and answers are
+coming out: the Dutch Envoy refused dining with Dr. Davenant, {353b}
+because he was suspected to write it: I have made some alterations in
+every edition, and it has cost me more trouble, for the time, since the
+printing, than before.  ’Tis sent over to Ireland, and I suppose you will
+have it reprinted.
+
+5.  They are now printing the fourth edition, which is reckoned very
+extraordinary, considering ’tis a dear twelvepenny book, and not bought
+up in numbers by the party to give away, as the Whigs do, but purely upon
+its own strength.  I have got an under spur-leather to write an
+_Examiner_ again, {354a} and the Secretary and I will now and then send
+hints; but we would have it a little upon the Grub Street, to be a match
+for their writers.  I dined with Lord Treasurer to-day at five: he dined
+by himself after his family, and drinks no claret yet, for fear of his
+rheumatism, of which he is almost well.  He was very pleasant, as he is
+always: yet I fancied he was a little touched with the present posture of
+affairs.  The Elector of Hanover’s Minister here has given in a violent
+memorial against the peace, and caused it to be printed.  The Whig lords
+are doing their utmost for a majority against Friday, and design, if they
+can, to address the Queen against the peace.  Lord Nottingham, {354b} a
+famous Tory and speech-maker, is gone over to the Whig side: they toast
+him daily, and Lord Wharton says, It is Dismal (so they call him from his
+looks) will save England at last.  Lord Treasurer was hinting as if he
+wished a ballad was made on him, and I will get up one against to-morrow.
+{354c}  He gave me a scurrilous printed paper of bad verses on himself,
+under the name of the English Catiline, and made me read them to the
+company.  It was his birthday, which he would not tell us, but Lord
+Harley whispered it to me.
+
+6.  I was this morning making the ballad, two degrees above Grub Street:
+at noon I paid a visit to Mrs. Masham, and then went to dine with our
+Society.  Poor Lord Keeper dined below stairs, I suppose, on a bit of
+mutton.  We chose two members: we were eleven met, the greatest meeting
+we ever had: I am next week to introduce Lord Orrery.  The printer came
+before we parted, and brought the ballad, which made them laugh very
+heartily a dozen times.  He is going to print the pamphlet {355} in
+small, a fifth edition, to be taken off by friends, and sent into the
+country.  A sixpenny answer is come out, good for nothing, but guessing
+me, among others, for the author.  To-morrow is the fatal day for the
+Parliament meeting, and we are full of hopes and fears.  We reckon we
+have a majority of ten on our side in the House of Lords; yet I observed
+Mrs. Masham a little uneasy: she assures me the Queen is stout.  The Duke
+of Marlborough has not seen the Queen for some days past; Mrs. Masham is
+glad of it, because she says he tells a hundred lies to his friends of
+what she says to him: he is one day humble, and the next day on the high
+ropes.  The Duke of Ormond, they say, will be in town to-night by twelve.
+
+7.  This being the day the Parliament was to meet, and the great question
+to be determined, I went with Dr. Freind to dine in the City, on purpose
+to be out of the way, and we sent our printer to see what was our fate;
+but he gave us a most melancholy account of things.  The Earl of
+Nottingham began, and spoke against a peace, and desired that in their
+address they might put in a clause to advise the Queen not to make a
+peace without Spain; which was debated, and carried by the Whigs by about
+six voices: and this has happened entirely by my Lord Treasurer’s
+neglect, who did not take timely care to make up all his strength,
+although every one of us gave him caution enough.  Nottingham has
+certainly been bribed.  The question is yet only carried in the Committee
+of the whole House, and we hope when it is reported to the House
+to-morrow, we shall have a majority, by some Scotch lords coming to town.
+However, it is a mighty blow and loss of reputation to Lord Treasurer,
+and may end in his ruin.  I hear the thing only as the printer brought
+it, who was at the debate; but how the Ministry take it, or what their
+hopes and fears are, I cannot tell until I see them.  I shall be early
+with the Secretary to-morrow, and then I will tell you more, and shall
+write a full account to the Bishop of Clogher to-morrow, and to the
+Archbishop of Dublin, if I have time.  I am horribly down at present.  I
+long to know how Lord Treasurer bears this, and what remedy he has.  The
+Duke of Ormond came this day to town, and was there.
+
+8.  I was early this morning with the Secretary, and talked over this
+matter.  He hoped that when it was reported this day in the House of
+Lords, they would disagree with their Committee, and so the matter would
+go off, only with a little loss of reputation to the Lord Treasurer.  I
+dined with Mr. Cockburn, and after, a Scotch member came in, and told us
+that the clause was carried against the Court in the House of Lords
+almost two to one.  I went immediately to Mrs. Masham, and meeting Dr.
+Arbuthnot (the Queen’s favourite physician), we went together.  She was
+just come from waiting at the Queen’s dinner, and going to her own.  She
+had heard nothing of the thing being gone against us.  It seems Lord
+Treasurer had been so negligent that he was with the Queen while the
+question was put in the House: I immediately told Mrs. Masham that either
+she and Lord Treasurer had joined with the Queen to betray us, or that
+they two were betrayed by the Queen: she protested solemnly it was not
+the former, and I believed her; but she gave me some lights to suspect
+the Queen is changed.  For yesterday, when the Queen was going from the
+House, where she sat to hear the debate, the Duke of Shrewsbury, Lord
+Chamberlain, asked her whether he or the Great Chamberlain Lindsey {356}
+ought to lead her out; she answered short, “Neither of you,” and gave her
+hand to the Duke of Somerset, who was louder than any in the House for
+the clause against peace.  She gave me one or two more instances of this
+sort, which convince me that the Queen is false, or at least very much
+wavering.  Mr. Masham begged us to stay, because Lord Treasurer would
+call, and we were resolved to fall on him about his negligence in
+securing a majority.  He came, and appeared in good humour as usual, but
+I thought his countenance was much cast down.  I rallied him, and desired
+him to give me his staff, which he did: I told him, if he would secure it
+me a week, I would set all right: he asked how; I said I would
+immediately turn Lord Marlborough, his two daughters, {357a} the Duke and
+Duchess of Somerset, and Lord Cholmondeley, {357b} out of all their
+employments; and I believe he had not a friend but was of my opinion.
+Arbuthnot asked how he came not to secure a majority.  He could answer
+nothing but that he could not help it, if people would lie and forswear.
+A poor answer for a great Minister.  There fell from him a Scripture
+expression, that “the hearts of kings are unsearchable.” {357c}  I told
+him it was what I feared, and was from him the worst news he could tell
+me.  I begged him to know what he had to trust to: he stuck a little; but
+at last bid me not fear, for all would be well yet.  We would fain have
+had him eat a bit where he was, but he would go home, it was past six: he
+made me go home with him.  There we found his brother and Mr. Secretary.
+He made his son take a list of all in the House of Commons who had
+places, and yet voted against the Court, in such a manner as if they
+should lose their places: I doubt he is not able to compass it.  Lord
+Keeper came in an hour, and they were going upon business.  So I left
+him, and returned to Mrs. Masham; but she had company with her, and I
+would not stay.—This is a long journal, and of a day that may produce
+great alterations, and hazard the ruin of England.  The Whigs are all in
+triumph; they foretold how all this would be, but we thought it boasting.
+Nay, they said the Parliament should be dissolved before Christmas, and
+perhaps it may: this is all your d—d Duchess of Somerset’s doings.  I
+warned them of it nine months ago, and a hundred times since: the
+Secretary always dreaded it.  I told Lord Treasurer I should have the
+advantage of him; for he would lose his head, and I should only be
+hanged, and so carry my body entire to the grave.
+
+9.  I was this morning with Mr. Secretary: we are both of opinion that
+the Queen is false.  I told him what I heard, and he confirmed it by
+other circumstances.  I then went to my friend Lewis, who had sent to see
+me.  He talks of nothing but retiring to his estate in Wales.  He gave me
+reasons to believe the whole matter is settled between the Queen and the
+Whigs; he hears that Lord Somers is to be Treasurer, and believes that,
+sooner than turn out the Duchess of Somerset, she will dissolve the
+Parliament, and get a Whiggish one, which may be done by managing
+elections.  Things are now in the crisis, and a day or two will
+determine.  I have desired him to engage Lord Treasurer that as soon as
+he finds the change is resolved on, he will send me abroad as Queen’s
+Secretary somewhere or other, where I may remain till the new Ministers
+recall me; and then I will be sick for five or six months, till the storm
+has spent itself.  I hope he will grant me this; for I should hardly
+trust myself to the mercy of my enemies while their anger is fresh.  I
+dined to-day with the Secretary, who affects mirth, and seems to hope all
+will yet be well.  I took him aside after dinner, told him how I had
+served them, and had asked no reward, but thought I might ask security;
+and then desired the same thing of him, to send me abroad before a
+change.  He embraced me, and swore he would take the same care of me as
+himself, etc., but bid me have courage, for that in two days my Lord
+Treasurer’s wisdom would appear greater than ever; that he suffered all
+that had happened on purpose, and had taken measures to turn it to
+advantage.  I said, “God send it”; but I do not believe a syllable; and,
+as far as I can judge, the game is lost.  I shall know more soon, and my
+letters will at least be a good history to show you the steps of this
+change.
+
+10.  I was this morning with Lewis, who thinks they will let the
+Parliament sit till they have given the money, and then dissolve them in
+spring, and break the Ministry.  He spoke to Lord Treasurer about what I
+desired him.  My lord desired him with great earnestness to assure me
+that all would be well, and that I should fear nothing.  I dined in the
+City with a friend.  This day the Commons went to the Queen with their
+address, and all the Lords who were for the peace went with them, to show
+their zeal.  I have now some further conviction that the Queen is false,
+and it begins to be known.
+
+11.  I went between two and three to see Mrs. Masham; while I was there
+she went to her bed-chamber to try a petticoat.  Lord Treasurer came in
+to see her, and seeing me in the outer room, fell a rallying me: says he,
+“You had better keep company with me, than with such a fellow as Lewis,
+who has not the soul of a chicken, nor the heart of a mite.”  Then he
+went in to Mrs. Masham, and as he came back desired her leave to let me
+go home with him to dinner.  He asked whether I was not afraid to be seen
+with him.  I said I never valued my Lord Treasurer in my life, and
+therefore should have always the same esteem for Mr. Harley and Lord
+Oxford.  He seemed to talk confidently, as if he reckoned that all this
+would turn to advantage.  I could not forbear hinting that he was not
+sure of the Queen, and that those scoundrel, starving lords would never
+have dared to vote against the Court, if Somerset had not assured them
+that it would please the Queen.  He said that was true, and Somerset did
+so.  I stayed till six; then De Buys, the Dutch Envoy, came to him, and I
+left him.  Prior was with us a while after dinner.  I see him and all of
+them cast down, though they make the best of it.
+
+12.  Ford is come to town; I saw him last night: he is in no fear, but
+sanguine, although I have told him the state of things.  This change so
+resembles the last, that I wonder they do not observe it.  The Secretary
+sent for me yesterday to dine with him, but I was abroad; I hope he had
+something to say to me.  This is morning, and I write in bed.  I am going
+to the Duke of Ormond, whom I have not yet seen.  Morrow, sirrahs.—At
+night.  I was to see the Duke of Ormond this morning: he asked me two or
+three questions after his civil way, and they related to Ireland: at last
+I told him that, from the time I had seen him, I never once thought of
+Irish affairs.  He whispered me that he hoped I had done some good things
+here: I said, if everybody else had done half as much, we should not be
+as we are: then we went aside, and talked over affairs.  I told him how
+all things stood, and advised him what was to be done.  I then went and
+sat an hour with the Duchess; then as long with Lady Oglethorpe, {360a}
+who is so cunning a devil that I believe she could yet find a remedy, if
+they would take her advice.  I dined with a friend at Court.
+
+13.  I was this morning with the Secretary: he will needs pretend to talk
+as if things would be well: “Will you believe it,” said he, “if you see
+these people turned out?”  I said, yes, if I saw the Duke and Duchess of
+Somerset out: he swore if they were not, he would give up his place.  Our
+Society dined to-day at Sir William Wyndham’s; we were thirteen present.
+Lord Orrery and two other members were introduced: I left them at seven.
+I forgot to tell you that the printer told me yesterday that Morphew, the
+publisher, was sent for by that Lord Chief-Justice, {360b} who was a
+manager against Sacheverell; he showed him two or three papers and
+pamphlets; among the rest mine of the _Conduct of the Allies_, threatened
+him, asked who was the author, and has bound him over to appear next
+term.  He would not have the impudence to do this, if he did not foresee
+what was coming at Court.
+
+14.  Lord Shelburne was with me this morning, to be informed of the state
+of affairs, and desired I would answer all his objections against a
+peace, which was soon done, for he would not give me room to put in a
+word.  He is a man of good sense enough; but argues so violently, that he
+will some day or other put himself into a consumption.  He desires that
+he may not be denied when he comes to see me, which I promised, but will
+not perform.  Leigh and Sterne set out for Ireland on Monday se’nnight: I
+suppose they will be with you long before this.—I was to-night drinking
+very good wine in scurvy company, at least some of them; I was drawn in,
+but will be more cautious for the future; ’tis late, etc.
+
+15.  Morning.  They say the Occasional Bill {361} is brought to-day into
+the House of Lords; but I know not.  I will now put an end to my letter,
+and give it into the post-house myself.  This will be a memorable letter,
+and I shall sigh to see it some years hence.  Here are the first steps
+toward the ruin of an excellent Ministry; for I look upon them as
+certainly ruined; and God knows what may be the consequences.—I now bid
+my dearest MD farewell; for company is coming, and I must be at Lord
+Dartmouth’s office by noon.  Farewell, dearest MD; I wish you a merry
+Christmas; I believe you will have this about that time.  Love Presto,
+who loves MD above all things a thousand times.  Farewell again, dearest
+MD, etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXVII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Dec._ 15, 1711.
+
+I PUT in my letter this evening myself.  I was to-day inquiring at the
+Secretary’s office of Mr. Lewis how things went: I there met Prior, who
+told me he gave all for gone, etc., and was of opinion the whole Ministry
+would give up their places next week: Lewis thinks they will not till
+spring, when the session is over; both of them entirely despair.  I went
+to see Mrs. Masham, who invited me to dinner; but I was engaged to Lewis.
+At four I went to Masham’s.  He came and whispered me that he had it from
+a very good hand that all would be well, and I found them both very
+cheerful.  The company was going to the opera, but desired I would come
+and sup with them.  I did so at ten, and Lord Treasurer was there, and
+sat with us till past twelve, and was more cheerful than I have seen him
+these ten days.  Mrs. Masham told me he was mightily cast down some days
+ago, and he could not indeed hide it from me.  Arbuthnot is in good hopes
+that the Queen has not betrayed us, but only has been frightened, and
+flattered, etc.  But I cannot yet be of his opinion, whether my reasons
+are better, or that my fears are greater.  I do resolve, if they give up,
+or are turned out soon, to retire for some months, and I have pitched
+upon the place already: but I will take methods for hearing from MD, and
+writing to them.  But I would be out of the way upon the first of the
+ferment; for they lay all things on me, even some I have never read.
+
+16.  I took courage to-day, and went to Court with a very cheerful
+countenance.  It was mightily crowded; both parties coming to observe
+each other’s faces.  I have avoided Lord Halifax’s bow till he forced it
+on me; but we did not talk together.  I could not make less than
+fourscore bows, of which about twenty might be to Whigs.  The Duke of
+Somerset is gone to Petworth, and, I hear, the Duchess too, of which I
+shall be very glad.  Prince Eugene, {362} who was expected here some days
+ago, we are now told, will not come at all.  The Whigs designed to have
+met him with forty thousand horse.  Lord Treasurer told me some days ago
+of his discourse with the Emperor’s Resident, that puppy Hoffman, about
+Prince Eugene’s coming; by which I found my lord would hinder it, if he
+could; and we shall be all glad if he does not come, and think it a good
+point gained.  Sir Andrew Fountaine, Ford, and I dined to-day with Mrs.
+Van, by invitation.
+
+17.  I have mistaken the day of the month, and been forced to mend it
+thrice.  I dined to-day with Mr. Masham and his lady, by invitation.
+Lord Treasurer was to be there, but came not.  It was to entertain Buys,
+the Dutch Envoy, who speaks English well enough: he was plaguily politic,
+telling a thousand lies, of which none passed upon any of us.  We are
+still in the condition of suspense, and I think have little hopes.  The
+Duchess of Somerset is not gone to Petworth; only the Duke, and that is a
+poor sacrifice.  I believe the Queen certainly designs to change the
+Ministry, but perhaps may put it off till the session is over: and I
+think they had better give up now, if she will not deal openly; and then
+they need not answer for the consequences of a peace, when it is in other
+hands, and may yet be broken.  They say my Lord Privy Seal sets out for
+Holland this week: so the peace goes on.
+
+18.  It has rained hard from morning till night, and cost me three
+shillings in coach-hire.  We have had abundance of wet weather.  I dined
+in the City, and was with the printer, who has now a fifth edition of the
+_Conduct_, etc.: it is in small, and sold for sixpence; they have printed
+as many as three editions, because they are to be sent in numbers into
+the country by great men, etc., who subscribe for hundreds.  It has been
+sent a fortnight ago to Ireland: I suppose you will print it there.  The
+Tory Lords and Commons in Parliament argue all from it; and all agree
+that never anything of that kind was of so great consequence, or made so
+many converts.  By the time I have sent this letter, I expect to hear
+from little MD: it will be a month, two days hence, since I had your
+last, and I will allow ten days for accidents.  I cannot get rid of the
+leavings of a cold I got a month ago, or else it is a new one.  I have
+been writing letters all this evening till I am weary, and I am sending
+out another little thing, which I hope to finish this week, and design to
+send to the printer in an unknown hand.  There was printed a Grub Street
+speech of Lord Nottingham; {363} and he was such an owl to complain of it
+in the House of Lords, who have taken up the printer for it.  I heard at
+Court that Walpole {364a} (a great Whig member) said that I and my
+whimsical Club writ it at one of our meetings, and that I should pay for
+it.  He will find he lies: and I shall let him know by a third hand my
+thoughts of him.  He is to be Secretary of State, if the Ministry
+changes; but he has lately had a bribe proved against him in Parliament,
+while he was Secretary at War.  He is one of the Whigs’ chief speakers.
+
+19.  Sad dismal weather.  I went to the Secretary’s office, and Lewis
+made me dine with him.  I intended to have dined with Lord Treasurer.  I
+have not seen the Secretary this week.  Things do not mend at all.  Lord
+Dartmouth despairs, and is for giving up; Lewis is of the same mind; but
+Lord Treasurer only says, “Poh, poh, all will be well.”  I am come home
+early to finish something I am doing; but I find I want heart and humour,
+and would read any idle book that came in my way.  I have just sent away
+a penny paper to make a little mischief.  Patrick is gone to the burial
+of an Irish footman, who was Dr. King’s {364b} servant; he died of a
+consumption, a fit death for a poor starving wit’s footman.  The Irish
+servants always club to bury a countryman.
+
+20.  I was with the Secretary this morning, and, for aught I can see, we
+shall have a languishing death: I can know nothing, nor themselves
+neither.  I dined, you know, with our Society, and that odious Secretary
+would make me President next week; so I must entertain them this day
+se’nnight at the Thatched House Tavern, {364c} where we dined to-day: it
+will cost me five or six pounds; yet the Secretary says he will give me
+wine.  I found a letter when I came home from the Bishop of Clogher.
+
+21.  This is the first time I ever got a new cold before the old one was
+going: it came yesterday, and appeared in all due forms, eyes and nose
+running, etc., and is now very bad; and I cannot tell how I got it.  Sir
+Andrew Fountaine and I were invited to dine with Mrs. Van.  I was this
+morning with the Duke of Ormond; and neither he nor I can think of
+anything to comfort us in present affairs.  We must certainly fall, if
+the Duchess of Somerset be not turned out; and nobody believes the Queen
+will ever part with her.  The Duke and I were settling when Mr. Secretary
+and I should dine with him, and he fixes upon Tuesday; and when I came
+away I remembered it was Christmas Day.  I was to see Lady —, who is just
+up after lying-in; and the ugliest sight I have seen, pale, dead, old and
+yellow, for want of her paint.  She has turned my stomach.  But she will
+soon be painted, and a beauty again.
+
+22.  I find myself disordered with a pain all round the small of my back,
+which I imputed to champagne I had drunk; but find it to have been only
+my new cold.  It was a fine frosty day, and I resolved to walk into the
+City.  I called at Lord Treasurer’s at eleven, and stayed some time with
+him.—He showed me a letter from a great Presbyterian parson {365} to him,
+complaining how their friends had betrayed them by passing this
+Conformity Bill; and he showed me the answer he had written, which his
+friends would not let him send; but was a very good one.  He is very
+cheerful; but gives one no hopes, nor has any to give.  I went into the
+City, and there I dined.
+
+23.  Morning.  As I was dressing to go to church, a friend that was to
+see me advised me not to stir out; so I shall keep at home to-day, and
+only eat some broth, if I can get it.  It is a terrible cold frost, and
+snow fell yesterday, which still remains: look there, you may see it from
+the penthouses.  The Lords made yesterday two or three votes about peace,
+and Hanover, of a very angry kind to vex the Ministry, and they will meet
+sooner by a fortnight than the Commons; and they say, are preparing some
+knocking addresses.  Morrow, sirrahs.  I’ll sit at home, and when I go to
+bed I will tell you how I am.—I have sat at home all day, and eaten only
+a mess of broth and a roll.  I have written a _Prophecy_, {366a} which I
+design to print; I did it to-day, and some other verses.
+
+24.  I went into the City to-day in a coach, and dined there.  My cold is
+going.  It is now bitter hard frost, and has been so these three or four
+days.  My _Prophecy_ is printed, and will be published after Christmas
+Day; I like it mightily: I don’t know how it will pass.  You will never
+understand it at your distance, without help.  I believe everybody will
+guess it to be mine, because it is somewhat in the same manner with that
+of “Merlin” {366b} in the _Miscellanies_.  My Lord Privy Seal set out
+this day for Holland: he’ll have a cold journey.  I gave Patrick half a
+crown for his Christmas box, on condition he would be good, and he came
+home drunk at midnight.  I have taken a memorandum of it, because I never
+design to give him a groat more.  ’Tis cruel cold.
+
+25.  I wish MD a merry Christmas, and many a one; but mine is melancholy:
+I durst not go to church to-day, finding myself a little out of order,
+and it snowing prodigiously, and freezing.  At noon I went to Mrs. Van,
+who had this week engaged me to dine there to-day: and there I received
+the news that poor Mrs. Long {366c} died at Lynn in Norfolk on Saturday
+last, at four in the morning: she was sick but four hours.  We suppose it
+was the asthma, which she was subject to as well as the dropsy, as she
+sent me word in her last letter, written about five weeks ago; but then
+said she was recovered.  I never was more afflicted at any death.  The
+poor creature had retired to Lynn two years ago, to live cheap, and pay
+her debts.  In her last letter she told me she hoped to be easy by
+Christmas; and she kept her word, although she meant it otherwise.  She
+had all sorts of amiable qualities, and no ill ones, but the indiscretion
+of too much neglecting her own affairs.  She had two thousand pounds left
+her by an old grandmother, {367a} with which she intended to pay her
+debts, and live on an annuity she had of one hundred pounds a year, and
+Newburg House, which would be about sixty pounds more.  That odious
+grandmother living so long, forced her to retire; for the two thousand
+pounds was settled on her after the old woman’s death, yet her brute of a
+brother, Sir James Long, {367b} would not advance it for her; else she
+might have paid her debts, and continued here, and lived still: I believe
+melancholy helped her on to her grave.  I have ordered a paragraph to be
+put in the _Postboy_, {367c} giving an account of her death, and making
+honourable mention of her; which is all I can do to serve her memory: but
+one reason was spite; for her brother would fain have her death a secret,
+to save the charge of bringing her up here to bury her, or going into
+mourning.  Pardon all this, for the sake of a poor creature I had so much
+friendship for.
+
+26.  I went to Mr. Secretary this morning, and he would have me dine with
+him.  I called at noon at Mrs. Masham’s, who desired me not to let the
+_Prophecy_ be published, for fear of angering the Queen about the Duchess
+of Somerset; so I writ to the printer to stop them.  They have been
+printed and given about, but not sold.  I saw Lord Treasurer there, who
+had been two hours with the Queen; and Mrs. Masham is in hopes things
+will do well again.  I went at night again, and supped at Mr. Masham’s,
+and Lord Treasurer sat with us till one o’clock.  So ’tis late, etc.
+
+27.  I entertained our Society at the Thatched House Tavern to-day at
+dinner; but brother Bathurst sent for wine, the house affording none.
+The printer had not received my letter, and so he brought up dozens
+apiece of the _Prophecy_; but I ordered him to part with no more.  ’Tis
+an admirable good one, and people are mad for it.  The frost still
+continues violently cold.  Mrs. Masham invited me to come to-night and
+play at cards; but our Society did not part till nine.  But I supped with
+Mrs. Hill, her sister, and there was Mrs. Masham and Lord Treasurer, and
+we stayed till twelve.  He is endeavouring to get a majority against next
+Wednesday, when the House of Lords is to meet, and the Whigs intend to
+make some violent addresses against a peace, if not prevented.  God knows
+what will become of us.—It is still prodigiously cold; but so I told you
+already.  We have eggs on the spit, I wish they may not be addled.  When
+I came home to-night I found, forsooth, a letter from MD, N. 24, 24, 24,
+24; there, do you know the numbers now? and at the same time one from
+Joe, {368a} full of thanks: let him know I have received it, and am glad
+of his success, but won’t put him to the charge of a letter.  I had a
+letter some time ago from Mr. Warburton, {368b} and I beg one of you will
+copy out what I shall tell you, and send it by some opportunity to
+Warburton.  ’Tis as follows: The Doctor has received Mr. Warburton’s
+letter, and desires he will let the Doctor know where {368c} that
+accident he mentions is like soon to happen, and he will do what he can
+in it.—And pray, madam, let them know that I do this to save myself the
+trouble, and them the expense of a letter.  And I think that this is
+enough for one that comes home at twelve from a Lord Treasurer and Mrs.
+Masham.  Oh, I could tell you ten thousand things of our mad politics,
+upon what small circumstances great affairs have turned.  But I will go
+rest my busy head.
+
+28.  I was this morning with brother Bathurst to see the Duke of Ormond.
+We have given his Grace some hopes to be one of our Society.  The
+Secretary and I and Bathurst are to dine with him on Sunday next.  The
+Duke is not in much hopes, but has been very busy in endeavouring to
+bring over some lords against next Wednesday.  The Duchess caught me as I
+was going out; she is sadly in fear about things, and blames me for not
+mending them by my credit with Lord Treasurer; and I blame her.  She met
+me in the street at noon, and engaged me to dine with her, which I did;
+and we talked an hour after dinner in her closet.  If we miscarry on
+Wednesday, I believe it will be by some strange sort of neglect.  They
+talk of making eight new lords by calling up some peers’ eldest sons; but
+they delay strangely.  I saw Judge Coote {369a} to-day at the Duke of
+Ormond’s: he desires to come and see me, to justify his principles.
+
+29.  Morning.  This goes to-day.  I will not answer yours, your 24th,
+till next, which shall begin to-night, as usual.  Lord Shelburne has sent
+to invite me to dinner, but I am engaged with Lewis at Ned Southwell’s.
+Lord Northampton and Lord Aylesbury’s sons {369b} are both made peers;
+but we shall want more.  I write this post to your Dean.  I owe the
+Archbishop a letter this long time.  All people that come from Ireland
+complain of him, and scold me for protecting him.  Pray, Madam Dingley,
+let me know what Presto has received for this year, or whether anything
+is due to him for last: I cannot look over your former letters now.  As
+for Dingley’s own account of her exchequer money, I will give it on
+t’other side.  Farewell, my own dearest MD, and love Presto; and God ever
+bless dearest MD, etc. etc.  I wish you many happy Christmases and new
+years.
+
+I have owned to the Dean a letter I just had from you, but that I had not
+one this great while before.
+
+                            DINGLEY’S ACCOUNT
+
+Received of Mr. Tooke                                £6      17      6
+Deducted for entering the letter of attorney          0       2      6
+For the three half-crowns it used to cost you,        0       7      6
+I don’t know why nor wherefore
+For exchange to Ireland                               0      10      0
+For coach-hire                                        0       2      6
+                                   In all, just       8       0      0
+
+So there’s your money, and we are both even: for I’ll pay you no more
+than that eight pounds Irish, and pray be satisfied.
+
+                      Churchwarden’s accounts, boys.
+
+Saturday night.  I have broke open my letter, and tore it into the
+bargain, to let you know that we are all safe: the Queen has made no less
+than twelve lords, {370} to have a majority; nine new ones, the other
+three peers’ sons; and has turned out the Duke of Somerset.  She is
+awaked at last, and so is Lord Treasurer: I want nothing now but to see
+the Duchess out.  But we shall do without her.  We are all extremely
+happy.  Give me joy, sirrahs.  This is written in a coffee-house.  Three
+of the new lords are of our Society.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXVIII.
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Dec._ 29, 1711.
+
+I PUT my letter in this evening, after coming from dinner at Ned
+Southwell’s, where I drank very good Irish wine, and we are in great joy
+at this happy turn of affairs.  The Queen has been at last persuaded to
+her own interest and security, and I freely think she must have made both
+herself and kingdom very unhappy, if she had done otherwise.  It is still
+a mighty secret that Masham is to be one of the new lords; they say he
+does not yet know it himself; but the Queen is to surprise him with it.
+Mr. Secretary will be a lord at the end of the session; but they want him
+still in Parliament.  After all, it is a strange unhappy necessity of
+making so many peers together; but the Queen has drawn it upon herself,
+by her confounded trimming and moderation.  Three, as I told you, are of
+our Society.
+
+30.  I writ the Dean and you a lie yesterday; for the Duke of Somerset is
+not yet turned out.  I was to-day at Court, and resolved to be very civil
+to the Whigs; but saw few there.  When I was in the bed-chamber talking
+to Lord Rochester, he went up to Lady Burlington, {371a} who asked him
+who I was; and Lady Sunderland and she whispered about me: I desired Lord
+Rochester to tell Lady Sunderland I doubted she was not as much in love
+with me as I was with her; but he would not deliver my message.  The
+Duchess of Shrewsbury came running up to me, and clapped her fan up to
+hide us from the company, and we gave one another joy of this change; but
+sighed when we reflected on the Somerset family not being out.  The
+Secretary and I, and brother Bathurst, and Lord Windsor, dined with the
+Duke of Ormond.  Bathurst and Windsor {371b} are to be two of the new
+lords.  I desired my Lord Radnor’s brother, {372a} at Court to-day, to
+let my lord know I would call on him at six, which I did, and was arguing
+with him three hours to bring him over to us, and I spoke so closely that
+I believe he will be tractable; but he is a scoundrel, and though I said
+I only talked for my love to him, I told a lie; for I did not care if he
+were hanged: but everyone gained over is of consequence.  The Duke of
+Marlborough was at Court to-day, and nobody hardly took notice of him.
+Masham’s being a lord begins to take wind: nothing at Court can be kept a
+secret.  Wednesday will be a great day: you shall know more.
+
+31.  Our frost is broken since yesterday, and it is very slabbery; {372b}
+yet I walked to the City and dined, and ordered some things with the
+printer.  I have settled Dr. King in the Gazette; it will be worth two
+hundred pounds a year to him.  Our new lords’ patents are passed: I don’t
+like the expedient, if we could have found any other.  I see I have said
+this before.  I hear the Duke of Marlborough is turned out of all his
+employments: I shall know to-morrow when I am to carry Dr. King to dine
+with the Secretary.—These are strong remedies; pray God the patient is
+able to bear them.  The last Ministry people are utterly desperate.
+
+Jan. 1.  Now I wish my dearest little MD many happy new years; yes, both
+Dingley and Stella, ay and Presto too, many happy new years.  I dined
+with the Secretary, and it is true that the Duke of Marlborough is turned
+out of all.  The Duke of Ormond has got his regiment of foot-guards, I
+know not who has the rest. If the Ministry be not sure of a peace, I
+shall wonder at this step, and do not approve it at best. The Queen and
+Lord Treasurer mortally hate the Duke of Marlborough, and to that he owes
+his fall, more than to his other faults: unless he has been tampering too
+far with his party, of which I have not heard any particulars; however it
+be, the world abroad will blame us.  I confess my belief that he has not
+one good quality in the world beside that of a general, and even that I
+have heard denied by several great soldiers.  But we have had constant
+success in arms while he commanded.  Opinion is a mighty matter in war,
+and I doubt the French think it impossible to conquer an army that he
+leads, and our soldiers think the same; and how far even this step may
+encourage the French to play tricks with us, no man knows.  I do not love
+to see personal resentment mix with public affairs.
+
+2.  This being the day the Lords meet, and the new peers to be
+introduced, I went to Westminster to see the sight; but the crowd was too
+great in the house.  So I only went into the robing-room, to give my four
+brothers joy, and Sir Thomas Mansel, {373} and Lord Windsor; the other
+six I am not acquainted with.  It was apprehended the Whigs would have
+raised some difficulties, but nothing happened.  I went to see Lady
+Masham at noon, and wish her joy of her new honour, and a happy new year.
+I found her very well pleased; for peerage will be some sort of
+protection to her upon any turn of affairs.  She engaged me to come at
+night, and sup with her and Lord Treasurer: I went at nine, and she was
+not at home, so I would not stay.—No, no, I won’t answer your letter yet,
+young women.  I dined with a friend in the neighbourhood.  I see nothing
+here like Christmas, except brawn or mince-pies in places where I dine,
+and giving away my half-crowns like farthings to great men’s porters and
+butlers.  Yesterday I paid seven good guineas to the fellow at the tavern
+where I treated the Society.  I have a great mind to send you the bill.
+I think I told you some articles.  I have not heard whether anything was
+done in the House of Lords after introducing the new ones.  Ford has been
+sitting with me till peeast tweeleve a clock.
+
+3.  This was our Society day: Lord Dupplin was President; we choose every
+week; the last President treats and chooses his successor.  I believe our
+dinner cost fifteen pounds beside wine.  The Secretary grew brisk, and
+would not let me go, nor Lord Lansdowne, {374a} who would fain have gone
+home to his lady, being newly married to Lady Mary Thynne.  It was near
+one when we parted, so you must think I cannot write much to-night.  The
+adjourning of the House of Lords yesterday, as the Queen desired, was
+just carried by the twelve new lords, and one more.  Lord Radnor was not
+there: I hope I have cured him.  Did I tell you that I have brought Dr.
+King in to be Gazetteer?  It will be worth above two hundred pounds a
+year to him: I believe I told you so before, but I am forgetful.  Go, get
+you gone to ombre, and claret, and toasted oranges.  I’ll go sleep.
+
+4.  I cannot get rid of the leavings of my cold.  I was in the City
+to-day, and dined with my printer, and gave him a ballad made by several
+hands, I know not whom.  I believe Lord Treasurer had a finger in it; I
+added three stanzas; I suppose Dr. Arbuthnot had the greatest share.  I
+had been overseeing some other little prints, and a pamphlet made by one
+of my under-strappers.  Somerset is not out yet.  I doubt not but you
+will have the _Prophecy_ in Ireland, although it is not published here,
+only printed copies given to friends.  Tell me, do you understand it?
+No, faith, not without help.  Tell me what you stick at, and I’ll
+explain.  We turned out a member of our Society yesterday for gross
+neglect and non-attendance.  I writ to him by order to give him notice of
+it.  It is Tom Harley, {374b} secretary to the Treasurer, and
+cousin-german to Lord Treasurer.  He is going to Hanover from the Queen.
+I am to give the Duke of Ormond notice of his election as soon as I can
+see him.
+
+5.  I went this morning with a parishioner of mine, one Nuttal, who came
+over here for a legacy of one hundred pounds, and a roguish lawyer had
+refused to pay him, and would not believe he was the man.  I writ to the
+lawyer a sharp letter, that I had taken Nuttal into my protection, and
+was resolved to stand by him, and the next news was, that the lawyer
+desired I would meet him, and attest he was the man, which I did, and his
+money was paid upon the spot.  I then visited Lord Treasurer, who is now
+right again, and all well, only that the Somerset family is not out yet.
+I hate that; I don’t like it, as the man said, by, etc.  Then I went and
+visited poor Will Congreve, who had a French fellow tampering with one of
+his eyes; he is almost blind of both.  I dined with some merchants in the
+City, but could not see Stratford, with whom I had business.  Presto,
+leave off your impertinence, and answer our letter, saith MD.  Yes, yes,
+one of these days, when I have nothing else to do.  O, faith, this letter
+is a week written, and not one side done yet. These ugly spots are not
+tobacco, but this is the last gilt sheet I have of large paper, therefore
+hold your tongue.  Nuttal was surprised when they gave him bits of paper
+instead of money, but I made Ben Tooke put him in his geers: {375} he
+could not reckon ten pounds, but was puzzled with the Irish way.  Ben
+Tooke and my printer have desired me to make them stationers to the
+Ordnance, of which Lord Rivers is Master, instead of the Duke of
+Marlborough.  It will be a hundred pounds a year apiece to them, if I can
+get it.  I will try to-morrow.
+
+6.  I went this morning to Earl Rivers, gave him joy of his new
+employment, and desired him to prefer my printer and bookseller to be
+stationers to his office.  He immediately granted it me; but, like an old
+courtier, told me it was wholly on my account, but that he heard I had
+intended to engage Mr. Secretary to speak to him, and desired I would
+engage him to do so, but that, however, he did it only for my sake.  This
+is a Court trick, to oblige as many as you can at once.  I read prayers
+to poor Mrs. Wesley, who is very much out of order, instead of going to
+church; and then I went to Court, which I found very full, in expectation
+of seeing Prince Eugene, who landed last night, and lies at Leicester
+House; he was not to see the Queen till six this evening.  I hope and
+believe he comes too late to do the Whigs any good.  I refused dining
+with the Secretary, and was like to lose my dinner, which was at a
+private acquaintance’s.  I went at six to see the Prince at Court, but he
+was gone in to the Queen; and when he came out, Mr. Secretary, who
+introduced him, walked so near him that he quite screened me from him
+with his great periwig.  I’ll tell you a good passage: as Prince Eugene
+was going with Mr. Secretary to Court, he told the Secretary that
+Hoffman, the Emperor’s Resident, said to His Highness that it was not
+proper to go to Court without a long wig, and his was a tied-up one:
+“Now,” says the Prince, “I knew not what to do, for I never had a long
+periwig in my life; and I have sent to all my valets and footmen, to see
+whether any of them have one, that I might borrow it, but none of them
+has any.”—Was not this spoken very greatly with some sort of contempt?
+But the Secretary said it was a thing of no consequence, and only
+observed by gentlemen ushers.  I supped with Lord Masham, where Lord
+Treasurer and Mr. Secretary supped with us: the first left us at twelve,
+but the rest did not part till two, yet I have written all this, because
+it is fresh: and now I’ll go sleep if I can; that is, I believe I shall,
+because I have drank a little.
+
+7.  I was this morning to give the Duke of Ormond notice of the honour
+done him to make him one of our Society, and to invite him on Thursday
+next to the Thatched House: he has accepted it with the gratitude and
+humility such a preferment deserves, but cannot come till the next
+meeting, because Prince Eugene is to dine with him that day, which I
+allowed for: a good excuse, and will report accordingly.  I dined with
+Lord Masham, and sat there till eight this evening, and came home,
+because I was not very well, but a little griped; but now I am well
+again, I will not go, at least but very seldom, to Lord Masham’s suppers.
+Lord Treasurer is generally there, and that tempts me, but late sitting
+up does not agree with me: there’s the short and the long, and I won’t do
+it; so take your answer, dear little young women; and I have no more to
+say to you to-night, because of the Archbishop, for I am going to write a
+long letter to him, but not so politely as formerly: I won’t trust him.
+
+8.  Well, then, come, let us see this letter; if I must answer it, I
+must.  What’s here now? yes, faith, I lamented my birthday {377a} two
+days after, and that’s all: and you rhyme, Madam Stella; were those
+verses made upon my birthday? faith, when I read them, I had them running
+in my head all the day, and said them over a thousand times; they drank
+your health in all their glasses, and wished, etc.  I could not get them
+out of my head.  What? no, I believe it was not; what do I say upon the
+eighth of December?  Compare, and see whether I say so.  I am glad of
+Mrs. Stoyte’s recovery, heartily glad; your Dolly Manley’s and Bishop of
+Cloyne’s {377b} child I have no concern about: I am sorry in a civil way,
+that’s all.  Yes, yes, Sir George St. George dead. {377c}—Go, cry, Madam
+Dingley; I have written to the Dean.  Raymond will be rich, for he has
+the building itch.  I wish all he has got may put him out of debt.  Poh,
+I have fires like lightning; they cost me twelvepence a week, beside
+small coal.  I have got four new caps, madam, very fine and convenient,
+with striped cambric, instead of muslin; so Patrick need not mend them,
+but take the old ones.  Stella snatched Dingley’s word out of her pen;
+Presto a cold?  Why, all the world here is dead with them: I never had
+anything like it in my life; ’tis not gone in five weeks.  I hope Leigh
+is with you before this, and has brought your box.  How do you like the
+ivory rasp?  Stella is angry; but I’ll have a finer thing for her.  Is
+not the apron as good?  I’m sure I shall never be paid it; so all’s well
+again.—What? the quarrel with Sir John Walter? {378a}  Why, we had not
+one word of quarrel; only he railed at me when I was gone: and Lord
+Keeper and Treasurer teased me for a week.  It was nuts to them; a
+serious thing with a vengeance.—The Whigs may sell their estates then, or
+hang themselves, as they are disposed; for a peace there will be.  Lord
+Treasurer told me that Connolly {378b} was going to Hanover.  Your
+Provost {378c} is a coxcomb.  Stella is a good girl for not being angry
+when I tell her of spelling; I see none wrong in this.  God Almighty be
+praised that your disorder lessens; it increases my hopes mightily that
+they will go off.  And have you been plagued with the fear of the plague?
+never mind those reports; I have heard them five hundred times.  Replevi?
+Replevin, simpleton, ’tis Dingley I mean; but it is a hard word, and so
+I’ll excuse it.  I stated Dingley’s accounts in my last. I forgot
+Catherine’s sevenpenny dinner.  I hope it was the beef-steaks; I’ll call
+and eat them in spring; but Goody Stoyte must give me coffee, or green
+tea, for I drink no bohea.  Well, ay, the pamphlet; but there are some
+additions to the fourth edition; the fifth edition was of four thousand,
+in a smaller print, sold for sixpence.  Yes, I had the twenty-pound bill
+from Parvisol: and what then?  Pray now eat the Laracor apples; I beg you
+not to keep them, but tell me what they are.  You have had Tooke’s bill
+in my last.  And so there now, your whole letter is answered.  I tell you
+what I do; I lay your letter before me, and take it in order, and answer
+what is necessary; and so and so.  Well, when I expected we were all
+undone, I designed to retire for six months, and then steal over to
+Laracor; and I had in my mouth a thousand times two lines of Shakespeare,
+where Cardinal Wolsey says,
+
+    “A weak old man, battered with storms of state,
+    Is come to lay his weary bones among you.” {378d}
+
+I beg your pardon; I have cheated you all this margin, I did not perceive
+it; and I went on wider and wider like Stella; awkward sluts; _she writes
+so so_, _there_: {379} that’s as like as two eggs a penny.—“A weak old
+man,” now I am saying it, and shall till to-morrow.—The Duke of
+Marlborough says there is nothing he now desires so much as to contrive
+some way how to soften Dr. Swift.  He is mistaken; for those things that
+have been hardest against him were not written by me.  Mr. Secretary told
+me this from a friend of the Duke’s; and I’m sure now he is down, I shall
+not trample on him; although I love him not, I dislike his being
+out.—Bernage was to see me this morning, and gave some very indifferent
+excuses for not calling here so long.  I care not twopence.  Prince
+Eugene did not dine with the Duke of Marlborough on Sunday, but was last
+night at Lady Betty Germaine’s assemblee, and a vast number of ladies to
+see him.  Mr. Lewis and I dined with a private friend.  I was this
+morning to see the Duke of Ormond, who appointed me to meet him at the
+Cockpit at one, but never came.  I sat too some time with the Duchess.
+We don’t like things very well yet.  I am come home early, and going to
+be busy.  I’ll go write.
+
+9.  I could not go sleep last night till past two, and was waked before
+three by a noise of people endeavouring to break open my window.  For a
+while I would not stir, thinking it might be my imagination; but hearing
+the noise continued, I rose and went to the window, and then it ceased.
+I went to bed again, and heard it repeated more violently; then I rose
+and called up the house, and got a candle: the rogues had lifted up the
+sash a yard; there are great sheds before my windows, although my
+lodgings be a storey high; and if they get upon the sheds they are almost
+even with my window.  We observed their track, and panes of glass fresh
+broken.  The watchmen told us to-day they saw them, but could not catch
+them.  They attacked others in the neighbourhood about the same time, and
+actually robbed a house in Suffolk Street, which is the next street but
+one to us.  It is said they are seamen discharged from service.  I went
+up to call my man, and found his bed empty; it seems he often lies
+abroad.  I challenged him this morning as one of the robbers.  He is a
+sad dog; and the minute I come to Ireland I will discard him.  I have
+this day got double iron bars to every window in my dining-room and
+bed-chamber; and I hide my purse in my thread stocking between the bed’s
+head and the wainscot.  Lewis and I dined with an old Scotch friend, who
+brought the Duke of Douglas {380a} and three or four more Scots upon us.
+
+10.  This was our Society day, you know; but the Duke of Ormond could not
+be with us, because he dined with Prince Eugene.  It cost me a guinea
+contribution to a poet, who had made a copy of verses upon monkeys,
+applying the story to the Duke of Marlborough; the rest gave two guineas,
+except the two physicians, {380b} who followed my example.  I don’t like
+this custom: the next time I will give nothing.  I sat this evening at
+Lord Masham’s with Lord Treasurer: I don’t like his countenance; nor I
+don’t like the posture of things well.
+
+   We cannot be stout,
+   Till Somerset’s out:
+
+as the old saying is.
+
+11.  Mr. Lewis and I dined with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who eats
+the most elegantly of any man I know in town.  I walked lustily in the
+Park by moonshine till eight, to shake off my dinner and wine; and then
+went to sup at Mr. Domville’s with Ford, and stayed till twelve.  It is
+told me to-day as a great secret that the Duke of Somerset will be out
+soon, that the thing is fixed; but what shall we do with the Duchess?
+They say the Duke will make her leave the Queen out of spite, if he be
+out.  It has stuck upon that fear a good while already.  Well, but Lewis
+gave me a letter from MD, N. 25.  O Lord, I did not expect one this
+fortnight, faith.  You are mighty good, that’s certain: but I won’t
+answer it, because this goes to-morrow, only what you say of the printer
+being taken up; I value it not; all’s safe there; nor do I fear anything,
+unless the Ministry be changed: I hope that danger is over.  However, I
+shall be in Ireland before such a change; which could not be, I think,
+till the end of the session, if the Whigs’ designs had gone on.—Have not
+you an apron by Leigh, Madam Stella? have you all I mentioned in a former
+letter?
+
+12.  Morning.  This goes to-day as usual.  I think of going into the
+City; but of that at night.  ’Tis fine moderate weather these two or
+three days last. Farewell, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XXXIX.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Jan._ 12, 1711–12.
+
+WHEN I sealed up my letter this morning, I looked upon myself to be not
+worth a groat in the world.  Last night, after Mr. Ford and I left
+Domville, Ford desired me to go with him for a minute upon earnest
+business, and then told me that both he and I were ruined; for he had
+trusted Stratford with five hundred pounds for tickets for the lottery,
+and he had been with Stratford, who confessed he had lost fifteen
+thousand pounds by Sir Stephen Evans, {381} who broke last week; that he
+concluded Stratford must break too; that he could not get his tickets,
+but Stratford made him several excuses, which seemed very blind ones,
+etc.  And Stratford had near four hundred pounds of mine, to buy me five
+hundred pounds in the South Sea Company.  I came home reflecting a
+little; nothing concerned me but MD.  I called all my philosophy and
+religion up; and, I thank God, it did not keep me awake beyond my usual
+time above a quarter of an hour.  This morning I sent for Tooke, whom I
+had employed to buy the stock of Stratford, and settle things with him.
+He told me I was secure; for Stratford had transferred it to me in form
+in the South Sea House, and he had accepted it for me, and all was done
+on stamped parchment.  However, he would be further informed; and at
+night sent me a note to confirm me.  However, I am not yet secure; and,
+besides, am in pain for Ford, whom I first brought acquainted with
+Stratford.  I dined in the City.
+
+13.  Domville and I dined with Ford to-day by appointment: the Lord
+Mansel told me at Court to-day that I was engaged to him; but Stratford
+had promised Ford to meet him and me to-night at Ford’s lodgings.  He did
+so; said he had hopes to save himself in his affair with Evans.  Ford
+asked him for his tickets: he said he would send them to-morrow; but
+looking in his pocket-book, said he believed he had some of them about
+him, and gave him as many as came to two hundred pounds, which rejoiced
+us much; besides, he talked so frankly, that we might think there is no
+danger.  I asked him, Was there any more to be settled between us in my
+affair?  He said, No; and answered my questions just as Tooke had got
+them from others; so I hope I am safe.  This has been a scurvy affair.  I
+believe Stella would have half laughed at me, to see a suspicious fellow
+like me overreached.  I saw Prince Eugene to-day at Court: I don’t think
+him an ugly-faced fellow, but well enough, and a good shape.
+
+14.  The Parliament was to sit to-day, and met; but were adjourned by the
+Queen’s directions till Thursday.  She designs to make some important
+speech then.  She pretended illness; but I believe they were not ready,
+and they expect some opposition: and the Scotch lords are angry, {382}
+and must be pacified.  I was this morning to invite the Duke of Ormond to
+our Society on Thursday, where he is then to be introduced.  He has
+appointed me at twelve to-morrow about some business: I would fain have
+his help to impeach a certain lord; but I doubt we shall make nothing of
+it.  I intended to have dined with Lord Treasurer, but I was told he
+would be busy: so I dined with Mrs. Van; and at night I sat with Lord
+Masham till one.  Lord Treasurer was there, and chid me for not dining
+with him: he was in very good humour.  I brought home two flasks of
+burgundy in my chair: I wish MD had them.  You see it is very late; so
+I’ll go to bed, and bid MD good night.
+
+15.  This morning I presented my printer and bookseller to Lord Rivers,
+to be stationers to the Ordnance; stationers, that’s the word; I did not
+write it plain at first. I believe it will be worth three hundred pounds
+a year between them.  This is the third employment I have got for them.
+Rivers told them the Doctor commanded him, and he durst not refuse it.  I
+would have dined with Lord Treasurer to-day again, but Lord Mansel would
+not let me, and forced me home with him.  I was very deep with the Duke
+of Ormond to-day at the Cockpit, where we met to be private; but I doubt
+I cannot do the mischief I intended.  My friend Penn came there, Will
+Penn the Quaker, at the head of his brethren, to thank the Duke for his
+kindness to their people in Ireland.  To see a dozen scoundrels with
+their hats on, and the Duke complimenting with his off, was a good sight
+enough.  I sat this evening with Sir William Robinson, {383} who has
+mighty often invited me to a bottle of wine: and it is past twelve.
+
+16.  This being fast-day, Dr. Freind and I went into the City to dine
+late, like good fasters.  My printer and bookseller want me to hook in
+another employment for them in the Tower, because it was enjoyed before
+by a stationer, although it be to serve the Ordnance with oil, tallow,
+etc., and is worth four hundred pounds per annum more: I will try what I
+can do.  They are resolved to ask several other employments of the same
+nature to other offices; and I will then grease fat sows, and see whether
+it be possible to satisfy them.  Why am not I a stationer?  The
+Parliament sits to-morrow, and Walpole, late Secretary at War, is to be
+swinged for bribery, and the Queen is to communicate something of great
+importance to the two Houses, at least they say so.  But I must think of
+answering your letter in a day or two.
+
+17.  I went this morning to the Duke of Ormond about some business, and
+he told me he could not dine with us to-day, being to dine with Prince
+Eugene.  Those of our Society of the House of Commons could not be with
+us, the House sitting late on Walpole.  I left them at nine, and they
+were not come.  We kept some dinner for them.  I hope Walpole will be
+sent to the Tower, and expelled the House; but this afternoon the members
+I spoke with in the Court of Requests talked dubiously of it.  It will be
+a leading card to maul the Duke of Marlborough for the same crime, or at
+least to censure him.  The Queen’s message was only to give them notice
+of the peace she is treating, and to desire they will make some law to
+prevent libels against the Government; so farewell to Grub Street.
+
+18.  I heard to-day that the commoners of our Society did not leave the
+Parliament till eleven at night, then went to those I left, and stayed
+till three in the morning.  Walpole is expelled, and sent to the Tower.
+I was this morning again with Lord Rivers, and have made him give the
+other employment to my printer and bookseller; ’tis worth a great deal.
+I dined with my friend Lewis privately, to talk over affairs.  We want to
+have this Duke of Somerset out, and he apprehends it will not be, but I
+hope better.  They are going now at last to change the Commissioners of
+the Customs; my friend Sir Matthew Dudley will be out, and three more,
+and Prior will be in.  I have made Ford copy out a small pamphlet, and
+sent it to the press, that I might not be known for author; ’tis _A
+Letter to the October Club_, {384} if ever you heard of such a
+thing.—Methinks this letter goes on but slowly for almost a week: I want
+some little conversation with MD, and to know what they are doing just
+now.  I am sick of politics.  I have not dined with Lord Treasurer these
+three weeks: he chides me, but I don’t care: I don’t.
+
+19.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer: this is his day of choice
+company, where they sometimes admit me, but pretend to grumble.  And
+to-day they met on some extraordinary business; the Keeper, Steward, both
+Secretaries, Lord Rivers, and Lord Anglesea: I left them at seven, and
+came away, and have been writing to the Bishop of Clogher.  I forgot to
+know where to direct to him since Sir George St. George’s death, {385a}
+but I have directed to the same house: you must tell me better, for the
+letter is sent by the bellman.  Don’t write to me again till this is
+gone, I charge you, for I won’t answer two letters together.  The Duke of
+Somerset is out, and was with his yellow liveries at Parliament to-day.
+You know he had the same with the Queen, when he was Master of the Horse:
+we hope the Duchess will follow, or that he will take her away in spite.
+Lord Treasurer, I hope, has now saved his head.  Has the Dean received my
+letter? ask him at cards to-night.
+
+20.  There was a world of people to-day at Court to see Prince Eugene,
+but all bit, for he did not come.  I saw the Duchess of Somerset talking
+with the Duke of Buckingham; she looked a little down, but was extremely
+courteous.  The Queen has the gout, but is not in much pain.  Must I fill
+this line too? {385b} well then, so let it be.  The Duke of Beaufort
+{385c} has a mighty mind to come into our Society; shall we let him?  I
+spoke to the Duke of Ormond about it, and he doubts a little whether to
+let him in or no.  They say the Duke of Somerset is advised by his
+friends to let his wife stay with the Queen; I am sorry for it.  I dined
+with the Secretary to-day, with mixed company; I don’t love it.  Our
+Society does not meet till Friday, because Thursday will be a busy day in
+the House of Commons, for then the Duke of Marlborough’s bribery is to be
+examined into about the pension paid him by those that furnished bread to
+the army.
+
+21.  I have been five times with the Duke of Ormond about a perfect
+trifle, and he forgets it: I used him like a dog this morning for it.  I
+was asked to-day by several in the Court of Requests whether it was true
+that the author of the _Examiner_ was taken up in an action of twenty
+thousand pounds by the Duke of Marlborough? {386a}  I dined in the City,
+where my printer showed me a pamphlet, called _Advice to the October
+Club_, which he said was sent him by an unknown hand: I commended it
+mightily; he never suspected me; ’tis a twopenny pamphlet.  I came home
+and got timely to bed; but about eleven one of the Secretary’s servants
+came to me to let me know that Lord Treasurer would immediately speak to
+me at Lord Masham’s upon earnest business, and that, if I was abed, I
+should rise and come.  I did so: Lord Treasurer was above with the Queen;
+and when he came down he laughed, and said it was not he that sent for
+me: the business was of no great importance, only to give me a paper,
+which might have been done to-morrow.  I stayed with them till past one,
+and then got to bed again.  Pize {386b} take their frolics.  I thought to
+have answered your letter.
+
+22.  Dr. Gastrell was to see me this morning: he is an eminent divine,
+one of the canons of Christ Church, and one I love very well: he said he
+was glad to find I was not with James Broad.  I asked what he meant.
+“Why,” says he, “have you not seen the Grub Street paper, that says Dr.
+Swift was taken up as author of the _Examiner_, on an action of twenty
+thousand pounds, and was now at James Broad’s?” who, I suppose, is some
+bailiff.  I knew of this; but at the Court of Requests twenty people told
+me they heard I had been taken up.  Lord Lansdowne observed to the
+Secretary and me that the Whigs spread three lies yesterday; that about
+me; and another, that Maccartney, who was turned out last summer, {387a}
+is again restored to his places in the army; and the third, that Jack
+Hill’s commission for Lieutenant of the Tower is stopped, and that
+Cadogan is to continue.  Lansdowne thinks they have some design by these
+reports; I cannot guess it.  Did I tell you that Sacheverell has desired
+mightily to come and see me? but I have put it off: he has heard that I
+have spoken to the Secretary in behalf of a brother whom he maintains,
+and who desires an employment. {387b}  T’other day at the Court of
+Requests Dr. Yalden {387c} saluted me by name: Sacheverell, who was just
+by, came up to me, and made me many acknowledgment and compliments.  Last
+night I desired Lord Treasurer to do something for that brother of
+Sacheverell’s: he said he never knew he had a brother, but thanked me for
+telling him, and immediately put his name in his table-book. {387d}  I
+will let Sacheverell know this, that he may take his measures
+accordingly, but he shall be none of my acquaintance.  I dined to-day
+privately with the Secretary, left him at six, paid a visit or two, and
+came home.
+
+23.  I dined again to-day with the Secretary, but could not despatch some
+business I had with him, he has so much besides upon his hands at this
+juncture, and preparing against the great business to-morrow, which we
+are top full of.  The Minister’s design is that the Duke of Marlborough
+shall be censured as gently as possible, provided his friends will not
+make head to defend him, but if they do, it may end in some severer
+votes.  A gentleman, who was just now with him, tells me he is much cast
+down, and fallen away; but he is positive, if he has but ten friends in
+the House, that they shall defend him to the utmost, and endeavour to
+prevent the least censure upon him, which I think cannot be, since the
+bribery is manifest.  Sir Solomon Medina {388a} paid him six thousand
+pounds a year to have the employment of providing bread for the army, and
+the Duke owns it in his letter to the Commissioners of Accounts.  I was
+to-night at Lord Masham’s: Lord Dupplin took out my new little pamphlet,
+and the Secretary read a great deal of it to Lord Treasurer: they all
+commended it to the skies, and so did I, and they began a health to the
+author.  But I doubt Lord Treasurer suspected; for he said, “This is Mr.
+Davenant’s style,” which is his cant when he suspects me. {388b}  But I
+carried the matter very well.  Lord Treasurer put the pamphlet in his
+pocket to read at home.  I’ll answer your letter to-morrow.
+
+24.  The Secretary made me promise to dine with him to-day, after the
+Parliament was up: I said I would come; but I dined at my usual time,
+knowing the House would sit late on this great affair.  I dined at a
+tavern with Mr. Domville and another gentleman; I have not done so before
+these many months.  At ten this evening I went to the Secretary, but he
+was not come home: I sat with his lady till twelve, then came away; and
+he just came as I was gone, and he sent to my lodgings, but I would not
+go back; and so I know not how things have passed, but hope all is well;
+and I will tell you to-morrow day.  It is late, etc.
+
+25.  The Secretary sent to me this morning to know whether we should dine
+together.  I went to him, and there I learned that the question went
+against the Duke of Marlborough, by a majority of a hundred; so the
+Ministry is mighty well satisfied, and the Duke will now be able to do no
+hurt.  The Secretary and I, and Lord Masham, etc., dined with
+Lieutenant-General Withers, {389a} who is just going to look after the
+army in Flanders: the Secretary and I left them a little after seven, and
+I am come home, and will now answer your letter, because this goes
+to-morrow: let me see—The box at Chester; oh, burn that box, and hang
+that Sterne; I have desired one to inquire for it who went toward Ireland
+last Monday, but I am in utter despair of it.  No, I was not splenetic;
+you see what plunges the Court has been at to set all right again.  And
+that Duchess is not out yet, and may one day cause more mischief.
+Somerset shows all about a letter from the Queen, desiring him to let his
+wife continue with her.  Is not that rare!  I find Dingley smelled a rat;
+because the Whigs are _upish_; but if ever I hear that word again, I’ll
+_uppish_ you.  I am glad you got your rasp safe and sound; does Stella
+like her apron?  Your critics about guarantees of succession are puppies;
+that’s an answer to the objection.  The answerers here made the same
+objection, but it is wholly wrong.  I am of your opinion that Lord
+Marlborough is used too hardly: I have often scratched out passages from
+papers and pamphlets sent me, before they were printed, because I thought
+them too severe.  But he is certainly a vile man, and has no sort of
+merit beside the military.  The _Examiners_ are good for little: I would
+fain have hindered the severity of the two or three last, but could not.
+I will either bring your papers over, or leave them with Tooke, for whose
+honesty I will engage.  And I think it is best not to venture them with
+me at sea.  Stella is a prophet, by foretelling so very positively that
+all would be well.  Duke of Ormond speak against peace?  No, simpleton,
+he is one of the staunchest we have for the Ministry.  Neither trouble
+yourself about the printer: he appeared the first day of the term, and is
+to appear when summoned again; but nothing else will come of it.  Lord
+Chief-Justice {389b} is cooled since this new settlement.  No; I will not
+split my journals in half; I will write but once a fortnight: but you may
+do as you will; which is, read only half at once, and t’other half next
+week.  So now your letter is answered.  (P— on these blots.)  What must I
+say more?  I will set out in March, if there be a fit of fine weather;
+unless the Ministry desire me to stay till the end of the session, which
+may be a month longer; but I believe they will not: for I suppose the
+peace will be made, and they will have no further service for me.  I must
+make my canal fine this summer, as fine as I can.  I am afraid I shall
+see great neglects among my quicksets.  I hope the cherry-trees on the
+river walk are fine things now.  But no more of this.
+
+26.  I forgot to finish this letter this morning, and am come home so
+late I must give it to the bellman; but I would have it go to-night, lest
+you should think there is anything in the story of my being arrested in
+an action of twenty thousand pounds by Lord Marlborough, which I hear is
+in Dyer’s Letter, {390} and, consequently, I suppose, gone to Ireland.
+Farewell, dearest MD, etc. etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XL.
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Jan._ 26, 1711–12.
+
+I HAVE no gilt paper left of this size, so you must be content with
+plain.  Our Society dined together to-day, for it was put off, as I told
+you, upon Lord Marlborough’s business on Thursday.  The Duke of Ormond
+dined with us to-day, the first time: we were thirteen at table; and Lord
+Lansdowne came in after dinner, so that we wanted but three.  The
+Secretary proposed the Duke of Beaufort, who desires to be one of our
+Society; but I stopped it, because the Duke of Ormond doubts a little
+about it; and he was gone before it was proposed.  I left them at seven,
+and sat this evening with poor Mrs. Wesley, who has been mightily ill
+to-day with a fainting fit; she has often convulsions, too: she takes a
+mixture with asafoetida, which I have now in my nose, and everything
+smells of it.  I never smelt it before; ’tis abominable.  We have eight
+packets, they say, due from Ireland.
+
+27.  I could not see Prince Eugene at Court to-day, the crowd was so
+great.  The Whigs contrive to have a crowd always about him, and employ
+the rabble to give the word, when he sets out from any place.  When the
+Duchess of Hamilton came from the Queen after church, she whispered me
+that she was going to pay me a visit.  I went to Lady Oglethorpe’s, the
+place appointed; for ladies always visit me in third places; and she kept
+me till near four: she talks too much, is a plaguy detractor, and I
+believe I shall not much like her.  I was engaged to dine with Lord
+Masham: they stayed as long as they could, yet had almost dined, and were
+going in anger to pull down the brass peg for my hat, but Lady Masham
+saved it.  At eight I went again to Lord Masham’s; Lord Treasurer is
+generally there at night: we sat up till almost two.  Lord Treasurer has
+engaged me to contrive some way to keep the Archbishop of York {391} from
+being seduced by Lord Nottingham.  I will do what I can in it to-morrow.
+’Tis very late, so I must go sleep.
+
+28.  Poor Mrs. Manley, the author, is very ill of a dropsy and sore leg:
+the printer tells me he is afraid she cannot live long.  I am heartily
+sorry for her: she has very generous principles for one of her sort, and
+a great deal of good sense and invention: she is about forty, very
+homely, and very fat.  Mrs. Van made me dine with her to-day.  I was this
+morning with the Duke of Ormond and the Prolocutor about what Lord
+Treasurer spoke to me yesterday; I know not what will be the issue.
+There is but a slender majority in the House of Lords, and we want more.
+We are sadly mortified at the news of the French taking the town in
+Brazil from the Portuguese.  The sixth edition of three thousand of the
+_Conduct of the Allies_ is sold, and the printer talks of a seventh:
+eleven thousand of them have been sold, which is a most prodigious run.
+The little twopenny _Letter of Advice to the October Club_ does not sell:
+I know not the reason, for it is finely written, I assure you; and, like
+a true author, I grow fond of it, because it does not sell: you know that
+it is usual to writers to condemn the judgment of the world: if I had
+hinted it to be mine, everybody would have bought it, but it is a great
+secret.
+
+29.  I borrowed one or two idle books of _Contes des Fées_, {392a} and
+have been reading them these two days, although I have much business upon
+my hands.  I loitered till one at home; then went to Mr. Lewis at his
+office; and the Vice-Chamberlain told me that Lady Rialton {392b} had
+yesterday resigned her employment of lady of the bed-chamber, and that
+Lady Jane Hyde, {392c} Lord Rochester’s daughter, a mighty pretty girl,
+is to succeed.  He said, too, that Lady Sunderland would resign in a day
+or two.  I dined with Lewis, and then went to see Mrs. Wesley, who is
+better to-day.  But you must know that Mr. Lewis gave me two letters, one
+from the Bishop of Cloyne, with an enclosed from Lord Inchiquin {392d} to
+Lord Treasurer, which he desires I would deliver and recommend.  I am
+told that lord was much in with Lord Wharton, and I remember he was to
+have been one of the Lords Justices by his recommendation; yet the Bishop
+recommends him as a great friend to the Church, etc.  I’ll do what I
+think proper.  T’other letter was from little saucy MD, N. 26.  O Lord,
+never saw the like, under a cover, too, and by way of journal; we shall
+never have done.  Sirrahs, how durst you write so soon, sirrahs?  I won’t
+answer it yet.
+
+30.  I was this morning with the Secretary, who was sick, and out of
+humour: he would needs drink champagne some days ago, on purpose to spite
+me, because I advised him against it, and now he pays for it.  Stella
+used to do such tricks formerly; he put me in mind of her.  Lady
+Sunderland has resigned her place too.  It is Lady Catherine Hyde {393a}
+that succeeds Lady Rialton, and not Lady Jane.  Lady Catherine is the
+late Earl of Rochester’s daughter.  I dined with the Secretary, then
+visited his lady; and sat this evening with Lady Masham: the Secretary
+came to us; but Lord Treasurer did not; he dined with the Master of the
+Rolls, {393b} and stayed late with him.  Our Society does not meet till
+to-morrow se’nnight, because we think the Parliament will be very busy
+to-morrow upon the state of the war, and the Secretary, who is to treat
+as President, must be in the House.  I fancy my talking of persons and
+things here must be very tedious to you, because you know nothing of
+them, and I talk as if you did.  You know Kevin’s Street, and Werburgh
+Street, and (what do you call the street where Mrs. Walls lives?) and
+Ingoldsby, {393c} and Higgins, {393d} and Lord Santry; {393e} but what
+care you for Lady Catherine Hyde?  Why do you say nothing of your health,
+sirrah?  I hope it is well.
+
+31.  Trimnel, Bishop of Norwich, {393f} who was with this Lord Sunderland
+at Moor Park in their travels, preached yesterday before the House of
+Lords; and to-day the question was put to thank him, and print his
+sermon; but passed against him; for it was a terrible Whig sermon.  The
+Bill to repeal the Act for naturalising Protestant foreigners passed the
+House of Lords to-day by a majority of twenty, though the Scotch lords
+went out, and would vote neither way, in discontent about the Duke of
+Hamilton’s patent, if you know anything of it.  A poem is come out to-day
+inscribed to me, by way of a flirt; {394a} for it is a Whiggish poem, and
+good for nothing.  They plagued me with it in the Court of Requests.  I
+dined with Lord Treasurer at five alone, only with one Dutchman.  Prior
+is now a Commissioner of the Customs.  I told you so before, I suppose.
+When I came home to-night, I found a letter from Dr. Sacheverell,
+thanking me for recommending his brother to Lord Treasurer and Mr.
+Secretary for a place.  Lord Treasurer sent to him about it: so good a
+solicitor was I, although I once hardly thought I should be a solicitor
+for Sacheverell.
+
+Feb. 1.  Has not your Dean of St. Patrick received my letter? you say
+nothing of it, although I writ above a month ago.  My printer has got the
+gout, and I was forced to go to him to-day, and there I dined.  It was a
+most delicious day: why don’t you observe whether the same days be fine
+with you?  To-night, at six, Dr. Atterbury, and Prior, and I, and Dr.
+Freind, met at Dr. Robert Freind’s {394b} house at Westminster, who is
+master of the school: there we sat till one, and were good enough
+company.  I here take leave to tell politic Dingley that the passage in
+the _Conduct of the Allies_ is so far from being blamable that the
+Secretary designs to insist upon it in the House of Commons, when the
+Treaty of Barrier {394c} is debated there, as it now shortly will, for
+they have ordered it to be laid before them.  The pamphlet of Advice to
+the October Club begins now to sell; but I believe its fame will hardly
+reach Ireland: ’tis finely written, I assure you.  I long to answer your
+letter, but won’t yet; you know, ’tis late, etc.
+
+2.  This ends Christmas, {395a} and what care I?  I have neither seen,
+nor felt, nor heard any Christmas this year.  I passed a lazy dull day.
+I was this morning with Lord Treasurer, to get some papers from him,
+which he will remember as much as a cat, although it be his own business.
+It threatened rain, but did not much; and Prior and I walked an hour in
+the Park, which quite put me out of my measures.  I dined with a friend
+hard by; and in the evening sat with Lord Masham till twelve.  Lord
+Treasurer did not come; this is an idle dining-day usually with him.  We
+want to hear from Holland how our peace goes on; for we are afraid of
+those scoundrels the Dutch, lest they should play us tricks.  Lord Mar,
+{395b} a Scotch earl, was with us at Lord Masham’s: I was arguing with
+him about the stubbornness and folly of his countrymen; they are so angry
+about the affair of the Duke of Hamilton, whom the Queen has made a duke
+of England, and the House of Lords will not admit him.  He swears he
+would vote for us, but dare not, because all Scotland would detest him if
+he did: he should never be chosen again, nor be able to live there.
+
+3.  I was at Court to-day to look for a dinner, but did not like any that
+were offered me; and I dined with Lord Mountjoy.  The Queen has the gout
+in her knee, and was not at chapel.  I hear we have a Dutch mail, but I
+know not what news, although I was with the Secretary this morning.  He
+showed me a letter from the Hanover Envoy, Mr. Bothmar, complaining that
+the Barrier Treaty is laid before the House of Commons; and desiring that
+no infringement may be made in the guarantee of the succession; but the
+Secretary has written him a peppering answer.  I fancy you understand all
+this, and are able states-girls, since you have read the _Conduct of the
+Allies_.  We are all preparing against the Birthday; I think it is
+Wednesday next.  If the Queen’s gout increases, it will spoil sport.
+Prince Eugene has two fine suits made against it; and the Queen is to
+give him a sword worth four thousand pounds, the diamonds set
+transparent.
+
+4.  I was this morning soliciting at the House of Commons’ door for Mr.
+Vesey, a son of the Archbishop of Tuam, {396} who has petitioned for a
+Bill to relieve him in some difficulty about his estate: I secured him
+above fifty members.  I dined with Lady Masham.  We have no packet from
+Holland, as I was told yesterday: and this wind will hinder many people
+from appearing at the Birthday, who expected clothes from Holland.  I
+appointed to meet a gentleman at the Secretary’s to-night, and they both
+failed.  The House of Commons have this day made many severe votes about
+our being abused by our Allies.  Those who spoke drew all their arguments
+from my book, and their votes confirm all I writ; the Court had a
+majority of a hundred and fifty: all agree that it was my book that
+spirited them to these resolutions; I long to see them in print.  My head
+has not been as well as I could wish it for some days past, but I have
+not had any giddy fit, and I hope it will go over.
+
+5.  The Secretary turned me out of his room this morning, and showed me
+fifty guineas rolled up, which he was going to give some French spy.  I
+dined with four Irishmen at a tavern to-day: I thought I had resolved
+against it before, but I broke it.  I played at cards this evening at
+Lady Masham’s, but I only played for her while she was waiting; and I won
+her a pool, and supped there.  Lord Treasurer was with us, but went away
+before twelve.  The ladies and lords have all their clothes ready against
+to-morrow: I saw several mighty fine, and I hope there will be a great
+appearance, in spite of that spiteful French fashion of the Whiggish
+ladies not to come, which they have all resolved to a woman; and I hope
+it will more spirit the Queen against them for ever.
+
+6.  I went to dine at Lord Masham’s at three, and met all the company
+just coming out of Court; a mighty crowd: they stayed long for their
+coaches: I had an opportunity of seeing several lords and ladies of my
+acquaintance in their fineries.  Lady Ashburnham {397a} looked the best
+in my eyes.  They say the Court was never fuller nor finer.  Lord
+Treasurer, his lady, and two daughters and Mrs. Hill, dined with Lord and
+Lady Masham; the five ladies were monstrous fine.  The Queen gave Prince
+Eugene the diamond sword to-day; but nobody was by when she gave it
+except my Lord Chamberlain.  There was an entertainment of opera songs at
+night, and the Queen was at all the entertainment, and is very well after
+it.  I saw Lady Wharton, {397b} as ugly as the devil, coming out in the
+crowd all in an undress; she has been with the Marlborough daughters
+{397c} and Lady Bridgewater {397d} in St. James’s, looking out of the
+window all undressed to see the sight.  I do not hear that one Whig lady
+was there, except those of the bed-chamber.  Nothing has made so great a
+noise as one Kelson’s chariot, that cost nine hundred and thirty pounds,
+the finest was ever seen.  The rabble huzzaed him as much as they did
+Prince Eugene.  This is Birthday chat.
+
+7.  Our Society met to-day: the Duke of Ormond was not with us; we have
+lessened our dinners, which were grown so extravagant that Lord Treasurer
+and everybody else cried shame.  I left them at seven, visited for an
+hour, and then came home, like a good boy.  The Queen is much better
+after yesterday’s exercise: her friends wish she would use a little more.
+I opposed Lord Jersey’s {397e} election into our Society, and he is
+refused: I likewise opposed the Duke of Beaufort; but I believe he will
+be chosen in spite of me: I don’t much care; I shall not be with them
+above two months; for I resolve to set out for Ireland the beginning of
+April next (before I treat them again), and see my willows.
+
+8.  I dined to-day in the City.  This morning a scoundrel dog, one of the
+Queen’s music, a German, whom I had never seen, got access to me in my
+chamber by Patrick’s folly, and gravely desired me to get an employment
+in the Customs for a friend of his, who would be very grateful; and
+likewise to forward a project of his own, for raising ten thousand pounds
+a year upon operas: I used him civiller than he deserved; but it vexed me
+to the pluck. {398a}  He was told I had a mighty interest with Lord
+Treasurer, and one word of mine, etc.  Well; I got home early on purpose
+to answer MD’s letter, N. 26; for this goes to-morrow.—Well; I never saw
+such a letter in all my life; so saucy, so journalish, so sanguine, so
+pretending, so everything.  I satisfied all your fears in my last: all is
+gone well, as you say; yet you are an impudent slut to be so positive;
+you will swagger so upon your sagacity that we shall never have done.
+Pray don’t mislay your reply; I would certainly print it, if I had it
+here: how long is it? I suppose half a sheet: was the answer written in
+Ireland?  Yes, yes, you shall have a letter when you come from Ballygall.
+I need not tell you again who’s out and who’s in: we can never get out
+the Duchess of Somerset.—So, they say Presto writ the _Conduct_, etc.  Do
+they like it?  I don’t care whether they do or no; but the resolutions
+printed t’other day in the Votes are almost quotations from it, and would
+never have passed if that book had not been written.  I will not meddle
+with the Spectator, let him fair-sex it to the world’s end.  My disorder
+is over, but blood was not from the p-les.—Well, Madam Dingley, the
+frost; why, we had a great frost, but I forget how long ago; it lasted
+above a week or ten days: I believe about six weeks ago; but it did not
+break so soon with us, I think, as December 29; yet I think it was about
+that time, on second thoughts.  MD can have no letter from Presto, says
+you; and yet four days before you own you had my thirty-seventh,
+unreasonable sluts!  The Bishop of Gloucester is not dead, {398b} and I
+am as likely to succeed the Duke of Marlborough as him if he were;
+there’s enough for that now.  It is not unlikely that the Duke of
+Shrewsbury will be your Governor; at least I believe the Duke of Ormond
+will not return.—Well, Stella again: why, really three editions of the
+_Conduct_, etc., is very much for Ireland; it is a sign you have some
+honest among you.  Well; I will do Mr. Manley {399a} all the service I
+can; but he will ruin himself.  What business had he to engage at all
+about the City?  Can’t he wish his cause well, and be quiet, when he
+finds that stirring will do it no good, and himself a great deal of hurt?
+I cannot imagine who should open my letter: it must be done at your
+side.—If I hear of any thoughts of turning out Mr. Manley, I will
+endeavour to prevent it.  I have already had all the gentlemen of Ireland
+here upon my back often, for defending him.  So now I have answered your
+saucy letter.  My humble service to Goody Stoyte and Catherine; I will
+come soon for my dinner.
+
+9.  Morning.  My cold goes off at last; but I think I have got a small
+new one.  I have no news since last.  They say we hear by the way of
+Calais, that peace is very near concluding.  I hope it may be true.  I’ll
+go and seal up my letter, and give it myself to-night into the
+post-office; and so I bid my dearest MD farewell till to-night.  I
+heartily wish myself with them, as hope saved.  My willows, and
+quicksets, and trees, will be finely improved, I hope, this year.  It has
+been fine hard frosty weather yesterday and to-day.  Farewell, etc. etc.
+etc.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLI. {399b}
+
+
+                                                LONDON, _Feb._ 9, 1711–12.
+
+WHEN my letter is gone, and I have none of yours to answer, my conscience
+is so clear, and my shoulder so light, and I go on with such courage to
+prate upon nothing to deerichar MD, oo would wonder.  I dined with Sir
+Matthew Dudley, who is newly turned out of Commission of the Customs.  He
+affects a good heart, and talks in the extremity of Whiggery, which was
+always his principle, though he was gentle a little, while he kept in
+employment.  We can yet get no packets from Holland.  I have not been
+with any of the Ministry these two or three days.  I keep out of their
+way on purpose, for a certain reason, for some time, though I must dine
+with the Secretary to-morrow, the choosing of the company being left to
+me.  I have engaged Lord Anglesea {400a} and Lord Carteret, {400b} and
+have promised to get three more; but I have a mind that none else should
+be admitted: however, if I like anybody at Court to-morrow, I may perhaps
+invite them.  I have got another cold, but not very bad.  Nite . . . MD.
+
+10.  I saw Prince Eugene at Court to-day very plain; he’s plaguy yellow,
+and tolerably ugly besides.  The Court was very full, and people had
+their Birthday clothes.  I dined with the Secretary to-day.  I was to
+invite five, but I only invited two, Lord Anglesea and Lord Carteret.
+Pshaw, I told you this but yesterday.  We have no packets from Holland
+yet.  Here are a parcel of drunken Whiggish lords, like your Lord Santry,
+{400c} who come into chocolate-houses and rail aloud at the Tories, and
+have challenges sent them, and the next morning come and beg pardon.
+General Ross {400d} was like to swinge the Marquis of Winchester {400e}
+for this trick t’other day; and we have nothing else now to talk of till
+the Parliament has had another bout with the state of the war, as they
+intended in a few days.  They have ordered the Barrier Treaty to be laid
+before them; and it was talked some time ago, as if there was a design to
+impeach Lord Townshend, who made it.  I have no more politics now.  Nite
+dee MD.
+
+11.  I dined with Lord Anglesea to-day, who had seven Irishmen to be my
+companions, of which two only were coxcombs; one I did not know, and
+t’other was young Blith, {401a} who is a puppy of figure here, with a
+fine chariot.  He asked me one day at Court, when I had been just talking
+with some lords who stood near me, “Doctor, when shall we see you in the
+county of Meath?”  I whispered him to take care what he said, for the
+people would think he was some barbarian.  He never would speak to me
+since, till we met to-day.  I went to Lady Masham’s to-night, and sat
+with Lord Treasurer and the Secretary there till past two o’clock; and
+when I came home, found some letters from Ireland, which I read, but can
+say nothing of them till to-morrow, ’tis so very late; but I {401b} must
+always be . . ., {401c} late or early.  Nite deelest sollahs. {401d}
+
+12.  One letter was from the Bishop of Clogher last night, and t’other
+from Walls, about Mrs. South’s {401e} salary, and his own pension of £18
+for his tithe of the park.  I will do nothing in either; the first I
+cannot serve in, and the other is a trifle; only you may tell him I had
+his letter, and will speak to Ned Southwell about what he desires me.
+You say nothing of your Dean’s receiving my letter.  I find Clements,
+{401f} whom I recommended to Lord Anglesea last year, at Walls’s desire,
+or rather the Bishop of Clogher’s, is mightily in Lord Anglesea’s favour.
+You may tell the Bishop and Walls so; I said to Lord Anglesea that I was
+[glad] I had the good luck to recommend him, etc.  I dined in the City
+with my printer, to consult with him about some papers Lord Treasurer
+gave me last night, as he always does, too late; however, I will do
+something with them.  My third cold is a little better; I never had
+anything like it before, three colds successively; I hope I shall have
+the fourth. {402a}  Those messengers come from Holland to-day, and they
+brought over the six packets that were due.  I know not the particulars
+yet, for when I was with the Secretary at noon they were just opening;
+but one thing I find, that the Dutch are playing us tricks, and tampering
+with the French; they are dogs; I shall know more tomollow . . . MD.
+{402b}
+
+13.  I dined to-day privately with my friend Lewis, at his lodgings, to
+consult about some observations on the Barrier Treaty.  Our news from
+Holland is not good.  The French raise difficulties, and make such offers
+to the Allies as cannot be accepted.  And the Dutch are uneasy that we
+are likely to get anything for ourselves; and the Whigs are glad at all
+this.  I came home early, and have been very busy three or four hours.  I
+had a letter from Dr. Pratt {402c} to-day by a private hand, recommending
+the bearer to me, for something that I shall not trouble myself about.
+Wesley {402d} writ to recommend the same fellow to me.  His expression is
+that, hearing I am acquainted with my Lord Treasurer, he desires I would
+do so and so: a matter of nothing.  What puppies are mankind!  I hope I
+shall be wiser when I have once done with Courts.  I think you han’t
+troubled me much with your recommendations.  I would do you all the
+saavis {402e} I could.
+
+Pray have you got your aplon, {402f} maram Ppt?  I paid for it but
+yesterday; that puts me in mind of it.  I writ an inventory of what
+things I sent by Leigh in one of my letters; did you compare it with what
+you got?  I hear nothing of your cards now; do you never play?  Yes, at
+Ballygall.  Go to bed.  Nite, deelest MD. {402g}
+
+14.  Our Society dined to-day at Mr. Secretary’s house.  I went there at
+four; but hearing the House of Commons would sit late upon the Barrier
+Treaty, I went for an hour to Kensington, to see Lord Masham’s children.
+My young nephew, {403a} his son of six months old, has got a swelling in
+his neck; I fear it is the evil.  We did not go to dinner till eight at
+night, and I left them at ten.  The Commons have been very severe on the
+Barrier Treaty, as you will find by their votes.  A Whig member took out
+the _Conduct of the Allies_, and read that passage about the succession
+with great resentment; but none seconded him.  The Church party carried
+every vote by a great majority.  The A.B. {403b} Dublin is so railed at
+by all who come from Ireland that I can defend him no longer.  Lord
+Anglesea assured me that the story of applying Piso out of Tacitus {403c}
+to Lord Treasurer’s being wounded is true.  I believe the Duke of
+Beaufort will be admitted to our Society next meeting.  To-day I
+published the _Fable of Midas_, {403d} a poem, printed in a loose
+half-sheet of paper.  I know not how it will sell; but it passed
+wonderfully at our Society to-night; and Mr. Secretary read it before me
+the other night to Lord Treasurer, at Lord Masham’s, where they equally
+approved of it.  Tell me how it passes with you.  I think this paper is
+larger than ordinary; for here is six days’ journal, and no nearer the
+bottom.  I fear these journals are very dull.  Nite my deelest lives.
+
+15.  Mr. Lewis and I dined by invitation with a Scotch acquaintance,
+after I had been very busy in my chamber till two afternoon.  My third
+cold is now very troublesome on my breast, especially in the morning.
+This is a great revolution in my health; colds never used to return so
+soon with me, or last so long.  ’Tis very surprising this news to-day of
+the Dauphin and Dauphiness both dying within six days.  They say the old
+King is almost heart-broke.  He has had prodigious mortifications in his
+family.  The Dauphin has left two little sons, of four and two years old;
+the eldest is sick.  There is a foolish story got about the town that
+Lord Strafford, one of our Plenipotentiaries, is in the interests of
+France; and it has been a good while said that Lord Privy Seal {404a} and
+he do not agree very well.  They are both long practised in business, but
+neither of them of much parts.  Strafford has some life and spirit, but
+is infinitely proud, and wholly illiterate.  Nite, MD.
+
+16.  I dined to-day in the City with my printer, to finish something I am
+doing about the Barrier Treaty; {404b} but it is not quite done.  I went
+this evening to Lord Masham’s, where Lord Treasurer sat with us till past
+twelve.  The Lords have voted an Address to the Queen, to tell her they
+are not satisfied with the King of France’s offers.  The Whigs brought it
+in of a sudden; and the Court could not prevent it, and therefore did not
+oppose it.  The House of Lords is too strong in Whigs, notwithstanding
+the new creations; for they are very diligent, and the Tories as lazy:
+the side that is down has always most industry.  The Whigs intended to
+have made a vote that would reflect on Lord Treasurer; but their project
+was not ripe.  I hit my face such a rap by calling the coach to stop
+to-night, that it is plaguy sore, the bone beneath the eye.  Nite dee
+logues.
+
+17.  The Court was mighty full to-day, and has been these many Sundays;
+but the Queen was not at chapel.  She has got a little fit of the gout in
+her foot.  The good of going to Court is that one sees all one’s
+acquaintance, whom otherwise I should hardly meet twice a year.  Prince
+Eugene dines with the Secretary to-day, with about seven or eight General
+Officers, or foreign Ministers.  They will be all drunk, I am sure.  I
+never was in company with this Prince: I have proposed to some lords that
+we should have a sober meal with him; but I can’t compass it.  It is come
+over in the Dutch news prints that I was arrested on an action of twenty
+thousand pounds by the Duke of Marlborough.  I did not like my Court
+invitation to-day; so Sir Andrew Fountaine and I went and dined with Mrs.
+Van.  I came home at six, and have been very busy till this minute, and
+it is past twelve.  So I got into bed to write to MD . . . MD. {405a}  We
+reckon the Dauphin’s death will put forward the peace a good deal.  Pray
+is Dr. Griffith {405b} reconciled to me yet?  Have I done enough to
+soften him? . . . {405c}  Nite deelest logues.
+
+18.  Lewis had Guiscard’s picture: he bought it, and offered it to Lord
+Treasurer, who promised to send for it, but never did; so I made Lewis
+give it me, and I have it in my room; and now Lord Treasurer says he will
+take it from me: is that fair?  He designs to have it at length in the
+clothes he was when he did the action, and a penknife in his hand; and
+Kneller is to copy it from this that I have.  I intended to dine with
+Lord Treasurer to-day, but he has put me off till to-morrow; so I dined
+with Lord Dupplin.  You know Lord Dupplin very well; he is a brother of
+the Society.  Well, but I have received a letter from the Bishop of
+Cloyne, to solicit an affair for him with Lord Treasurer, and with the
+Parliament, which I will do as soon as fly.  I am not near so keen about
+other people’s affairs as . . . {405d}  Ppt used to reproach me about; it
+was a judgment on me.  Harkee, idle dearees both, meetinks I begin to
+want a rettle flom {405e} MD: faith, and so I do.  I doubt you have been
+in pain about the report of my being arrested.  The pamphleteers have let
+me alone this month, which is a great wonder: only the third part of the
+_Answer to the Conduct_, which is lately come out.  (Did I tell you of it
+already?)  The House of Commons goes on in mauling the late Ministry and
+their proceedings.  Nite deelest MD. {406a}
+
+19.  I dined with Lord Treasurer to-day, and sat with him till ten, in
+spite of my teeth, though my printer waited for me to correct a sheet.  I
+told him of four lines I writ extempore with my pencil, on a bit of paper
+in his house, while he lay wounded.  Some of the servants, I suppose,
+made waste-paper of them, and he never had heard of them.  Shall I tell
+them you?  They were inscribed to Mr. Harley’s physician.  Thus
+
+    On Britain Europe’s safety lies; {406b}
+    Britain is lost, if Harley dies.
+    Harley depends upon your skill:
+    Think what you save, or what you kill.
+
+Are not they well enough to be done off-hand; for that is the meaning of
+the word extempore, which you did not know, did you?  I proposed that
+some company should dine with him on the 8th of March, which was the day
+he was wounded, but he says he designs that the Lords of the Cabinet, who
+then sat with him, should dine that day with him: {406c} however, he has
+invited me too.  I am not got rid of my cold; it plagues me in the
+morning chiefly.  Nite, MD.
+
+20.  After waiting to catch the Secretary coming out from Sir Thomas
+Hanmer, for two hours, in vain, about some business, I went into the City
+to my printer, to correct some sheets of the _Barrier Treaty and
+Remarks_, which must be finished to-morrow: I have been horrible busy for
+some days past, with this and some other things; and I wanted some very
+necessary papers, which the Secretary was to give me, and the pamphlet
+must now be published without them.  But they are all busy too.  Sir
+Thomas Hanmer is Chairman of the Committee for drawing up a
+Representation of the state of the nation {406d} to the Queen, where all
+the wrong steps of the Allies and late Ministry about the war will be
+mentioned.  The Secretary, I suppose, was helping him about it to-day; I
+believe it will be a pepperer.  Nite, deel MD.
+
+21.  I have been six hours to-day morning writing nineteen pages of a
+letter to Lord Treasurer, about forming a Society or Academy to correct
+and fix the English language. {407a}  (Is English a speech or a
+language?)  It will not be above five or six more.  I will send it to him
+to-morrow, and will print it, if he desires me.  I dined, you know, with
+our Society to-day: Thursday is our day.  We had a new member admitted;
+it was the Duke of Beaufort.  We had thirteen met: brother Ormond was not
+there, but sent his excuse that Prince Eugene dined with him.  I left
+them at seven, being engaged to go to Sir Thomas Hanmer, who desired I
+would see him at that hour.  His business was that I would _hoenlbp
+ihainm itavoi dsroanws ubpl tohne sroegporaensiepnotlastoigobn_, {407b}
+which I consented to do; but know not whether I shall succeed, because it
+is a little out of my way.  However, I have taken my share.  Nite, MD.
+
+22.  I finished the rest of my letter to Lord Treasurer to-day, and sent
+it to him about one o’clock; and then dined privately with my friend Mr.
+Lewis, to talk over some affairs of moment.  I had gotten the thirteenth
+volume of Rymer’s Collection of the Records of the Tower for the
+University of Dublin. {407c}  I have two volumes now.  I will write to
+the Provost, to know how I shall send them to him; no, I won’t, for I
+will bring them myself among my own books.  I was with Hanmer this
+morning, and there were the Secretary and Chancellor of the Exchequer
+{407d} very busy with him, laying their heads together about the
+representation.  I went to Lord Masham’s to-night, and Lady Masham made
+me read to her a pretty twopenny pamphlet, called _The St. Albans
+__Ghost_. {408a}  I thought I had writ it myself; so did they; but I did
+not.  Lord Treasurer came down to us from the Queen, and we stayed till
+two o’clock.  That is the best night-place I have.  The usual {408b}
+company are Lord and Lady Masham, Lord Treasurer, Dr. Arbuthnot, and I;
+sometimes the Secretary, and sometimes Mrs. Hill of the bed-chamber, Lady
+Masham’s sister.  I assure oo, it im vely rate now; but zis goes
+to-morrow: and I must have time to converse with own richar MD.  Nite,
+deelest sollahs. {408c}
+
+23.  I have no news to tell you this last day, nor do I know where I
+shall dine.  I hear the Secretary is a little out of order; perhaps I may
+dine there, perhaps not.  I sent Hanmer what he wanted from me, I know
+not how he will approve of it.  I was to do more of the same sort; I am
+going out, and must carry zis in my pottick to give it at some general
+post-house.  I will talk further with oo at night.  I suppose in my next
+I shall answer a letter from MD that will be sent me.  On Tuesday it will
+be four weeks since I had your last, N. 26.  This day se’nnight I expect
+one, for that will be something more than a full month.  Farewell, MD . . .
+deelest . . . MD MD MD . . . ME ME ME . . . logues . . . lele. {408d}
+
+
+
+LETTER XLII. {408e}
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _Feb._ 23, 1711–12.
+
+AFTER having disposed my last letter in the post-office, I am now to
+begin this with telling MD that I dined with the Secretary to-day, who is
+much out of order with a cold, and feverish; yet he went to the Cabinet
+Council to-night at six, against my will.  The Secretary is much the
+greatest commoner in England, and turns the whole Parliament, who can do
+nothing without him; and if he lives and has his health, will, I believe,
+be one day at the head of affairs.  I have told him sometimes that, if I
+were a dozen years younger, I would cultivate his favour, and trust my
+fortune with his.  But what care oo for all this?  I am sorry when I came
+first acquainted with this Ministry that I did not send you their names
+and characters, and then you would have relished what {409a} I would have
+writ, especially if I had let you into the particulars of affairs: but
+enough of this.  Nite, deelest logues.
+
+24.  I went early this morning to the Secretary, who is not yet well.
+Sir Thomas Hanmer and the Chancellor of the Exchequer came while I was
+there, and he would not let me stir; so I did not go to church, but was
+busy with them till noon, about the affair I told you in my last.  The
+other two went away; and I dined with the Secretary, and found my head
+very much out of order, but no absolute fit; and I have not been well all
+this day.  It has shook me a little.  I sometimes sit up very late at
+Lord Masham’s, and have writ much for several days past: but I will amend
+both; for I have now very little business, and hope I shall have no more,
+and I am resolved to be a great rider this summer in Ireland.  I was to
+see Mrs. Wesley this evening, who has been somewhat better for this month
+past, and talks of returning to the Bath in a few weeks.  Our peace goes
+on but slowly; the Dutch are playing tricks, and we do not push it
+strongly as we ought.  The fault of our Court is delay, of which the
+Queen has a great deal; and Lord Treasurer is not without his share.  But
+pay richar MD ret us know a little of your life and tonvelsasens. {409b}
+Do you play at ombre, or visit the Dean, and Goody Walls and Stoytes and
+Manleys, as usual?  I must have a letter from oo, to fill the other side
+of this sheet.  Let me know what you do.  Is my aunt alive yet?
+
+Oh, pray, now I think of it, be so kind to step to my aunt, and take
+notice of my great-grandfather’s picture; you know he has a ring on his
+finger, with a seal of an anchor and dolphin about it; but I think there
+is besides, at the bottom of the picture, the same coat of arms quartered
+with another, which I suppose was my great-grandmother’s.  If this be so,
+it is a stronger argument than the seal.  And pray see whether you think
+that coat of arms was drawn at the same time with the picture, or whether
+it be of a later hand; and ask my aunt what she knows about it.  But
+perhaps there is no such coat of arms on the picture, and I only dreamed
+it.  My reason is, because I would ask some herald here, whether I should
+choose that coat, or one in Guillim’s large folio of heraldry, {410a}
+where my uncle Godwin is named with another coat of arms of three stags.
+This is sad stuff to rite; so nite, MD.
+
+25.  I was this morning again with the Secretary, and we were two hours
+busy; and then went together to the Park, Hyde Park, I mean; and he
+walked to cure his cold, and we were looking at two Arabian horses sent
+some time ago to Lord Treasurer. {410b}  The Duke of Marlborough’s coach
+overtook us, with his Grace and Lord Godolphin in it; but they did not
+see us, to our great satisfaction; for neither of us desired that either
+of those two lords should see us together.  There was half a dozen ladies
+riding like cavaliers to take the air.  My head is better to-day.  I
+dined with the Secretary; but we did no business after dinner, and at six
+I walked into the fields; the days are grown pure and long; then I went
+to visit Perceval {410c} and his family, whom I had seen but twice since
+they came to town.  They too are going to the Bath next month.  Countess
+Doll of Meath {410d} is such an owl that, wherever I visit, people are
+asking me whether I know such an Irish lady, and her figure and her
+foppery?  I came home early, and have been amusing myself with looking
+into one of Rymer’s volumes of the Records of the Tower, and am mighty
+easy to think I have no urgent business upon my hands.  My third cold is
+not yet off; I sometimes cough, and am not right with it in the morning.
+Did I tell you that I believe it is Lady Masham’s hot room that gives it
+me?  I never knew such a stove; and in my conscience I believe both my
+lord and she, my Lord Treasurer, Mr. Secretary, and myself have all
+suffered by it.  We have all had colds together, but I walk home on foot.
+Nite dee logues.
+
+26.  I was again busy with the Secretary. {411}  We read over some
+papers, and did a good deal of business; and I dined with him, and we
+were to do more business after dinner; but after dinner is after
+dinner—an old saying and a true, “much drinking, little thinking.”  We
+had company with us, and nothing could be done, and I am to go there
+again to-morrow.  I have now nothing to do; and the Parliament, by the
+Queen’s recommendation, is to take some method for preventing libels,
+etc., which will include pamphlets, I suppose.  I don’t know what method
+they will take, but it comes on in a day or two.  To-day in the morning I
+visited upwards: first I saw the Duke of Ormond below stairs, and gave
+him joy of his being declared General in Flanders; then I went up one
+pair of stairs, and sat with the Duchess; then I went up another pair of
+stairs, and paid a visit to Lady Betty; and desired her woman to go up to
+the garret, that I might pass half an hour with her, but she was young
+and handsome, and would not.  The Duke is our President this week, and I
+have bespoke a small dinner on purpose, for good example.  Nite mi
+deelest logues.
+
+27.  I was again with the Secretary this morning; but we only read over
+some papers with Sir Thomas Hanmer; then I called at Lord Treasurer’s; it
+was his levee-day, but I went up to his bed-chamber, and said what I had
+to say.  I came down and peeped in at the chamber, where a hundred fools
+were waiting, and two streets were full of coaches.  I dined in the City
+with my printer, {412a} and came back at six to Lord Treasurer, who had
+invited me to dinner, but I refused him.  I sat there an hour or two, and
+then went to Lord Masham’s.  They were all abroad: so truly I came, and
+read whatever stuff was next me.  I can sit and be idle now, which I have
+not been above a year past.  However, I will stay out the session, to see
+if they have any further commands for me, and that, I suppose, will end
+in April.  But I may go somewhat before, for I hope all will be ended by
+then, and we shall have either a certain peace, or certain war.  The
+Ministry is contriving new funds for money by lotteries, and we go on as
+if the war were to continue, but I believe it will not.  ’Tis pretty late
+now, ung oomens; so I bid oo nite, own dee dallars.
+
+28.  I have been packing up some books in a great box I have bought, and
+must buy another for clothes and luggage.  This is a beginning towards a
+removal.  I have sent to Holland for a dozen shirts, and design to buy
+another new gown and hat.  I will come over like a zinkerman, {412b} and
+lay out nothing in clothes in Ireland this good while.  I have writ this
+night to the Provost.  Our Society met to-day as usual, and we were
+fourteen, beside the Earl of Arran, {412c} whom his brother, the Duke of
+Ormond, brought among us against all order.  We were mightily shocked;
+but, after some whispers, it ended in choosing Lord Arran one of our
+Society, which I opposed to his face, but it was carried by all the rest
+against me.
+
+29.  This is leap year, and this is leap day.  Prince George was born on
+this day.  People are mistaken; and some here think it is St. David’s
+Day; but they do not understand the virtue of leap year.  I have nothing
+to do now, boys, and have been reading all this day like Gumdragon; and
+yet I was dictating some trifles this morning to a printer.  I dined with
+a friend hard by, and the weather was so discouraging I could not walk.
+I came home early, and have read two hundred pages of Arran.  Alexander
+the Great is just dead: I do not think he was poisoned; betwixt you and
+me, all those are but idle stories: it is certain that neither Ptolemy
+nor Aristobulus thought so, and they were both with him when he {413a}
+died.  It is a pity we have not their histories.  The Bill for limiting
+Members of Parliament to have but so many places passed the House of
+Commons, and will pass the House of Lords, in spite of the Ministry,
+which you know is a great lessening of the Queen’s power.  Four of the
+new lords voted against the Court in this point.  It is certainly a good
+Bill in the reign of an ill prince, but I think things are not settled
+enough for it at present.  And the Court may want a majority upon a
+pinch.  Nite deelest logues.  Rove Pdfr.
+
+March 1.  I went into the City to inquire after poor Stratford, {413b}
+who has put himself a prisoner into the Queen’s Bench, for which his
+friends blame him much, because his creditors designed to be very easy
+with him.  He grasped at too many things together, and that was his ruin.
+There is one circumstance relative to Lieutenant-General Meredith {413c}
+that is very melancholy: Meredith was turned out of all his employments
+last year, and had about £10,000 left to live on.  Stratford, upon
+friendship, desired he might have the management of it for Meredith, to
+put it into the stocks and funds for the best advantage, and now he has
+lost it all.  You have heard me often talk of Stratford; we were
+class-fellows at school and university.  I dined with some merchants, his
+friends, to-day, and they said they expected his breaking this good
+while.  I gave him notice of a treaty of peace, while it was a secret, of
+which he might have made good use, but that helped to ruin him; for he
+gave money, reckoning there would be actually a peace by this time, and
+consequently stocks rise high.  Ford narrowly ’scaped losing £500 by him,
+and so did I too.  Nite, my two deelest rives MD.
+
+2.  Morning.  I was wakened at three this morning, my man and the people
+of the house telling me of a great fire in the Haymarket.  I slept again,
+and two hours after my man came in again, and told me it was my poor
+brother Sir William Wyndham’s {414a} house burnt, and that two maids,
+leaping out of an upper room to avoid the fire, both fell on their heads,
+one of them upon the iron spikes before the door, and both lay dead in
+the streets.  It is supposed to have been some carelessness of one or
+both those maids.  The Duke of Ormond was there helping to put out the
+fire.  Brother Wyndham gave £6,000 but a few months ago for that house,
+as he told me, and it was very richly furnished.  I shall know more
+particulars at night.  He married Lady Catherine Seymour, the Duke of
+Somerset’s daughter; you know her, I believe.—At night.  Wyndham’s young
+child escaped very narrowly; Lady Catherine escaped barefoot; they all
+went to Northumberland House.  Mr. Brydges’s {414b} house, at next door,
+is damaged much, and was like to be burnt.  Wyndham has lost above
+£10,000 by this accident; his lady above a thousand pounds worth of
+clothes.  It was a terrible accident.  He was not at Court to-day.  I
+dined with Lord Masham.  The Queen was not at church.  Nite, MD.
+
+3.  Pray tell Walls that I spoke to the Duke of Ormond and Mr. Southwell
+about his friend’s affair, who, I find, needed not me for a solicitor,
+for they both told me the thing would be done.  I likewise mentioned his
+own affair to Mr. Southwell, and I hope that will be done too, for
+Southwell seems to think it reasonable, and I will mind him of it again.
+Tell him this nakedly.  You need not know the particulars.  They are
+secrets: one of them is about Mrs. South having a pension; the other
+about his salary from the Government for the tithes of the park that lie
+in his parish, to be put upon the establishment, but oo must not know
+zees sings, zey are secrets; and we must keep them flom nauty dallars.  I
+dined in the City with my printer, with whom I had some small affair; but
+I have no large work on my hands now.  I was with Lord Treasurer this
+morning, and hat {415a} care oo for zat?  Oo dined with the Dean to-day.
+Monday is parson’s holiday, and oo lost oo money at cards and dice; ze
+Givars {415b} device.  So I’ll go to bed.  Nite, my two deelest logues.
+
+4.  I sat to-day with poor Mrs. Wesley, who made me dine with her.  She
+is much better than she was.  I heartily pray for her health, out of the
+entire love I bear to her worthy husband.  This day has passed very
+insignificantly.  But it is a great comfort to me now that I can come
+home and read, and have nothing upon my hands to write.  I was at Lord
+Masham’s to-night, and stayed there till one.  Lord Treasurer was there;
+but I thought, I thought he looked melancholy, just as he did at the
+beginning of the session, and he was not so merry as usual.  In short,
+the majority in the House of Lords is a very weak one: and he has much
+ado to keep it up; and he is not able to make those removes he would, and
+oblige his friends; and I doubt too {415c} he does not take care enough
+about it, or rather cannot do all himself, and will not employ others:
+which is his great fault, as I have often told you.  ’Tis late.  Nite,
+MD.
+
+5.  I wish you a merry Lent.  I hate Lent; I hate different diets, and
+furmity and butter, and herb porridge; and sour devout faces of people
+who only put on religion for seven weeks.  I was at the Secretary’s
+office this morning; and there a gentleman brought me two letters, dated
+last October; one from the Bishop of Clogher, t’other from Walls.  The
+gentleman is called Colonel Newburgh. {416a}  I think you mentioned him
+to me some time ago; he has business in the House of Lords.  I will do
+him what service I can.  The Representation of the House of Commons is
+printed: {416b}  I have not seen it yet; it is plaguy severe, they say.
+I dined with Dr. Arbuthnot, and had a true Lenten dinner, not in point of
+victuals, but spleen; for his wife and a child or two were sick in the
+house, and that was full as mortifying as fish.  We have had fine mighty
+cold frosty weather for some days past.  I hope you take the advantage of
+it, and walk now and then.  You never answer that part of my letters
+where I desire you to walk.  I must keep my breath to cool my Lenten
+porridge.  Tell Jemmy Leigh that his boy that robbed him now appears
+about the town: Patrick has seen him once or twice.  I knew nothing of
+his being robbed till Patrick told me he had seen the boy.  I wish it had
+been Sterne that had been robbed, to be revenged for the box that he
+lost, {416c} and be p-xed to him.  Nite, MD.
+
+6.  I hear Mr. Prior has suffered by Stratford’s breaking.  I was
+yesterday to see Prior, who is not well, and I thought he looked
+melancholy.  He can ill afford to lose money.  I walked before dinner in
+the Mall a good while with Lord Arran and Lord Dupplin, two of my
+brothers, and then we went to dinner, where the Duke of Beaufort was our
+President.  We were but eleven to-day.  We are now in all nine lords and
+ten commoners.  The Duke of Beaufort had the confidence to propose his
+brother-in-law, the Earl of Danby, {417a} to be a member; but I opposed
+it so warmly that it was waived.  Danby is not above twenty, and we will
+have no more boys, and we want but two to make up our number.  I stayed
+till eight, and then we all went away soberly.  The Duke of Ormond’s
+treat last week cost £20, though it was only four dishes and four,
+without a dessert; and I bespoke it in order to be cheap.  Yet I could
+not prevail to change the house.  Lord Treasurer is in a rage with us for
+being so extravagant: and the wine was not reckoned neither; for that is
+always brought by him that is President.  Lord Orrery {417b} is to be
+President next week; and I will see whether it cannot be cheaper; or else
+we will leave the house. . . . {417c}  Lord Masham made me go home with
+him to-night to eat boiled oysters.  Take oysters, wash them clean; that
+is, wash their shells clean; then put your oysters into an earthen pot,
+with their hollow sides down, then put this pot into a great kettle with
+water, and so let them boil.  Your oysters are boiled in their own
+liquor, and not mixed water.  Lord Treasurer was not with us; he was very
+ill to-day with a swimming in the head, and is gone home to be cupped,
+and sent to desire Lady Masham to excuse him to the Queen.  Nite, dee MD.
+
+7.  I was to-day at the House of Lords about a friend’s Bill.  Then I
+crossed the water at Westminster Stairs to Southwark, went through St.
+George’s Fields to the Mint, which is the dominion of the King’s {417d}
+Bench Prison, where Stratford lodges in a blind alley, and writ to me to
+come to him; but he was gone to the ’Change.  I thought he had something
+to say to me about his own affairs.  I found him at his usual
+coffee-house, and went to his own lodgings, and dined with him and his
+wife, and other company.  His business was only to desire I would
+intercede with the Ministry about his brother-in-law, Ben Burton, {417e}
+of Dublin, the banker, who is likely to come into trouble, as we hear,
+about spreading false Whiggish news.  I hate Burton, and told Stratford
+so; and I will advise the Duke of Ormond to make use of it, to keep the
+rogue in awe.  Mrs. Stratford tells me her husband’s creditors have
+consented to give him liberty to get up his debts abroad; and she hopes
+he will pay them all.  He was cheerfuller than I have seen him this great
+while.  I have walked much to-day.—Night, deelest logues.
+
+8.  This day twelvemonth Mr. Harley was stabbed; but he is ill, and takes
+physic to-day, I hear (’tis now morning), and cannot have the Cabinet
+Council with him, as he intended, nor me to say grace.  I am going to see
+him.  Pray read the Representation; ’tis the finest that ever was writ.
+Some of it is Pdfr’s style, but not very much.  This is the day of the
+Queen’s accession to the Crown; so it is a great day.  I am going to
+Court, and will dine with Lord Masham; but I must go this moment to see
+the Secretary about some businesses; so I will seal up this, and put it
+in the post my own self.  Farewell, deelest hearts and souls, MD.
+Farewell MD MD MD FW FW FW ME ME Lele Lele Lele Sollahs lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLIII. {418a}
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _March_ 8, 1711–12.
+
+I CARRIED my forty-second letter in my pocket till evening, and then put
+it in the general post.—I went in the morning to see Lord Treasurer, who
+had taken physic, and was drinking his broth.  I had been with the
+Secretary before, to recommend a friend, one Dr. Freind, {418b} to be
+Physician-General; and the Secretary promised to mention it to the Queen.
+I can serve everybody but myself.  Then I went to Court, and carried Lord
+Keeper and the Secretary to dine with Lord Masham, when we drank the
+Queen and Lord Treasurer with every health, because this was the day of
+his stabbing.—Then I went and played pools at picquet with Lady Masham
+and Mrs. Hill; won ten shillings, gave a crown to the box, and came home.
+I met at my lodgings a letter from Joe, with a bit annexed from Ppt.
+What Joe asks is entirely out of my way, and I take it for a foolish whim
+in him.  Besides, I know not who is to give a patent: if the Duke of
+Ormond, I would speak to him; and if it come in my head I will mention it
+to Ned Southwell.  They have no patents that I know of for such things
+here, but good security is all; and to think that I would speak to Lord
+Treasurer for any such matter at random is a jest.  Did I tell you of a
+race of rakes, called the Mohocks, {419a} that play the devil about this
+town every night, slit people’s noses, and beat them, etc.?  Nite,
+sollahs, and rove Pdfr.  Nite, MD.
+
+9.  I was at Court to-day, and nobody invited me to dinner, except one or
+two, whom I did not care to dine with; so I dined with Mrs. Van.  Young
+Davenant {419b} was telling us at Court how he was set upon by the
+Mohocks, and how they ran his chair through with a sword.  It is not safe
+being in the streets at night for them.  The Bishop of Salisbury’s son
+{419c} is said to be of the gang.  They are all Whigs; and a great lady
+sent to me, to speak to her father and to Lord Treasurer, to have a care
+of them, and to be careful likewise of myself; for she heard they had
+malicious intentions against the Ministers and their friends.  I know not
+whether there be anything in this, though others are of the same opinion.
+The weather still continues very fine and frosty.  I walked in the Park
+this evening, and came home early to avoid the Mohocks.  Lord Treasurer
+is better.  Nite, my own two deelest MD.
+
+10.  I went this morning again to the Lord Treasurer, who is quite
+recovered; and I stayed till he went out.  I dined with a friend in the
+City, about a little business of printing; but not my own.  You must buy
+a small twopenny pamphlet, called _Law is a Bottomless Pit_. {420a}  ’Tis
+very prettily written, and there will be a Second Part.  The Commons are
+very slow in bringing in their Bill to limit the press, and the
+pamphleteers make good use of their time; for there come out three or
+four every day.  Well, but is not it time, methinks, to have a letter
+from MD?  ’Tis now six weeks since I had your Number 26.  I can assure oo
+I expect one before this goes; and I’ll make shorter day’s journals than
+usual, ’cause I hope to fill up a good deal of t’other side with my
+answer.  Our fine weather lasts yet, but grows a little windy.  We shall
+have rain soon, I dispose.  Go to cards, sollahs, and I to seep.  Nite,
+MD.
+
+11.  Lord Treasurer has lent the long letter I writ him {420b} to Prior,
+and I can’t get Prior to return it.  I want to have it printed, and to
+make up this Academy for the improvement of our language.  Faith, we
+never shall improve it so much as FW has done; sall we?  No, faith,
+ourrichar gangridge. {420c}  I dined privately with my friend Lewis, and
+then went to see Ned Southwell, and talk with him about Walls’s business,
+and Mrs. South’s.  The latter will be done; but his own not.  Southwell
+tells me that it must be laid before Lord Treasurer, and the nature of it
+explained, and a great deal of clutter, which is not worth the while; and
+maybe Lord Treasurer won’t do it [at] last; and it is, as Walls says
+himself, not above forty shillings a year difference.  You must tell
+Walls this, unless he would have the business a secret from you: in that
+case only say I did all I could with Ned Southwell, and it can’t be done;
+for it must be laid before Lord Treasurer, etc., who will not do it; and
+besides, it is not worth troubling his lordship.  So nite, my two deelest
+nuntyes nine MD. {421a}
+
+12.  Here is the D— and all to do with these Mohocks.  Grub Street papers
+about them fly like lightning, and a list printed of near eighty put into
+several prisons, and all a lie; and I begin almost to think there is no
+truth, or very little, in the whole story.  He that abused Davenant was a
+drunken gentleman; none of that gang.  My man tells me that one of the
+lodgers heard in a coffee-house, publicly, that one design of the Mohocks
+was upon me, if they could catch me; and though I believe nothing of it,
+I forbear walking late, and they have put me to the charge of some
+shillings already.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer and two gentlemen
+of the Highlands of Scotland, yet very polite men.  I sat there till
+nine, and then went to Lord Masham’s, where Lord Treasurer followed me,
+and we sat till twelve; and I came home in a chair for fear of the
+Mohocks, and I have given him warning of it too.  Little Harrison, {421b}
+whom I sent to Holland, is now actually made Queen’s Secretary at The
+Hague.  It will be in the _Gazette_ to-morrow.  ’Tis worth twelve hundred
+pounds a year.  Here is a young fellow has writ some Sea Eclogues, poems
+of Mermen, resembling pastorals of shepherds, and they are very pretty,
+and the thought is new.  Mermen are he-mermaids; Tritons, natives of the
+sea.  Do you understand me?  I think to recommend him to our Society
+to-morrow.  His name is Diaper. {422a}  P— on him, I must do something
+for him, and get him out of the way.  I hate to have any new wits rise,
+but when they do rise I would encourage them; but they tread on our heels
+and thrust us off the stage.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+13.  You would laugh to see our printer constantly attending our Society
+after dinner, and bringing us whatever new thing he has printed, which he
+seldom fails to do.  Yet he had nothing to-day.  Lord Lansdowne, one of
+our Society, was offended at a passage in this day’s _Examiner_, which he
+thinks reflects on him, as I believe it does, though in a mighty civil
+way.  ’Tis only that his underlings cheat; but that he is a very fine
+gentleman every way, etc. {422b}  Lord Orrery was President to-day; but
+both our dukes were absent.  Brother Wyndham recommended Diaper to the
+Society.  I believe we shall make a contribution among ourselves, which I
+don’t like.  Lord Treasurer has yet done nothing for us, but we shall try
+him soon.  The company parted early, but Freind, and Prior, and I, sat a
+while longer and reformed the State, and found fault with the Ministry.
+Prior hates his Commission of the Customs, because it spoils his wit.  He
+says he dreams of nothing but cockets, {422c} and dockets, and drawbacks,
+and other jargon words of the custom-house.  Our good weather went away
+yesterday, and the nights are now dark, and I came home before ten.
+Night nown . . . deelest sollahs.
+
+14.  I have been plagued this morning with solicitors, and with nobody
+more than my brother, Dr. Freind, who must needs have to get old Dr.
+Lawrence, {422d} the Physician-General, turned out and himself in.  He
+has argued with me so long upon the reasonableness of it, that I am fully
+convinced it is very unreasonable; and so I would tell the Secretary, if
+I had not already made him speak to the Queen.  Besides, I know not but
+my friend Dr. Arbuthnot would be content to have it himself, and I love
+him ten times better than Freind.  What’s all this to you? but I must
+talk of things as they happen in the day, whether you know anything of
+them or no.  I dined in the City, and, coming back, one Parson Richardson
+{423a} of Ireland overtook me.  He was here last summer upon a project of
+converting the Irish and printing Bibles, etc., in that language, and is
+now returned to pursue it on.  He tells me Dr. Coghill {423b} came last
+night [to] town.  I will send to see how he does to-morrow.  He gave me a
+letter from Walls about his old business.  Nite, deelest MD.
+
+15.  I had intended to be early with the Secretary this morning, when my
+man admitted upstairs one Mr. Newcomb, {423c} an officer, who brought me
+a letter from the Bishop of Clogher, with four lines added by Mrs. Ashe,
+all about that Newcomb.  I think, indeed, his case is hard, but God knows
+whether I shall be able to do him any service.  People will not
+understand: I am a very good second, but I care not to begin a
+recommendation, unless it be for an intimate friend.  However, I will do
+what I can.  I missed the Secretary, and then walked to Chelsea to dine
+with the Dean of Christ Church, {423d} who was engaged to Lord Orrery
+with some other Christ Church men.  He made me go with him whether I
+would or not, for they have this long time admitted me a Christ Church
+man.  Lord Orrery, generally every winter, gives his old acquaintance of
+that college a dinner.  There were nine clergymen at table, and four
+laymen.  The Dean and I soon left them, and after a visit or two, I went
+to Lord Masham’s, and Lord Treasurer, Arbuthnot and I sat till twelve.
+And now I am come home and got to bed.  I came afoot, but had my man with
+me.  Lord Treasurer advised me not to go in a chair, because the Mohocks
+insult chairs more than they do those on foot.  They think there is some
+mischievous design in those villains.  Several of them, Lord Treasurer
+told me, are actually taken up.  I heard at dinner that one of them was
+killed last night.  We shall know more in a little time.  I don’t like
+them, as the men said. {424a}  Nite MD.
+
+16.  This morning, at the Secretary’s, I met General Ross, {424b} and
+recommended Newcomb’s case to him, who promises to join with me in
+working up the Duke of Ormond to do something for him.  Lord Winchelsea
+{424c} told me to-day at Court that two of the Mohocks caught a maid of
+old Lady Winchelsea’s, {424d} at the door of their house in the Park,
+where she was with a candle, and had just lighted out somebody.  They cut
+all her face, and beat her without any provocation.  I hear my friend
+Lewis has got a Mohock in one of the messenger’s hands.  The Queen was at
+church to-day, but was carried in an open chair.  She has got an ugly
+cough, Arbuthnot, her physician, says.  I dined with Crowe, {424e} late
+Governor of Barbados; an acquaintance of Sterne’s. {424f}  After dinner I
+asked him whether he had heard of Sterne.  “Here he is,” said he, “at the
+door in a coach:” and in came Sterne.  He has been here this week.  He is
+buying a captainship in his cousin Sterne’s {424g} regiment.  He told me
+he left Jemmy Leigh playing at cards with you.  He is to give 800 guineas
+for his commission.  I suppose you know all this better than I.  How
+shall I have room to answer oo rettle {425a} hen I get it, I have gone so
+far already?  Nite, deelest logues MD.
+
+17.  Dr. Sacheverell came this morning to give me thanks for getting his
+brother an employment.  It was but six or seven weeks since I spoke to
+Lord Treasurer for him.  Sacheverell brought Trapp {425b} along with him.
+We dined together at my printer’s, and I sat with them till seven.  I
+little thought, and I believe so did he, that ever I should be his
+solicitor to the present Ministry, when I left Ireland.  This is the
+seventh I have now provided for since I came, and can do nothing for
+myself.  I don’t care; I shall have Ministries and other people obliged
+to me.  Trapp is a coxcomb, and the t’other is not very deep; and their
+judgment in things of wit or sense is miraculous.  The Second _Part of
+Law is a Bottomless Pit_ {425c} is just now printed, and better, I think,
+than the first.  Night, my two deel saucy dallars.
+
+18.  There is a proclamation out against the Mohocks.  One of those that
+are taken is a baronet.  I dined with poor Mrs. Wesley, who is returning
+to the Bath.  Mrs. Perceval’s {425d} young daughter has got the smallpox,
+but will do well.  I walked this evening in the Park, and met Prior, who
+made me go home with him, where I stayed till past twelve, and could not
+get a coach, and was alone, and was afraid enough of the Mohocks.  I will
+do so no more, though I got home safe.  Prior and I were talking
+discontentedly of some managements, that no more people are turned out,
+which get Lord Treasurer many enemies: but whether the fault be in him,
+or the Queen, I know not; I doubt, in both.  Ung omens, it is now seven
+weeks since I received your last; but I expect one next Irish packet, to
+fill the rest of this paper; but if it don’t come, I’ll do without it: so
+I wish oo good luck at ombre with the Dean.  Nite, nuntyes nine. {425e}
+
+19.  Newcomb came to me this morning, and I went to the Duke of Ormond to
+speak for him; but the Duke was just going out to take the oaths for
+General.  The Duke of Shrewsbury is to be Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.  I
+walked with Domville and Ford to Kensington, where we dined, and it cost
+me above a crown.  I don’t like it, as the man said. {426a}  It was very
+windy walking.  I saw there Lord Masham’s children.  The youngest, my
+nephew, I fear, has got the king’s evil; the other two are daughters of
+three and four years old.  ’Twas very windy walking.  The gardens there
+are mighty fine.  I passed the evening at Lord Masham’s with Lord
+Treasurer and Arbuthnot, as usual, and we stayed till past one; but I had
+my man to come with me, and at home I found three letters; one from one
+Fetherston, a parson, with a postscript of Tisdall’s to recommend him:
+and Fetherston, whom I never saw, has been so kind to give me a letter of
+attorney to recover a debt for him.  Another from Lord Abercorn, to get
+him the dukedom of Chatelherault {426b} from the King of France; in which
+I will do what I can, for his pretensions are very just.  The third, I
+warrant you, from our MD.  ’Tis a great stir this, of getting a dukedom
+from the King of France: but it is only to speak to the Secretary, and
+get the Duke of Ormond to engage in it, and mention the case to Lord
+Treasurer, etc., and this I shall do.  Nite deelest richar MD.
+
+20.  I was with the Duke of Ormond this morning, about Lord Abercorn, Dr.
+Freind, and Newcomb.  Some will do, and some will not do; that’s wise,
+marams. {426c}  The Duke of Shrewsbury is certainly to be your Governor.
+I will go in a day or two, and give the Duchess joy, and recommend the
+Archbishop of Dublin to her.  I writ to the Archbishop, some months ago,
+that it would be so, and told him I would speak a good word for him to
+the Duchess; and he says he has a great respect for her, etc.  I made our
+Society change their house, and we met to-day at the Star and Garter in
+the Pall Mall.  Lord Arran was President.  The other dog was so
+extravagant in his bills, that for four dishes and four, first and second
+course, without wine or dessert, he charged twenty-one pounds, six
+shillings, and eightpence, to the Duke of Ormond.  We design, when all
+have been Presidents this turn, to turn it into a reckoning of so much a
+head; but we shall break up when the session ends.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+21.  Morning.  Now I will answer MD’s rettle, N. 27; you that are adding
+to your number and grumbling, had made it 26, and then altered {427a} it
+to 27.  I believe it is above a month since your last; yes, it is above
+seven weeks since I had your last: but I ought to consider that this was
+twelve days right, {427b} so that makes it pretty even.  O, the sirry
+zade, {427c} with her excuses of a fortnight at Ballygall, seeing their
+friends, and landlord running away.  O Rold, hot a cruttle {427d} and a
+bustle!—No—if you will have it—I am not Dean of Wells, {427e} nor know
+anything of being so; nor is there anything in the story; and that’s
+enough.  It was not Roper {427f} sent that news: Roper is my humble
+slave.—Yes, I heard of your resolves, and that Burton was embroiled.
+Stratford spoke to me in his behalf; but I said I hated the rascal.  Poor
+Catherine gone to Wales?  But she will come back again, I hope.  I would
+see her in my journey, if she were near the road; and bring her over.
+Joe {427g} is a fool; that sort of business is not at all in my way, pray
+put him off it.  People laugh when I mention it.  Bed ee paadon, Maram;
+I’m drad oo rike ee aplon: {428a} no harm, I hope.  And so . . . DD
+wonders she has not a letter at the day; oo’ll have it soon. . . .  The
+D— he is! married to that vengeance!  Men are not to be believed.  I
+don’t think her a fool.  Who would have her?  Dilly will be governed like
+an ass; and she will govern like a lion.  Is not that true, Ppt?  Why,
+Sterne told me he left you at ombre with Leigh; and yet you never saw
+him.  I know nothing of his wife being here: it may cost her a c— {428b}
+(I don’t care to write that word plain).  He is a little in doubt about
+buying his commission.  Yes, I will bring oo over all the little papers I
+can think on.  I thought I sent you, by Leigh, all that were good at that
+time.  The author of the _Sea Eclogues_ sent books to the Society
+yesterday, and we gave him guineas apiece; and, maybe, will do further
+from him (for him, I mean).  So the Bishop of Clogher, and lady, were
+your guests for a night or two.  Why, Ppt, you are grown a great gamester
+and company keeper.  I did say to myself, when I read those names, just
+what you guess; and you clear up the matter wonderfully.  You may
+converse with those two nymphs if you please, but the — take me if ever I
+do.  Iss, fais, it is delightful to hear that Ppt is every way Ppt now,
+in health, and looks, and all.  Pray God keep her so, many, many, many
+years.  I doubt the session will not be over till the end of April;
+however, I shall not wait for it, if the Ministry will let me go sooner.
+I wish I were just now in my garden at Laracor.  I would set out for
+Dublin early on Monday, and bring you an account of my young trees, which
+you are better acquainted with than the Ministry, and so am I.  Oh, now
+you have got Number 41, have you so?  Why, perhaps, I forgot, and kept it
+to next post in my pocket: I have done such tricks.  My cold is better,
+but not gone.  I want air and riding.  Hold ee tongue, oo Ppt, about
+colds at Moor Park! the case is quite different.  I will do what you
+desire me for Tisdall, when I next see Lord Anglesea.  Pray give him my
+service.  The weather is warm these three or four days, and rainy.  I am
+to dine to-day with Lewis and Darteneuf at Somers’s, {429a} the Clerk of
+the Kitchen at Court.  Darteneuf loves good bits and good sups.  Good
+mollows richar sollohs.—At night.  I dined, as I said; and it cost me a
+shilling for a chair.  It has rained all day, and is very warm.  Lady
+Masham’s young son, my nephew, is very ill; and she is out of mind {429b}
+with grief.  I pity her mightily.  I am got home early, and going to
+write to the Bishop of Clogher, but have no politics to send him.  Nite
+my own two deelest saucy d[ear] ones.
+
+22.  I am going into the City this morning with a friend about some
+business; so I will immediately seal up this, and keep it in my pottick
+till evening, and zen put it in the post.  The weather continues warm and
+gloomy.  I have heard no news since I went to bed, so can say no more.
+Pray send . . . that I may have time to write to . . . {429c} about it.
+I have here underneath given order for forty shillings to Mrs. Brent,
+which you will send to Parvisol.  Farewell, deelest deel MD, and rove
+Pdfr dearly dearly.  Farewell, MD, MD, FW, FW, FW, ME, ME, ME, Lele lele
+lele lele lele lele, and lele aden.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLIV. {429d}
+
+
+                                              LONDON, _March_ 22, 1711–12.
+
+UGLY, nasty weather.  I was in the City to-day with Mrs. Wesley and Mrs.
+Perceval, to get money from a banker for Mrs. Wesley, who goes to Bath on
+Thursday.  I left them there, and dined with a friend, and went to see
+Lord Treasurer; but he had people with him I did not know: so I went to
+Lady Masham’s, and lost a crown with her at picquet, and then sat with
+Lord Masham and Lord Treasurer, etc., there till past one; but I had my
+man with me, to come home.  I gave in my forty-third, and one for the
+Bishop of Clogher, to the post-office, as I came from the City; and so oo
+know ’tis late now, and I have nothing to say for this day.  Our Mohocks
+are all vanished; however, I shall take care of my person.  Nite my own
+two deelest nuntyes MD.
+
+23.  I was this morning, before church, with the Secretary, about Lord
+Abercorn’s business, and some others.  My soliciting season is come, and
+will last as long as the session.  I went late to Court, and the company
+was almost gone.  The Court serves me for a coffee-house; once a week I
+meet acquaintance there, that I should not otherwise see in a quarter.
+There is a flying report that the French have offered a cessation of
+arms, and to give us Dunkirk, and the Dutch Namur, for security, till the
+peace is made.  The Duke of Ormond, they say, goes in a week.  Abundance
+of his equipage is already gone.  His {430a} friends are afraid the
+expense of this employment will ruin him, since he must lose the
+government of Ireland.  I dined privately with a friend, and refused all
+dinners offered me at Court; which, however, were but two, and I did not
+like either.  Did I tell you of a scoundrel about the Court that sells
+employments to ignorant people, and cheats them of their money?  He
+lately made a bargain for the Vice-Chamberlain’s place, for seven
+thousand pounds, and had received some guineas earnest; but the whole
+thing was discovered t’other day, and examination taken of it by Lord
+Dartmouth, and I hope he will be swinged.  The Vice-Chamberlain told me
+several particulars of it last night at Lord Masham’s.  Can DD play at
+ombre yet, enough to hold the cards while Ppt steps into the next room?
+Nite deelest sollahs. {430b}
+
+24.  This morning I recommended Newcomb again to the Duke of Ormond, and
+left Dick Stewart {431a} to do it further.  Then I went to visit the
+Duchess of Hamilton, who was not awake.  So I went to the Duchess of
+Shrewsbury, and sat an hour at her toilet.  I talked to her about the
+Duke’s being Lord Lieutenant.  She said she knew nothing of it; but I
+rallied her out of that, and she resolves not to stay behind the Duke.  I
+intend to recommend the Bishop of Clogher to her for an acquaintance.  He
+will like her very well: she is, indeed, a most agreeable woman, and a
+great favourite of mine.  I know not whether the ladies in Ireland will
+like her.  I was at the Court of Requests, to get some lords to be at a
+committee to-morrow, about a friend’s Bill: and then the Duke of Beaufort
+gave me a poem, finely bound in folio, printed at Stamford, and writ by a
+country squire.  Lord Exeter {431b} desired the Duke to give it the
+Queen, because the author is his friend; but the Duke desired I would let
+him know whether it was good for anything.  I brought it home, and will
+return it to-morrow, as the dullest thing I ever read; and advise the
+Duke not to present it.  I dined with Domville at his lodgings, by
+invitation; for he goes in a few days for Ireland.  Nite dee MD.
+
+25.  There is a mighty feast at a Tory sheriff’s to-day in the City:
+twelve hundred dishes of meat.—Above five lords, and several hundred
+gentlemen, will be there, and give four or five guineas apiece, according
+to custom.  Dr. Coghill and I dined, by invitation, at Mrs. Van’s.  It
+has rained or mizzled all day, as my pockets feel.  There are two new
+answers come out to the _Conduct of the Allies_.  The last year’s
+_Examiners_, printed together in a small volume, go off but slowly.  The
+printer over-printed himself by at least a thousand; so soon out of
+fashion are party papers, however so well writ.  The _Medleys_ are coming
+out in the same volume, and perhaps may sell better.  Our news about a
+cessation of arms begins to flag, and I have not these three days seen
+anybody in business to ask them about it.  We had a terrible fire last
+night in Drury Lane, or thereabouts, and three or four people destroyed.
+One of the maids of honour has the smallpox; but the best is, she can
+lose no beauty; and we have one new handsome maid of honour.  Nite MD.
+
+26.  I forgot to tell you that on Sunday last, about seven at night, it
+lightened above fifty times as I walked the Mall, which I think is
+extraordinary at this time of the year, and the weather was very hot.
+Had you anything of this in Dublin?  I intended to dine with Lord
+Treasurer to-day; but Lord Mansel and Mr. Lewis made me dine with them at
+Kit Musgrave’s. {432a}  I sat the evening with Mrs. Wesley, who goes
+to-morrow morning to the Bath.  She is much better than she was.  The
+news of the French desiring a cessation of arms, etc., was but town talk.
+We shall know in a few days, as I am told, whether there will be a peace
+or not.  The Duke of Ormond will go in a week for Flanders, they say.
+Our Mohocks go on still, and cut people’s faces every night; fais, they
+shan’t cut mine, I like it better as it is.  The dogs will cost me at
+least a crown a week in chairs.  I believe the souls of your houghers of
+cattle have got into them, and now they don’t distinguish between a cow
+and a Christian.  I forgot to wish you yesterday a happy New Year.  You
+know the twenty-fifth of March is the first day of the year, and now you
+must leave off cards, and put out your fire.  I’ll put out mine the first
+of April, cold or not cold.  I believe I shall lose credit with you by
+not coming over at the beginning of April; but I hoped the session would
+be ended, and I must stay till then; yet I would fain be at the beginning
+of my willows growing.  Perceval tells me that the quicksets upon the
+flat in the garden do not grow so well as those famous ones on the ditch.
+They want digging about them.  The cherry-trees, by the river-side, my
+heart is set upon.  Nite MD.
+
+27.  Society day.  You know that, I suppose.  Dr. Arthburnett {432b} was
+President.  His dinner was dressed in the Queen’s kitchen, and was mighty
+fine.  We ate it at Ozinda’s Chocolate-house, {433a} just by St. James’s.
+We were never merrier, nor better company, and did not part till after
+eleven.  I did not summon Lord Lansdowne: he and I are fallen out.  There
+was something in an _Examiner_ a fortnight ago that he thought reflected
+on the abuses in his office (he is Secretary at War), and he writ to the
+Secretary that he heard I had inserted that paragraph.  This I resented
+highly, that he should complain of me before he spoke to me.  I sent him
+a peppering letter, and would not summon him by a note, as I did the
+rest; nor ever will have anything to say to him, till he begs my pardon.
+I met Lord Treasurer to-day at Lady Masham’s.  He would fain have carried
+me home to dinner, but I begged his pardon.  What! upon a Society day!
+No, no.  ’Tis rate, sollahs.  I an’t dlunk.  Nite MD.
+
+28.  I was with my friend Lewis to-day, getting materials for a little
+mischief; and I dined with Lord Treasurer, and three or four fellows I
+never saw before.  I left them at seven, and came home, and have been
+writing to the Archbishop of Dublin, and cousin Deane, {433b} in answer
+to one of his of four months old, that I spied by chance, routing among
+my papers.  I have a pain these two days exactly upon the top of my left
+shoulder.  I fear it is something rheumatic; it winches {433c} now and
+then.  Shall I put flannel to it?  Domville is going to Ireland; he came
+here this morning to take leave of me, but I shall dine with him
+to-morrow.  Does the Bishop of Clogher talk of coming for England this
+summer?  I think Lord Molesworth told me so about two months ago.  The
+weather is bad again; rainy and very cold this evening.  Do you know what
+the longitude is?  A projector {433d} has been applying himself to me, to
+recommend him to the Ministry, because he pretends to have found out the
+longitude.  I believe he has no more found it out than he has found out
+mine . . . {434a}  However, I will gravely hear what he says, and
+discover him a knave or fool.  Nite MD.
+
+29.  I am plagued with these pains in my shoulder; I believe it is
+rheumatic; I will do something for it to-night.  Mr. Lewis and I dined
+with Mr. Domville, to take our leave of him.  I drank three or four
+glasses of champagne by perfect teasing, though it is bad for my pain;
+but if it continue, I will not drink any wine without water till I am
+well.  The weather is abominably cold and wet.  I am got into bed, and
+have put some old flannel, for want of new, to my shoulder, and rubbed it
+with Hungary water. {434b}  It is plaguy hard.  I never would drink any
+wine, if it were not for my head, and drinking has given me this pain.  I
+will try abstemiousness for a while.  How does MD do now; how does DD and
+Ppt?  You must know I hate pain, as the old woman said.  But I’ll try to
+go seep.  My flesh sucks up Hungary water rarely.  My man is an awkward
+rascal, and makes me peevish.  Do you know that t’other day he was forced
+to beg my pardon, that he could not shave my head, his hand shook so?  He
+is drunk every day, and I design to turn him off soon as ever I get to
+Ireland.  I’ll write no more now, but go to sleep, and see whether sleep
+and flannel will cure my shoulder.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+30.  I was not able to go to church or Court to-day for my shoulder.  The
+pain has left my shoulder, and crept to my neck and collar-bone.  It
+makes me think of poo Ppt’s bladebone.  Urge, urge, urge; dogs gnawing.
+I went in a chair at two, and dined with Mrs. Van, where I could be easy,
+and came back at seven.  My Hungary water is gone; and to-night I use
+spirits of wine, which my landlady tells me is very good.  It has rained
+terribly all day long, and is extremely cold.  I am very uneasy, and such
+cruel twinges every moment!  Nite deelest MD.
+
+31.  April 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.  All these days I have been extremely
+ill, though I twice crawled out a week ago; but am now recovering, though
+very weak.  The violence of my pain abated the night before last: I will
+just tell you how I was, and then send away this letter, which ought to
+have gone Saturday last.  The pain increased with mighty violence in my
+left shoulder and collar-bone, and that side my neck.  On Thursday
+morning appeared great red spots in all those places where my pain was,
+and the violence of the pain was confined to my neck behind, a little on
+the left side; which was so violent that I had not a minute’s ease, nor
+hardly a minute’s sleep in three days and nights.  The spots increased
+every day, and bred little pimples, which are now grown white, and full
+of corruption, though small.  The red still continues too, and most
+prodigious hot and inflamed.  The disease is the shingles.  I eat nothing
+but water-gruel; am very weak; but out of all violent pain.  The doctors
+say it would have ended in some violent disease if it had not come out
+thus.  I shall now recover fast.  I have been in no danger of life, but
+miserable torture.  I must not write too much.  So adieu, deelest MD MD
+MD FW FW, ME ME ME, Lele.  I can say lele yet, oo see.  Fais, I don’t
+conceal a bit, as hope saved. {435a}
+
+I {435b} must purge and clyster after this; and my next letter will not
+be in the old order of journal, till I have done with physic.  An’t oo
+surprised to see a letter want half a side?
+
+
+
+LETTER XLV. {436a}
+
+
+                                                 LONDON, _April_ 24, 1712.
+
+I HAD your twenty-eighth two or three days ago.  I can hardly answer it
+now.  Since my last I have been extremely ill.  ’Tis this day just a
+month since I felt a small pain on the tip of my left shoulder, which
+grew worse, and spread for six days; then broke all out by my collar and
+left side of my neck in monstrous red spots inflamed, and these grew to
+small pimples.  For four days I had no rest, nor nights, for a pain in my
+neck; then I grew a little better; afterward, where my pains were, a
+cruel itching seized me, beyond whatever I could imagine, and kept me
+awake several nights.  I rubbed it vehemently, but did not scratch it:
+then it grew into three or four great sores like blisters, and run; at
+last I advised the doctor to use it like a blister, so I did with melilot
+{436b} plasters, which still run: and am now in pain enough, but am daily
+mending.  I kept my chamber a fortnight, then went out a day or two, but
+then confined myself again.  Two days ago I went to a neighbour to dine,
+but yesterday again kept at home.  To-day I will venture abroad a little,
+and hope to be well in a week or ten days.  I never suffered so much in
+my life.  I have taken my breeches in above two inches, so I am leaner,
+which answers one question in your letter.  The weather is mighty fine.
+I write in the morning, because I am better then.  I will go and try to
+walk a little.  I will give DD’s certificate to Tooke to-morrow.
+Farewell, MD MD MD, ME ME, FW FW ME ME.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLVI. {437a}
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _May_ 10, 1712.
+
+I HAVE not yet ease or humour enough to go on in my journal method,
+though I have left my chamber these ten days.  My pain continues still in
+my shoulder and collar: I keep flannel on it, and rub it with brandy, and
+take a nasty diet drink.  I still itch terribly, and have some few
+pimples; I am weak, and sweat; and then the flannel makes me mad with
+itching; but I think my pain lessens.  A journal, while I was sick, would
+have been a noble thing, made up of pain and physic, visits, and
+messages; the two last were almost as troublesome as the two first.  One
+good circumstance is that I am grown much leaner.  I believe I told you
+that I have taken in my breeches two inches.  I had your N. 29 last
+night.  In answer to your good opinion of my disease, the doctors said
+they never saw anything so odd of the kind; they were not properly
+shingles, but _herpes miliaris_, and twenty other hard names.  I can
+never be sick like other people, but always something out of the common
+way; and as for your notion of its coming without pain, it neither came,
+nor stayed, nor went without pain, and the most pain I ever bore in my
+life.  Medemeris {437b} is retired in the country, with the beast her
+husband, long ago.  I thank the Bishop of Clogher for his proxy; I will
+write to him soon.  Here is Dilly’s wife in town; but I have not seen her
+yet.  No, sinkerton: {437c} ’tis not a sign of health, but a sign that,
+if it had not come out, some terrible fit of sickness would have
+followed.  I was at our Society last Thursday, to receive a new member,
+the Chancellor of the Exchequer; {437d} but I drink nothing above wine
+and water.  We shall have a peace, I hope, soon, or at least entirely
+broke; but I believe the first.  My _Letter to Lord Treasurer_, about the
+English tongue, {437e} is now printing; and I suffer my name to be put at
+the end of it, which I never did before in my life.  _The Appendix to the
+Third Part of John Bull_ {438a} was published yesterday; it is equal to
+the rest.  I hope you read _John Bull_.  It was a Scotch gentleman,
+{438b} a friend of mine, that writ it; but they put it upon me.  The
+Parliament will hardly be up till June.  We were like to be undone some
+days ago with a tack; but we carried it bravely, and the Whigs came in to
+help us.  Poor Lady Masham, I am afraid, will lose her only son, about a
+twelvemonth old, with the king’s evil.  I never would let Mrs. Fenton see
+me during my illness, though she often came; but she has been once here
+since I recovered.  Bernage has been twice to see me of late.  His
+regiment will be broke, and he only upon half-pay; so perhaps he thinks
+he will want me again.  I am told here the Bishop of Clogher and family
+are coming over, but he says nothing of it himself.  I have been
+returning the visits of those that sent howdees {438c} in my sickness;
+particularly the Duchess of Hamilton, who came and sat with me two hours.
+I make bargains with all people that I dine with, to let me scrub my back
+against a chair; and the Duchess of Ormond {438d} was forced to bear it
+the other day.  Many of my friends are gone to Kensington, where the
+Queen has been removed for some time.  This is a long letter for a kick
+{438e} body.  I will begin the next in the journal way, though my
+journals will be sorry ones.  My left hand is very weak, and trembles;
+but my right side has not been touched.
+
+   This is a pitiful letter
+   For want of a better;
+   But plagued with a tetter,
+   My fancy does fetter.
+
+Ah! my poor willows and quicksets!  Well, but you must read _John Bull_.
+Do you understand it all?  Did I tell you that young Parson Gery {439a}
+is going to be married, and asked my advice when it was too late to break
+off?  He tells me Elwick has purchased forty pounds a year in land
+adjoining to his living.  Ppt does not say one word of her own little
+health.  I am angry almost; but I won’t, ’cause see im a dood dallar in
+odle sings; {439b} iss, and so im DD too.  God bless MD, and FW, and ME,
+ay and Pdfr too.  Farewell, MD, MD, MD, FW, FW, FW.  ME, ME Lele.  I can
+say lele it, ung oomens, iss I tan, well as oo.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLVII. {439c}
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _May_ 31, 1712.
+
+I CANNOT yet arrive to my journal letters, my pains continuing still,
+though with less violence; but I don’t love to write journals while I am
+in pain; and above all, not journals to MD.  But, however, I am so much
+mended, that I intend my next shall be in the old way; and yet I shall,
+perhaps, break my resolution when I feel pain.  I believe I have lost
+credit with you, in relation to my coming over; but I protest it is
+impossible for one who has anything to do with this Ministry to be
+certain when he fixes any time.  There is a business which, till it take
+some turn or other, I cannot leave this place in prudence or honour.  And
+I never wished so much as now that I had stayed in Ireland; but the die
+is cast, and is now a spinning, and till it settles, I cannot tell
+whether it be an ace or a sise. {439d}  I am confident by what you know
+yourselves, that you will justify me in all this.  The moment I am used
+ill, I will leave them; but know not how to do it while things are in
+suspense. The session will soon be over (I believe in a fortnight), and
+the peace, we hope, will be made in a short time; and there will be no
+further occasion for me; nor have I anything to trust to but Court
+gratitude, so that I expect to see my willows {440a} a month after the
+Parliament is up: but I will take MD in my way, and not go to Laracor
+like an unmannerly spraenekich ferrow. {440b}  Have you seen my _Letter
+to Lord Treasurer_?  There are two answers come out to it already; {440c}
+though it is no politics, but a harmless proposal about the improvement
+of the English Tongue.  I believe if I writ an essay upon a straw some
+fool would answer it.  About ten days hence I expect a letter from MD; N.
+30.—You are now writing it, near the end, as I guess.—I have not received
+DD’s money; but I will give you a note for it on Parvisol, and bed oo
+paadon {440d} I have not done it before.  I am just now thinking to go
+lodge at Kensington for the air.  Lady Masham has teased me to do it, but
+business has hindered me; but now Lord Treasurer has removed thither.
+Fifteen of our Society dined together under a canopy in an arbour at
+Parson’s Green {440e} last Thursday: I never saw anything so fine and
+romantic.  We got a great victory last Wednesday in the House of Lords by
+a majority, I think, of twenty-eight; and the Whigs had desired their
+friends to bespeak places to see Lord Treasurer carried to the Tower.
+{440f}  I met your Higgins {440g} here yesterday: he roars at the
+insolence of the Whigs in Ireland, talks much of his own sufferings and
+expenses in asserting the cause of the Church; and I find he would fain
+plead merit enough to desire that his fortune should be mended.  I
+believe he designs to make as much noise as he can in order to
+preferment.  Pray let the Provost, when he sees you, give you ten English
+shillings, and I will give as much here to the man who delivered me
+Rymer’s books: {441a} he knows the meaning.  Tell him I will not trust
+him, but that you can order it to be paid me here; and I will trust you
+till I see you.  Have I told you that the rogue Patrick has left me these
+two months, to my great satisfaction?  I have got another, who seems to
+be much better, if he continues it.  I am printing a threepenny pamphlet,
+{441b} and shall print another in a fortnight, and then I have done,
+unless some new occasion starts.  Is my curate Warburton married to Mrs.
+Melthrop in my parish? so I hear.  Or is it a lie?  Has Raymond got to
+his new house?  Do you see Joe now and then?  What luck have you at
+ombre?  How stands it with the Dean? . . . {441c}  My service to Mrs.
+Stoyte, and Catherine, if she be come from Wales.  I have not yet seen
+Dilly Ashe’s wife.  I called once, but she was not at home: I think she
+is under the doctor’s hand. . . . {441d}  I believe the news of the Duke
+of Ormond producing letters in the council of war, with orders not to
+fight, will surprise you in Ireland.  Lord Treasurer said in the House of
+Lords that in a few days the treaty of peace should be laid before them;
+and our Court thought it wrong to hazard a battle, and sacrifice many
+lives in such a juncture.  If the peace holds, all will do well,
+otherwise I know not how we shall weather it.  And it was reckoned as a
+wrong step in politics for Lord Treasurer to open himself so much.  The
+Secretary would not go so far to satisfy the Whigs in the House of
+Commons; but there all went swimmingly.  I’ll say no more to oo to-nite,
+sellohs, because I must send away the letter, not by the bell, {441e} but
+early: and besides, I have not much more to say at zis plesent liting.
+{442a}  Does MD never read at all now, pee? {442b}  But oo walk
+plodigiousry, I suppose; oo make nothing of walking to, to, to, ay, to
+Donnybrook.  I walk too as much as I can, because sweating is good; but
+I’ll walk more if I go to Kensington.  I suppose I shall have no apples
+this year neither, for I dined t’other day with Lord Rivers, who is sick
+at his country-house, and he showed me all his cherries blasted.  Nite
+deelest sollahs; farewell deelest rives; rove poo poo Pdfr.  Farewell
+deelest richar MD, MD, MD, FW, FW, FW, FW, FW, ME, ME, Lele, ME, Lele,
+Lele, richar MD.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLVIII. {442c}
+
+
+                                              KENSINGTON, _June_ 17, 1712.
+
+I HAVE been so tosticated about since my last, that I could not go on in
+my journal manner, though my shoulder is a great deal better; however, I
+feel constant pain in it, but I think it diminishes, and I have cut off
+some slices from my flannel.  I have lodged here near a fortnight, partly
+for the air and exercise, partly to be near the Court, where dinners are
+to be found.  I generally get a lift in a coach to town, and in the
+evening I walk back.  On Saturday I dined with the Duchess of Ormond at
+her lodge near Sheen, and thought to get a boat back as usual.  I walked
+by the bank to Cue [Kew], but no boat, then to Mortlake, but no boat, and
+it was nine o’clock.  At last a little sculler called, full of nasty
+people.  I made him set me down at Hammersmith, so walked two miles to
+this place, and got here by eleven.  Last night I had another such
+difficulty.  I was in the City till past ten at night; it rained hard,
+but no coach to be had.  It gave over a little, and I walked all the way
+here, and got home by twelve.  I love these shabby difficulties when they
+are over; but I hate them, because they arise from not having a thousand
+pound a year.  I had your N. 30 about three days ago, which I will now
+answer.  And first, I did not relapse, but found {443a} I came out before
+I ought; and so, and so, as I have told you in some of my last.  The
+first coming abroad made people think I was quite recovered, and I had no
+more messages afterwards.  Well, but _John Bull_ is not writ by the
+person you imagine, as hope! {443b}  It is too good for another to own.
+Had it been Grub Street, I would have let people think as they please;
+and I think that’s right: is not it now? so flap ee hand, and make wry
+mouth oo-self, sauci doxi.  Now comes DD.  Why sollah, I did write in a
+fortnight my 47th; and if it did not come in due time, can I help wind
+and weather? am I a Laplander? am I a witch? can I work miracles? can I
+make easterly winds?  Now I am against Dr. Smith.  I drink little water
+with my wine, yet I believe he is right.  Yet Dr. Cockburn told me a
+little wine would not hurt me; but it is so hot and dry, and water is so
+dangerous.  The worst thing here is my evenings at Lord Masham’s, where
+Lord Treasurer comes, and we sit till after twelve.  But it is convenient
+I should be among them for a while as much as possible.  I need not tell
+oo why.  But I hope that will be at an end in a month or two, one way or
+other, and I am resolved it shall.  But I can’t go to Tunbridge, or
+anywhere else out of the way, in this juncture.  So Ppt designs for
+Templeoag (what a name is that!).  Whereabouts is that place?  I hope not
+very far from Dublin.  Higgins is here, roaring that all is wrong in
+Ireland, and would have me get him an audience of Lord Treasurer to tell
+him so; but I will have nothing to do in it, no, not I, faith.  We have
+had no thunder till last night, and till then we were dead for want of
+rain; but there fell a great deal: no field looked green.  I reckon the
+Queen will go to Windsor in three or four weeks: and if the Secretary
+takes a house there, I shall be sometimes with him.  But how affectedly
+Ppt talks of my being here all the summer; which I do not intend: nor to
+stay one minute longer in England than becomes the circumstances I am in.
+I wish you would go soon into the country, and take a good deal of it;
+and where better than Trim?  Joe will be your humble servant, Parvisol
+your slave, and Raymond at your command, for he piques himself on good
+manners.  I have seen Dilly’s wife—and I have seen once or twice old
+Bradley {444a} here.  He is very well, very old, and very wise: I believe
+I must go see his wife, when I have leisure.  I should be glad to see
+Goody Stoyte and her husband; pray give them my humble service, and to
+Catherine, and to Mrs. Walls—I am not the least bit in love with Mrs.
+Walls—I suppose the cares of the husband increase with the fruitfulness
+of the wife.  I am grad at halt {444b} to hear of Ppt’s good health: pray
+let her finish it by drinking waters.  I hope DD had her bill, and has
+her money.  Remember to write a due time before ME money is wanted, and
+be good galls, dood dallars, I mean, and no crying dallars.  I heard
+somebody coming upstairs, and forgot I was in the country; and I was
+afraid of a visitor: that is one advantage of being here, that I am not
+teased with solicitors.  Molt, the chemist, is my acquaintance.  My
+service to Dr. Smith.  I sent the question to him about Sir Walter
+Raleigh’s cordial, and the answer he returned is in these words: “It is
+directly after Mr. Boyle’s receipt.”  That commission is performed; if he
+wants any of it, Molt shall use him fairly.  I suppose Smith is one of
+your physicians.  So, now your letter is fully and impartially answered;
+not as rascals answer me: I believe, if I writ an essay upon a straw, I
+should have a shoal of answerers: but no matter for that; you see I can
+answer without making any reflections, as becomes men of learning.  Well,
+but now for the peace: why, we expect it daily; but the French have the
+staff in their own hands, and we trust to their honesty.  I wish it were
+otherwise.  Things are now in the way of being soon in the extremes of
+well or ill.  I hope and believe the first.  Lord Wharton is gone out of
+town in a rage, and curses himself and friends for ruining themselves in
+defending Lord Marlborough and Godolphin, and taking Nottingham into
+their favour.  He swears he will meddle no more during this reign; a
+pretty speech at sixty-six, and the Queen is near twenty years younger,
+and now in very good health; for you must know her health is fixed by a
+certain reason, that she has done with braces (I must use the
+expression), and nothing ill is happened to her since; so she has a new
+lease of her life.  Read the _Letter to a Whig Lord_. {445a}  Do you ever
+read?  Why don’t you say so?  I mean does DD read to Ppt?  Do you walk?
+I think Ppt should walk to {445b} DD; as DD reads to Ppt, for Ppt oo must
+know is a good walker; but not so good as Pdfr.  I intend to dine to-day
+with Mr. Lewis, but it threatens rain; and I shall be too late to get a
+lift; and I must write to the Bishop of Clogher.  ’Tis now ten in the
+morning; and this is all writ at a heat.  Farewell deelest . . . deelest
+MD, MD, MD, MD, MD, FW, FW, FW, ME, ME, ME, Lele, ME, Lele, ME, Lele, ME,
+Lele, Lele, Lele, ME.
+
+
+
+LETTER XLIX. {445c}
+
+
+                                               KENSINGTON, _July_ 1, 1712.
+
+I NEVER was in a worse station for writing letters than this, especially
+for writing to MD, since I left off my journals.  For I go to town early;
+and when I come home at night, I generally go to Lord Masham, where Lord
+Treasurer comes, and we stay till past twelve.  But I am now resolved to
+write journals again, though my shoulder is not yet well; for I have
+still a few itching pimples, and a little pain now and then.  It is now
+high cherry-time with us; take notice, is it so soon with you?  And we
+have early apricots, and gooseberries are ripe.  On Sunday Archdeacon
+Parnell came here to see me.  It seems he has been ill for grief of his
+wife’s death, {445d} and has been two months at the Bath.  He has a mind
+to go to Dunkirk with Jack Hill, {446a} and I persuade him to it, and
+have spoke to Hill to receive him; but I doubt he won’t have spirit to
+go.  I have made Ford {446b} Gazetteer, and got two hundred pounds a year
+settled on the employment by the Secretary of State, beside the
+perquisites.  It is the prettiest employment in England of its bigness;
+yet the puppy does not seem satisfied with it.  I think people keep some
+follies to themselves, till they have occasion to produce them.  He
+thinks it not genteel enough, and makes twenty difficulties.  ’Tis
+impossible to make any man easy.  His salary is paid him every week, if
+he pleases, without taxes or abatements.  He has little to do for it.  He
+has a pretty office, with coals, candles, papers, etc.; can frank what
+letters he will; and his perquisites, if he takes care, may be worth one
+hundred pounds more.  I hear the Bishop of Clogher is landing, or landed,
+in England; and I hope to see him in a few days.  I was to see Mrs.
+Bradley {446c} on Sunday night.  Her youngest son is married to somebody
+worth nothing, and her daughter was forced to leave Lady Giffard, because
+she was striking up an intrigue with a footman, who played well upon the
+flute.  This is the mother’s account of it.  Yesterday the old Bishop of
+Worcester, {446d} who pretends to be a prophet, went to the Queen, by
+appointment, to prove to Her Majesty, out of Daniel and the Revelations,
+that four years hence there would be a war of religion; that the King of
+France would be a Protestant, and fight on their side; that the Popedom
+would be destroyed, etc.; and declared that he would be content to give
+up his bishopric if it were not true.  Lord Treasurer, who told it me,
+was by, and some others; and I am told Lord Treasurer confounded him
+sadly in his own learning, which made the old fool very quarrelsome.  He
+is near ninety years old.  Old Bradley is fat and lusty, and has lost his
+palsy.  Have you seen _Toland’s Invitation to Dismal_? {447a}  How do you
+like it?  But it is an imitation of Horace, and perhaps you don’t
+understand Horace.  Here has been a great sweep of employments, and we
+expect still more removals.  The Court seems resolved to make thorough
+work.  Mr. Hill intended to set out to-morrow for Dunkirk, of which he is
+appointed Governor; but he tells me to-day that he cannot go till
+Thursday or Friday.  I wish it were over.  Mr. Secretary tells me he is
+[in] no fear at all that France will play tricks with us.  If we have
+Dunkirk once, all is safe.  We rail now all against the Dutch, who,
+indeed, have acted like knaves, fools, and madmen.  Mr. Secretary is soon
+to be made a viscount.  He desired I would draw the preamble of his
+patent; but I excused myself from a work that might lose me a great deal
+of reputation, and get me very little.  We would fain have the Court make
+him an earl, but it would not be; and therefore he will not take the
+title of Bullenbrook, {447b} which is lately extinct in the elder branch
+of his family.  I have advised him to be called Lord Pomfret; but he
+thinks that title is already in some other family; {447c} and, besides,
+he objects that it is in Yorkshire, where he has no estate; but there is
+nothing in that, and I love Pomfret.  Don’t you love Pomfret?  Why?  ’Tis
+in all our histories; they are full of Pomfret Castle.  But what’s all
+this to you?  You don’t care for this.  Is Goody Stoyte come to London?
+I have not heard of her yet.  The Dean of St. Patrick’s never had the
+manners to answer my letter.  I was t’other day to see Sterne {447d} and
+his wife.  She is not half so handsome as when I saw her with you at
+Dublin.  They design to pass the summer at a house near Lord Somers’s,
+about a dozen miles off.  You never told me how my _Letter to Lord
+Treasurer_ passes in Ireland.  I suppose you are drinking at this time
+Temple-something’s {448a} waters.  Steele was arrested the other day for
+making a lottery directly against an Act of Parliament.  He is now under
+prosecution; but they think it will be dropped out of pity. {448b}  I
+believe he will very soon lose his employment, for he has been mighty
+impertinent of late in his _Spectators_; and I will never offer a word in
+his behalf.  Raymond writes me word that the Bishop of Meath {448c} was
+going to summon me, in order to suspension, for absence, if the Provost
+had not prevented him.  I am prettily rewarded for getting them their
+First-Fruits, with a p—.  We have had very little hot weather during the
+whole month of June; and for a week past we have had a great deal of
+rain, though not every day.  I am just now told that the Governor of
+Dunkirk has not orders yet to deliver up the town to Jack Hill and his
+forces, but expects them daily.  This must put off Hill’s journey a
+while, and I don’t like these stoppings in such an affair.  Go, get oo
+gone, and drink oo waters, if this rain has not spoiled them, sauci doxi.
+I have no more to say to oo at plesent; but rove Pdfr, and MD, and ME.
+And Podefr will rove Pdfr, and MD and ME.  I wish you had taken any
+account when I sent money to Mrs. Brent.  I believe I han’t done it a
+great while.  And pray send me notice when ME . . . to have it when it is
+due. {448d}  Farewell, dearest MD FW FW FW ME ME ME.
+
+
+
+LETTER L. {449a}
+
+
+                                              KENSINGTON, _July_ 17, 1712.
+
+I AM weary of living in this place, and glad to leave it soon.  The Queen
+goes on Tuesday to Windsor, and I shall follow in three or four days
+after.  I can do nothing here, going early to London, and coming late
+from it, and supping at Lady Masham’s.  I dined to-day with the Duke of
+Argyle at Cue [Kew], and would not go to the Court to-night, because of
+writing to MD.  The Bishop of Clogher has been here this fortnight: I see
+him as often as I can.  Poor Master Ashe has a sad redness in his face;
+it is St. Anthony’s fire; his face all swelled, and will break in his
+cheek, but no danger.  Since Dunkirk has been in our hands, Grub Street
+has been very fruitful.  Pdfr has writ five or six Grub Street papers
+this last week.  Have you seen _Toland’s Invitation to Dismal_, _or Hue
+and Cry after Dismal_, _or Ballad on Dunkirk_, _or Argument that Dunkirk
+is not in our Hands_?  Poh! you have seen nothing.  I am dead here with
+the hot weather; yet I walk every night home, and believe it does me
+good: but my shoulder is not yet right; itchings, and scratchings, and
+small achings.  Did I tell you I had made Ford Gazetteer, with two
+hundred pounds a year salary, beside perquisites?  I had a letter lately
+from Parvisol, who says my canal looks very finely; I long to see it; but
+no apples; all blasted again.  He tells me there will be a triennial
+visitation in August.  I must send Raymond another proxy.  So now I will
+answer oo rettle N. 33, {449b} dated June 17.  Ppt writes as well as
+ever, for all her waters.  I wish I had never come here, as often and as
+heartily as Ppt.  What had I to do here?  I have heard of the Bishop’s
+making me uneasy, but I did not think it was because I never writ to him.
+A little would make me write to him, but I don’t know what to say.  I
+find I am obliged to the Provost for keeping the Bishop {450a} from being
+impertinent.  Yes, Maram DD, but oo would not be content with letters
+flom Pdfr of six lines, or twelve either, fais.  I hope Ppt will have
+done with the waters soon, and find benefit by them.  I believe, if they
+were as far off as Wexford, they would do as much good; for I take the
+journey to contribute as much as anything.  I can assure you the Bishop
+of Clogher’s being here does not in the least affect my staying or going.
+I never talked to Higgins but once in my life in the street, and I
+believe he and I shall hardly meet but by chance.  What care I whether my
+_Letter to Lord Treasurer_ be commended there or no?  Why does not
+somebody among you answer it, as three or four have done here?  (I am now
+sitting with nothing but my nightgown, for heat.)  Ppt shall have a great
+Bible.  I have put it down in my memlandums {450b} just now.  And DD
+shall be repaid her t’other book; but patience, all in good time: you are
+so hasty, a dog would, etc.  So Ppt has neither won nor lost.  Why, mun,
+I play sometimes too at picket, that is picquet, I mean; but very
+seldom.—Out late? why, ’tis only at Lady Masham’s, and that is in our
+town; but I never come late here from London, except once in rain, when I
+could not get a coach.  We have had very little thunder here; none these
+two months.  Why, pray, madam philosopher, how did the rain hinder the
+thunder from doing any harm?  I suppose it ssquenched it.  So here comes
+Ppt aden {450c} with her little watery postscript.  O Rold, dlunken srut!
+{450d} drink Pdfr’s health ten times in a morning! you are a whetter,
+fais; I sup MD’s fifteen times evly molning in milk porridge.  Lele’s fol
+oo now—and lele’s fol oo rettle, and evly kind of sing {450e}—and now I
+must say something else.  You hear Secretary St. John is made Viscount
+Bullinbrook. {450f}  I can hardly persuade him to take that title,
+because the eldest branch of his family had it in an earldom, and it was
+last year extinct.  If he did not take it, I advised him to be Lord
+Pomfret, which I think is a noble title.  You hear of it often in the
+_Chronicles_, Pomfret Castle: but we believed it was among the titles of
+some other lord.  Jack Hill sent his sister a pattern of a head-dress
+from Dunkirk; it was like our fashion twenty years ago, only not quite so
+high, and looked very ugly.  I have made Trapp {451a} chaplain to Lord
+Bullinbroke, and he is mighty happy and thankful for it.  Mr. Addison
+returned me my visit this morning.  He lives in our town.  I shall be
+mighty retired, and mighty busy for a while at Windsor.  Pray why don’t
+MD go to Trim, and see Laracor, and give me an account of the garden, and
+the river, and the holly and the cherry-trees on the river-walk?
+
+19.  I could not send this letter last post, being called away before I
+could fold or finish it.  I dined yesterday with Lord Treasurer; sat with
+him till ten at night; yet could not find a minute for some business I
+had with him.  He brought me to Kensington, and Lord Bulingbrook would
+not let me go away till two; and I am now in bed, very lazy and sleepy at
+nine.  I must shave head and face, and meet Lord Bullinbrook at eleven,
+and dine again with Lord Treasurer.  To-day there will be another Grub,
+{451b} _A Letter from the Pretender to a Whig Lord_.  Grub Street has but
+ten days to live; then an Act of Parliament takes place that ruins it, by
+taxing every half-sheet at a halfpenny.  We have news just come, but not
+the particulars, that the Earl of Albemarle, {451c} at the head of eight
+thousand Dutch, is beaten, lost the greatest part of his men, and himself
+a prisoner.  This perhaps may cool their courage, and make them think of
+a peace.  The Duke of Ormond has got abundance of credit by his good
+conduct of affairs in Flanders.  We had a good deal of rain last night,
+very refreshing.  ’Tis late, and I must rise.  Don’t play at ombre in
+your waters, sollah.  Farewell, deelest MD, MD MD MD FW FW ME ME ME Lele
+Lele Lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LI. {452a}
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Aug._ 7, 1712.
+
+I HAD your N. 32 at Windsor: I just read it, and immediately sealed it up
+again, and shall read it no more this twelvemonth at least.  The reason
+of my resentment at it is, because you talk as glibly of a thing as if it
+were done, which, for aught I know, is farther from being done than ever,
+since I hear not a word of it, though the town is full of it, and the
+Court always giving me joy and vexation.  You might be sure I would have
+let you know as soon as it was done; but I believe you fancied I would
+affect not to tell it you, but let you learn it from newspapers and
+reports.  I remember only there was something in your letter about ME’s
+money, and that shall be taken care of on the other side.  I left Windsor
+on Monday last, upon Lord Bolingbroke’s being gone to France, and
+somebody’s being here that I ought often to consult with in an affair I
+am upon: but that person talks of returning to Windsor again, and I
+believe I shall follow him.  I am now in a hedge-lodging very busy, as I
+am every day till noon: so that this letter is like to be short, and you
+are not to blame me these two months; for I protest, if I study ever so
+hard, I cannot in that time compass what I am upon.  We have a fever both
+here and at Windsor, which hardly anybody misses; but it lasts not above
+three or four days, and kills nobody. {452b}  The Queen has forty
+servants down of it at once.  I dined yesterday with Treasurer, but could
+do no business, though he sent for me, I thought, on purpose; but he
+desires I will dine with him again to-day.  Windsor is a most delightful
+place, and at this time abounds in dinners.  My lodgings there look upon
+Eton and the Thames.  I wish I was owner of them; they belong to a
+prebend.  God knows what was in your letter; and if it be not answered,
+whose fault is it, sauci dallars?—Do you know that Grub Street is dead
+and gone last week?  No more ghosts or murders now for love or money.  I
+plied it pretty close the last fortnight, and published at least seven
+penny papers of my own, besides some of other people’s: but now every
+single half-sheet pays a halfpenny to the Queen. {453a}  The _Observator_
+is fallen; the _Medleys_ are jumbled together with the _Flying Post_; the
+_Examiner_ is deadly sick; the _Spectator_ keeps up, and doubles its
+price; I know not how long it will hold.  Have you seen the red stamp the
+papers are marked with?  Methinks it is worth a halfpenny, the stamping
+it.  Lord Bolingbroke and Prior set out for France last Saturday.  My
+lord’s business is to hasten the peace before the Dutch are too much
+mauled, and hinder France from carrying the jest of beating them too far.
+Have you seen the Fourth Part of _John Bull_? {453b}  It is equal to the
+rest, and extremely good.  The Bishop of Clogher’s son has been ill of
+St. Anthony’s fire, but is now quite well.  I was afraid his face would
+be spoiled, but it is not.  Dilly is just as he used to be, and puns as
+plentifully and as bad.  The two brothers see one another; but I think
+not the two sisters.  Raymond writ to me that he intended to invite you
+to Trim.  Are you, have you, will you be there?  Won’t oo see pool
+Laratol? {453c}  Parvisol says I shall have no fruit.  Blasts have taken
+away all.  Pray observe the cherry-trees on the river-walk; but oo are
+too lazy to take such a journey.  If you have not your letters in due
+time for two months hence, impute it to my being tosticated between this
+and Windsor.  And pray send me again the state of ME’s money; for I will
+not look into your letter for it.  Poor Lord Winchelsea {454a} is dead,
+to my great grief.  He was a worthy honest gentleman, and particular
+friend of mine: and, what is yet worse, my old acquaintance, Mrs. Finch,
+{454b} is now Countess of Winchelsea, the title being fallen to her
+husband, but without much estate.  I have been poring my eyes all this
+morning, and it is now past two afternoon, so I shall take a little walk
+in the Park.  Do you play at ombre still?  Or is that off by Mr. Stoyte’s
+absence, and Mrs. Manley’s grief?  Somebody was telling me of a strange
+sister that Mrs. Manley has got in Ireland, who disappointed you all
+about her being handsome.  My service to Mrs. Walls.  Farewell, deelest
+MD MD MD, FW FW FW, ME ME ME ME ME.  Lele, logues both; rove poo Pdfr.
+
+
+
+LETTER LII. {454c}
+
+
+                                                WINDSOR, _Sept._ 15, 1712.
+
+I NEVER was so long without writing to MD as now, since I left them, nor
+ever will again while I am able to write.  I have expected from one week
+to another that something would be done in my own affairs; but nothing at
+all is, nor I don’t know when anything will, or whether ever at all, so
+slow are people at doing favours.  I have been much out of order of late
+with the old giddiness in my head.  I took a vomit for it two days ago,
+and will take another about a day or two hence.  I have eat mighty little
+fruit; yet I impute my disorder to that little, and shall henceforth
+wholly forbear it.  I am engaged in a long work, and have done all I can
+of it, and wait for some papers from the Ministry for materials for the
+rest; and they delay me, as if it were a favour I asked of them; so that
+I have been idle here this good while, and it happened in a right time,
+when I was too much out of order to study.  One is kept constantly out of
+humour by a thousand unaccountable things in public proceedings; and when
+I reason with some friends, we cannot conceive how affairs can last as
+they are.  God only knows, but it is a very melancholy subject for those
+who have any near concern in it.  I am again endeavouring, as I was last
+year, to keep people {455a} from breaking to pieces upon a hundred
+misunderstandings.  One cannot withhold them from drawing different ways,
+while the enemy is watching to destroy both.  See how my style is
+altered, by living and thinking and talking among these people, instead
+of my canal and river-walk and willows.  I lose all my money here among
+the ladies; {455b} so that I never play when I can help it, being sure to
+lose.  I have lost five pounds the five weeks I have been here.  I hope
+Ppt is luckier at picquet with the Dean and Mrs. Walls.  The Dean never
+answered my letter, though.  I have clearly forgot whether I sent a bill
+for ME in any of my last letters.  I think I did; pray let me know, and
+always give me timely notice.  I wait here but to see what they will do
+for me; and whenever preferments are given from me, as hope saved, I will
+come over.
+
+18.  I have taken a vomit to-day, and hope I shall be better.  I have
+been very giddy since I writ what is before, yet not as I used to be:
+more frequent, but not so violent.  Yesterday we were alarmed with the
+Queen’s being ill: she had an aguish and feverish fit; and you never saw
+such countenances as we all had, such dismal melancholy.  Her physicians
+from town were sent for, but towards night she grew better; to-day she
+missed her fit, and was up: we are not now in any fear; it will be at
+worst but an ague, and we hope even that will not return.  Lord Treasurer
+would not come here from London, because it would make a noise if he came
+before his usual time, which is Saturday, and he goes away on Mondays.
+The Whigs have lost a great support in the Earl of Godolphin. {456a}  It
+is a good jest to hear the Ministers talk of him now with humanity and
+pity, because he is dead, and can do them no more hurt.  Lady Orkney,
+{456b} the late King’s mistress (who lives at a fine place, five miles
+from hence, called Cliffden {456c}), and I, are grown mighty
+acquaintance.  She is the wisest woman I ever saw; and Lord Treasurer
+made great use of her advice in the late change of affairs.  I heard Lord
+Marlborough is growing ill of his diabetes; which, if it be true, may
+soon carry him off; and then the Ministry will be something more at ease.
+MD has been a long time without writing to Pdfr, though they have not the
+same cause: it is seven weeks since your last came to my hands, which was
+N. 32, that you may not be mistaken.  I hope Ppt has not wanted her
+health.  You were then drinking waters.  The doctor tells me I must go
+into a course of steel, though I have not the spleen; for that they can
+never give me, though I have as much provocation to it as any man alive.
+Bernage’s {456d} regiment is broke; but he is upon half-pay.  I have not
+seen him this long time; but I suppose he is overrun with melancholy.  My
+Lord Shrewsbury is certainly designed to be Governor of Ireland; and I
+believe the Duchess will please the people there mightily.  The Irish
+Whig leaders promise great things to themselves from his government; but
+care shall be taken, if possible, to prevent them.  Mrs. Fenton {456e}
+has writ to me that she has been forced to leave Lady Giffard, and come
+to town, for a rheumatism: that lady does not love to be troubled with
+sick people.  Mrs. Fenton writes to me as one dying, and desires I would
+think of her son: I have not answered her letter.  She is retired {457a}
+to Mrs. Povey’s.  Is my aunt alive yet? and do you ever see her?  I
+suppose she has forgot the loss of her son.  Is Raymond’s new house quite
+finished? and does he squander as he used to do?  Has he yet spent all
+his wife’s fortune?  I hear there are five or six people putting strongly
+in for my livings; God help them!  But if ever the Court should give me
+anything, I would recommend Raymond to the Duke of Ormond; not for any
+particular friendship to him, but because it would be proper for the
+minister of Trim to have Laracor.  You may keep the gold-studded
+snuff-box now; for my brother Hill, Governor of Dunkirk, has sent me the
+finest that ever you saw. {457b}  It is allowed at Court that none in
+England comes near it, though it did not cost above twenty pounds.  And
+the Duchess of Hamilton has made me pockets for [it] like a woman’s, with
+a belt and buckle (for, you know, I wear no waistcoat in summer), and
+there are several divisions, and one on purpose for my box, oh ho!—We
+have had most delightful weather this whole week; but illness and
+vomiting have hindered me from sharing in a great part of it.  Lady
+Masham made the Queen send to Kensington for some of her preserved ginger
+for me, which I take in the morning, and hope it will do me good.  Mrs.
+Brent {457c} sent me a letter by a young fellow, a printer, desiring I
+would recommend him here, which you may tell her I have done: but I
+cannot promise what will come of it, for it is necessary they should be
+made free here {457d} before they can be employed.  I remember I put the
+boy prentice to Brent.  I hope Parvisol has set my tithes well this year:
+he has writ nothing to me about it; pray talk to him of it when you see
+him, and let him give me an account how things are.  I suppose the corn
+is now off the ground.  I hope he has sold that great ugly horse.  Why
+don’t you sell to him?  He keeps me at charges for horses that I never
+ride: yours is lame, and will never be good for anything.  The Queen will
+stay here about a month longer, I suppose; but Lady Masham will go in ten
+days to lie in at Kensington.  Poor creature, she fell down in the court
+here t’other day.  She would needs walk across it upon some displeasure
+with her chairmen, and was likely to be spoiled so near her time; but we
+hope all is over for a black eye and a sore side: though I shall not be
+at ease till she is brought to bed.  I find I can fill up a letter, some
+way or other, without a journal.  If I had not a spirit naturally
+cheerful, I should be very much discontented at a thousand things.  Pray
+God preserve MD’s health, and Pdfr’s, and that I may live far from the
+envy and discontent that attends those who are thought to have more
+favour at Courts than they really possess.  Love Pdfr, who loves MD above
+all things.  Farewell, deelest, ten thousand times deelest, MD MD MD, FW
+FW, ME ME ME ME.  Lele, Lele, Lele, Lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LIII. {458}
+
+
+                                                   LONDON, _Oct._ 9, 1712.
+
+I HAVE left Windsor these ten days, and am deep in pills with asafoetida,
+and a steel bitter drink; and I find my head much better than it was.  I
+was very much discouraged; for I used to be ill for three or four days
+together, ready to totter as I walked.  I take eight pills a day, and
+have taken, I believe, a hundred and fifty already.  The Queen, Lord
+Treasurer, Lady Masham, and I, were all ill together, but are now all
+better; only Lady Masham expects every day to lie in at Kensington.
+There was never such a lump of lies spread about the town together as
+now.  I doubt not but you will have them in Dublin before this comes to
+you, and all without the least grounds of truth.  I have been mightily
+put backward in something I am writing by my illness, but hope to fetch
+it up, so as to be ready when the Parliament meets.  Lord Treasurer has
+had an ugly fit of the rheumatism, but is now near quite well.  I was
+playing at one-and-thirty with him and his family t’other night.  He gave
+us all twelvepence apiece to begin with: it put me in mind of Sir William
+Temple. {459a}  I asked both him and Lady Masham seriously whether the
+Queen were at all inclined to a dropsy, and they positively assured me
+she was not: so did her physician Arbuthnot, who always attends her.  Yet
+these devils have spread that she has holes in her legs, and runs at her
+navel, and I know not what.  Arbuthnot has sent me from Windsor a pretty
+Discourse upon Lying, and I have ordered the printer to come for it.  It
+is a proposal for publishing a curious piece, called _The Art of
+Political Lying_, in two volumes, etc.  And then there is an abstract of
+the first volume, just like those pamphlets which they call _The Works of
+the Learned_. {459b}  Pray get it when it comes out.  The Queen has a
+little of the gout in one of her hands.  I believe she will stay a month
+still at Windsor.  Lord Treasurer showed me the kindest letter from her
+in the world, by which I picked out one secret, that there will be soon
+made some Knights of the Garter.  You know another is fallen by Lord
+Godolphin’s death: he will be buried in a day or two at Westminster
+Abbey.  I saw Tom Leigh {459c} in town once.  The Bishop of Clogher has
+taken his lodging for the winter; they are all well.  I hear there are in
+town abundance of people from Ireland; half a dozen bishops at least. The
+poor old Bishop of London, {459d} at past fourscore, fell down backward
+going upstairs, and I think broke or cracked his skull; yet is now
+recovering.  The town is as empty as at midsummer; and if I had not
+occasion for physic, I would be at Windsor still.  Did I tell you of Lord
+Rivers’s will?  He has left legacies to about twenty paltry old whores by
+name, and not a farthing to any friend, dependent, or relation: he has
+left from his only child, Lady Barrymore, {460a} her mother’s estate, and
+given the whole to his heir-male, a popish priest, a second cousin, who
+is now Earl Rivers, and whom he used in his life like a footman.  After
+him it goes to his chief wench and bastard.  Lord Treasurer and Lord
+Chamberlain are executors of this hopeful will.  I loved the man, and
+detest his memory.  We hear nothing of peace yet: I believe verily the
+Dutch are so wilful, because they are told the Queen cannot live.  I had
+poor MD’s letter, N. 3, {460b} at Windsor: but I could not answer it
+then; poor Pdfr was vely kick {460c} then: and, besides, it was a very
+inconvenient place to send letters from.  Oo thought to come home the
+same day, and stayed a month: that was a sign the place was agreeable.
+{460d}  I should love such a sort of jaunt.  Is that lad Swanton {460e} a
+little more fixed than he used to be?  I think you like the girl very
+well.  She has left off her grave airs, I suppose.  I am now told Lord
+Godolphin was buried last night.—O poo Ppt! lay down oo head aden, fais I
+. . . ; I always reckon if oo are ill I shall hear it, and therefore hen
+oo are silent I reckon all is well. {460f}  I believe I ’scaped the new
+fever {460g} for the same reason that Ppt did, because I am not well; but
+why should DD ’scape it, pray?  She is melthigal, oo know, and ought to
+have the fever; but I hope it is now too late, and she won’t have it at
+all.  Some physicians here talk very melancholy, and think it foreruns
+the plague, which is actually at Hamburg.  I hoped Ppt would have done
+with her illness; but I think we both have that faculty never to part
+with a disorder for ever; we are very constant.  I have had my giddiness
+twenty-three years by fits.  Will Mrs. Raymond never have done lying-in?
+He intends to leave beggars enough; for I daresay he has squandered away
+the best part of his fortune already, and is not out of debt.  I had a
+letter from him lately.
+
+Oct. 11.  Lord Treasurer sent for me yesterday and the day before to sit
+with him, because he is not yet quite well enough to go abroad; and I
+could not finish my letter.  How the deuce come I to be so exact in ME
+money?  Just seventeen shillings and eightpence more than due; I believe
+you cheat me.  If Hawkshaw does not pay the interest I will have the
+principal; pray speak to Parvisol and have his advice what I should do
+about it.  Service to Mrs. Stoyte and Catherine and Mrs. Walls.  Ppt
+makes a petition with many apologies.  John Danvers, you know, is Lady
+Giffard’s friend.  The rest I never heard of.  I tell you what, as things
+are at present, I cannot possibly speak to Lord Treasurer for anybody.  I
+need tell you no more.  Something or nothing will be done in my own
+affairs: if the former, I will be a solicitor for your sister; {461a} if
+the latter, I have done with Courts for ever.  Opportunities will often
+fall in my way, if I am used well, and I will then make it my business.
+It is my delight to do good offices for people who want and deserve, and
+a tenfold delight to do it to a relation of Ppt, whose affairs she has so
+at heart. {461b}  I have taken down his name and his case (not _her_
+case), and whenever a proper time comes, I will do all I can; zat’s
+enough to say when I can do no more; and I beg oo pardon a sousand times,
+{462a} that I cannot do better.  I hope the Dean of St. P[atrick’s] is
+well of his fever: he has never writ to me: I am glad of it; pray don’t
+desire him to write.  I have dated your bill late, because it must not
+commence, ung oomens, till the first of November {462b} next.  O, fais, I
+must be ise; {462c} iss, fais, must I; else ME will cheat Pdfr.  Are you
+good housewives and readers?  Are you walkers?  I know you are gamesters.
+Are you drinkers?  Are you—  O Rold, I must go no further, for fear of
+abusing fine radies. {462d}  Parvisol has never sent me one word how he
+set this year’s tithes.  Pray ask whether tithes set well or ill this
+year.  The Bishop of Killaloe {462e} tells me wool bears a good rate in
+Ireland: but how is corn?  I dined yesterday with Lady Orkney, and we sat
+alone from two till eleven at night.—You have heard of her, I suppose.  I
+have twenty letters upon my hands, and am so lazy and so busy, I cannot
+answer them, and they grow upon me for several months.  Have I any apples
+at Laracor?  It is strange every year should blast them, when I took so
+much care for shelter.  Lord Bolingbroke has been idle at his
+country-house this fortnight, which puts me backward in a business I
+have.  I am got into an ordinary room two pair of stairs, and see nobody,
+if I can help it; yet some puppies have found me out, and my man is not
+such an artist as Patrick at denying me.  Patrick has been soliciting to
+come to me again, but in vain.  The printer has been here with some of
+the new whims printed, and has taken up my time.  I am just going out,
+and can only bid oo farewell.  Farewell, deelest ickle MD, MD MD MD FW FW
+FW FW ME ME ME ME.  Lele deel ME.  Lele lele lele sollahs bose. {462f}
+
+
+
+LETTER LIV. {463a}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Oct._ 28, 1712.
+
+I HAVE been in physic this month, and have been better these three weeks.
+I stop my physic, by the doctor’s orders, till he sends me further
+directions.  DD grows politician, and longs to hear the peace is
+proclaimed.  I hope we shall have it soon, for the Dutch are fully
+humbled; and Prior is just come over from France for a few days; I
+suppose upon some important affair.  I saw him last night, but had no
+private talk with him.  Stocks rise upon his coming.  As for my stay in
+England, it cannot be long now, so tell my friends.  The Parliament will
+not meet till after Christmas, and by that time the work I am doing will
+be over, and then nothing shall keep me.  I am very much discontented at
+Parvisol, about neglecting to sell my horses, etc.
+
+Lady Masham is not yet brought to bed; but we expect it daily.  I dined
+with her to-day.  Lord Bolingbroke returned about two months ago, and
+Prior about a week; and goes back (Prior I mean) in a few days.  Who told
+you of my snuff-box and pocket?  Did I?  I had a letter to-day from Dr.
+Coghill, {463b} desiring me to get Raphoe for Dean Sterne, and the
+deanery for myself.  I shall indeed, I have such obligations to Sterne.
+But however, if I am asked who will make a good bishop, I shall name him
+before anybody.  Then comes another letter, desiring I would recommend a
+Provost, {463c} supposing that Pratt (who has been here about a week)
+will certainly be promoted; but I believe he will not.  I presented Pratt
+to Lord Treasurer, and truly young Molyneux {463d} would have had me
+present him too; but I directly answered him I would not, unless he had
+business with him.  He is the son of one Mr. Molyneux of Ireland.  His
+father wrote a book; {464a} I suppose you know it.  Here is the Duke of
+Marlborough going out of England (Lord knows why), which causes many
+speculations.  Some say he is conscious of guilt, and dare not stand it.
+Others think he has a mind to fling an odium on the Government, as who
+should say that one who has done such great services to his country
+cannot live quietly in it, by reason of the malice of his enemies.  I
+have helped to patch up these people {464b} together once more.  God
+knows how long it may last. I was to-day at a trial between Lord
+Lansdowne and Lord Carteret, two friends of mine.  It was in the Queen’s
+Bench, for about six thousand a year (or nine, I think).  I sat under
+Lord Chief-Justice Parker, and his pen falling down I reached it up.  He
+made me a low bow; and I was going to whisper him that _I had done good
+for evil_; _for he would have taken mine from me_. {464c}  I told it Lord
+Treasurer and Bolingbroke.  Parker would not have known me, if several
+lords on the bench, and in the court, bowing, had not turned everybody’s
+eyes, and set them a whispering.  I owe the dog a spite, and will pay him
+in two months at furthest, if I can.  So much for that.  But you must
+have chat, and I must say every sorry thing that comes into my head.
+They say the Queen will stay a month longer at Windsor.  These devils of
+Grub Street rogues, that write the _Flying Post_ and _Medley_ in one
+paper, {464d} will not be quiet.  They are always mauling Lord Treasurer,
+Lord Bolingbroke, and me.  We have the dog under prosecution, but
+Bolingbroke is not active enough; but I hope to swinge him.  He is a
+Scotch rogue, one Ridpath. {464e}  They get out upon bail, and write on.
+We take them again, and get fresh bail; so it goes round.  They say some
+learned Dutchman has wrote a book, proving by civil law that we do them
+wrong by this peace; but I shall show by plain reason that we have
+suffered the wrong, and not they.  I toil like a horse, and have hundreds
+of letters still to read and squeeze a line out of each, or at least the
+seeds of a line.  Strafford goes back to Holland in a day or two, and I
+hope our peace is very near.  I have about thirty pages more to write
+(that is, to be extracted), which will be sixty in print.  It is the most
+troublesome part of all, and I cannot keep myself private, though I stole
+into a room up two pair of stairs, when I came from Windsor; but my
+present man has not yet learned his lesson of denying me discreetly.
+
+30.  The Duchess of Ormond found me out to-day, and made me dine with
+her.  Lady Masham is still expecting.  She has had a cruel cold.  I could
+not finish my letter last post for the soul of me.  Lord Bolingbroke has
+had my papers these six weeks, and done nothing to them.  Is Tisdall yet
+in the world?  I propose writing controversies, to get a name with
+posterity.  The Duke of Ormond will not be over these three or four days.
+I desire to make him join with me in settling all right among our people.
+I have ordered the Duchess to let me have an hour with the Duke at his
+first coming, to give him a true state of persons and things.  I believe
+the Duke of Shrewsbury will hardly be declared your Governor yet; at
+least, I think so now; but resolutions alter very often.  The Duke of
+Hamilton gave me a pound of snuff to-day, admirable good.  I wish DD had
+it, and Ppt too, if she likes it.  It cost me a quarter of an hour of his
+politics, which I was forced to hear.  Lady Orkney {466a} is making me a
+writing-table of her own contrivance, and a bed nightgown.  She is
+perfectly kind, like a mother.  I think the devil was in it the other
+day, that I should talk to her of an ugly squinting cousin of hers, and
+the poor lady herself, you know, squints like a dragon.  The other day we
+had a long discourse with her about love; and she told us a saying of her
+sister Fitz-Hardinge, {466b} which I thought excellent, that in men,
+desire begets love, and in women, love begets desire.  We have abundance
+of our old criers {466c} still hereabouts.  I hear every morning your
+women with the old satin and taffeta, etc., the fellow with old coats,
+suits or cloaks.  Our weather is abominable of late.  We have not two
+tolerable days in twenty.  I have lost money again at ombre, with Lord
+Orkney and others; yet, after all, this year I have lost but
+three-and-twenty shillings; so that, considering card money, I am no
+loser.
+
+Our Society hath not yet renewed their meetings.  I hope we shall
+continue to do some good this winter; and Lord Treasurer promises the
+Academy for reforming our language shall soon go forward.  I must now go
+hunt those dry letter for materials.  You will see something very
+notable, I hope.  So much for that.  God Almighty bless you.
+
+
+
+LETTER LV. {466d}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Nov._ 15, 1712.
+
+BEFORE this comes to your hands, you will have heard of the most terrible
+accident that hath almost ever happened.  This morning, at eight, my man
+brought me word that the Duke of Hamilton had fought with Lord Mohun,
+{467a} and killed him, and was brought home wounded. {467b}  I
+immediately sent him to the Duke’s house, in St. James’s Square; but the
+porter could hardly answer for tears, and a great rabble was about the
+house.  In short, they fought at seven this morning.  The dog Mohun was
+killed on the spot; and while {467c} the Duke was over him, Mohun,
+shortening his sword, stabbed him in at the shoulder to the heart.  The
+Duke was helped toward the cake-house by the Ring in Hyde Park (where
+they fought), and died on the grass, before he could reach the house; and
+was brought home in his coach by eight, while the poor Duchess {467d} was
+asleep.  Maccartney, {467e} and one Hamilton, {467f} were the seconds,
+who fought likewise, and are both fled.  I am told that a footman of Lord
+Mohun’s stabbed the Duke of Hamilton; and some say Maccartney did so too.
+Mohun gave the affront, and yet sent the challenge.  I am infinitely
+concerned for the poor Duke, who was a frank, honest, good-natured man.
+I loved him very well, and I think he loved me better.  He had {467g} the
+greatest mind in the world to have me go with him to France, but durst
+not tell it me; and those he did, said I could not be spared, which was
+true.  They have removed the poor Duchess to a lodging in the
+neighbourhood, where I have been with her two hours, and am just come
+away.  I never saw so melancholy a scene; for indeed all reasons for real
+grief belong to her; nor is it possible for anybody to be a greater loser
+in all regards.  She has moved my very soul.  The lodging was
+inconvenient, and they would have removed her to another; but I would not
+suffer it, because it had no room backward, and she must have been
+tortured with the noise of the Grub Street screamers mention[ing] her
+husband’s murder to her ears.
+
+I believe you have heard the story of my escape, in opening the bandbox
+sent to Lord Treasurer. {468a}  The prints have told a thousand lies of
+it; but at last we gave them a true account of it at length, printed in
+the evening; {468b} only I would not suffer them to name me, having been
+so often named before, and teased to death with questions.  I wonder how
+I came to have so much presence of mind, which is usually not my talent;
+but so it pleased God, and I saved myself and him; for there was a bullet
+apiece.  A gentleman told me that if I had been killed, the Whigs would
+have called it a judgment, because the barrels were of inkhorns, with
+which I had done them so much mischief.  There was a pure Grub Street of
+it, full of lies and inconsistencies. {468c}  I do not like these things
+at all, and I wish myself more and more among my willows. {468d}  There
+is a devilish spirit among people, and the Ministry must exert
+themselves, or sink.  Nite dee sollahs, I’ll go seep. {469a}
+
+16.  I thought to have finished this yesterday; but was too much
+disturbed.  I sent a letter early this morning to Lady Masham, to beg her
+to write some comforting words to the poor Duchess.  I dined to-[day]
+with Lady Masham at Kensington, where she is expecting these two months
+to lie in.  She has promised me to get the Queen to write to the Duchess
+kindly on this occasion; and to-morrow I will beg Lord Treasurer to visit
+and comfort her.  I have been with her two hours again, and find her
+worse: her violences not so frequent, but her melancholy more formal and
+settled.  She has abundance of wit and spirit; about thirty-three years
+old; handsome and airy, and seldom spared anybody that gave her the least
+provocation; by which she had many enemies and few friends.  Lady Orkney,
+her sister-in-law, is come to town on this occasion, and has been to see
+her, and behaved herself with great humanity.  They have been always very
+ill together, and the poor Duchess could not have patience when people
+told her I went often to Lady Orkney’s.  But I am resolved to make them
+friends; for the Duchess is now no more the object of envy, and must
+learn humility from the severest master, Affliction.  I design to make
+the Ministry put out a proclamation (if it can be found proper) against
+that villain Maccartney.  What shall we do with these murderers?  I
+cannot end this letter to-night, and there is no occasion; for I cannot
+send it till Tuesday, and the crowner’s inquest on the Duke’s body is to
+be to-morrow, and I shall know more.  But what care oo for all this?
+Iss, poo MD im sorry for poo Pdfr’s {469b} friends; and this is a very
+surprising event.  ’Tis late, and I’ll go to bed.  This looks like
+journals.  Nite.
+
+17.  I was to-day at noon with the Duchess of Hamilton again, after I had
+been with Lady Orkney, and charged her to be kind to her sister in her
+affliction.  The Duchess told me Lady Orkney had been with her, and that
+she did not treat her as gently as she ought.  They hate one another, but
+I will try to patch it up.  I have been drawing up a paragraph for the
+_Postboy_, to be out to-morrow, and as malicious as possible, and very
+proper for Abel Roper, {470a} the printer of it.  I dined at Lord
+Treasurer’s at six in the evening, which is his usual hour of returning
+from Windsor: he promises to visit the Duchess to-morrow, and says he has
+a message to her from the Queen.  Thank God.  I have stayed till past one
+with him.  So nite deelest MD. {470b}
+
+18.  The Committee of Council is to sit this afternoon upon the affair of
+the Duke of Hamilton’s murder, and I hope a proclamation will be out
+against Maccartney.  I was just now (’tis now noon) with the Duchess, to
+let her know Lord Treasurer will see her.  She is mightily out of order.
+The jury have not yet brought in their verdict upon the crowner’s
+inquest. We suspect Maccartney stabbed the Duke while he was fighting.
+The Queen and Lord Treasurer are in great concern at this event.  I dine
+to-day again with Lord Treasurer; but must send this to the post-office
+before, because else I shall not have time; he usually keeping me so
+late.  Ben Tooke bid me write to DD to send her certificate, for it is
+high time it should be sent, he says.  Pray make Parvisol write to me,
+and send me a general account of my affairs; and let him know I shall be
+over in spring, and that by all means he sells the horses.  Prior has
+kissed the Queen’s hand, and will return to France in a few days, and
+Lord Strafford to Holland; and now the King of Spain has renounced his
+pretensions to France, the peace must follow very soon unavoidably.  You
+must no more call Philip, Duke of Anjou, for we now acknowledge him King
+of Spain.  Dr. Pratt tells me you are all mad in Ireland with your
+playhouse frolics and prologues, and I know not what.  The Bishop of
+Clogher and family are well: they have heard from you, or you from them,
+lately, I have forgot which: I dined there t’other day, but the Bishop
+came not till after dinner; and our meat and drink was very so so.  Mr.
+Vedeau {471a} was with me yesterday, and inquired after you.  He was a
+lieutenant, and is now broke, and upon half-pay.  He asked me nothing for
+himself; but wanted an employment for a friend, who would give a handsome
+pair of gloves.  One Hales sent me up a letter t’other day, which said
+you lodged in his house, and therefore desired I would get him a civil
+employment.  I would not be within, and have directed my man to give him
+an answer, that I never open letters brought me by the writers, etc.  I
+was complaining to a lady that I wanted to mend an employment from forty
+to sixty pounds a year, in the Salt Office, and thought it hard I could
+not do it.  She told me one Mr. Griffin {471b} should do it.  And
+afterward I met Griffin at her lodgings; and he was, as I found, one I
+had been acquainted with.  I named Filby {471c} to him, and his abode
+somewhere near Nantwich.  He said frankly he had formerly examined the
+man, and found he understood very little of his business; but if he heard
+he mended, he would do what I desired.  I will let it rest a while, and
+then resume it; and if Ppt writes to Filby, she may advise him to
+diligence, etc.  I told Griffin positively I would have it done, if the
+man mended.  This is an account of poo Ppt’s commission to her most
+humble servant Pdfr.  I have a world of writing to finish, and little
+time; these toads of Ministers are so slow in their helps.  This makes me
+sometimes steal a week from the exactness I used to write to MD.
+Farewell, dee logues, deelest MD MD MD, . . . FW FW FW ME ME ME Lele.
+
+Smoke the folding of my letters of late. {471d}
+
+
+
+LETTER LVI. {472a}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Dec._ 12, 1712.
+
+HERE is now a stlange ting; a rettle flom MD unanswered: never was
+before.  I am slower, and MD is faster: but the last was owing to DD’s
+certificate.  Why could it not be sent before, pay now?  Is it so hard
+for DD to prove she is alive?  I protest solemnly I am not able to write
+to MD for other business, but I will resume my journal method next time.
+I find it is easier, though it contains nothing but where I dine, and the
+occurrences of the day.  I will write now but once in three weeks till
+this business is off my hands, which must be in six, I think, at
+farthest. O Ppt, I remember your reprimanding me for meddling in other
+people’s affairs: I have enough of it now, with a wanion. {472b}  Two
+women have been here six times apiece; I never saw them yet.  The first I
+have despatched with a letter; the other I must see, and tell her I can
+do nothing for her: she is wife of one Connor, {472c} an old college
+acquaintance, and comes on a foolish errand, for some old pretensions,
+that will succeed when I am Lord Treasurer.  I am got [up] two pair of
+stairs, in a private lodging, and have ordered all my friends not to
+discover where I am; yet every morning two or three sots are plaguing me,
+and my present servant has not yet his lesson perfect of denying me.  I
+have written a hundred and thirty pages in folio, to be printed, and must
+write thirty more, which will make a large book of four shillings. {472d}
+I wish I knew an opportunity of sending you some snuff.  I will watch who
+goes to Ireland, and do it if possible.  I had a letter from Parvisol,
+and find he has set my livings very low.  Colonel Hamilton, who was
+second to the Duke of Hamilton, is tried to-day.  I suppose he is come
+off, but have not heard. {473a}  I dined with Lord Treasurer, but left
+him by nine, and visited some people.  Lady Betty, {473b} his {473c}
+daughter, will be married on Monday next (as I suppose) to the Marquis of
+Caermarthen.  I did not know your country place had been Portraine, till
+you told me so in your last.  Has Swanton taken it of Wallis?  That
+Wallis was a grave, wise coxcomb.  God be thanked that Ppt im better of
+her disoddles. {473d}  Pray God keep her so.  The pamphlet of _Political
+Lying_ is written by Dr. Arbuthnot, the author of _John Bull_; ’tis very
+pretty, but not so obvious to be understood.  Higgins, {473e} first
+chaplain to the Duke of Hamilton?  Why, the Duke of Hamilton never dreamt
+of a chaplain, nor I believe ever heard of Higgins.  You are glorious
+newsmongers in Ireland—Dean Francis, {473f} Sir R. Levinge, {473g} stuff
+stuff: and Pratt, more stuff.  We have lost our fine frost here; and Abel
+Roper tells as you have had floods in Dublin; ho, brave {473h} you!  Oh
+ho! Swanton seized Portraine, now I understand oo.  Ay, ay, now I see
+Portraune at the top of your letter.  I never minded it before.  Now to
+your second, N. 36.  So, you read one of the Grub Streets about the
+bandbox. {473i}  The Whig papers have abused me about the bandbox.  God
+help me, what could I do?  I fairly ventured my life.  There is a
+particular account of it in the _Postboy_, and Evening Post of that day.
+Lord Treasurer has had the seal sent him that sealed the box, and
+directions where to find the other pistol in a tree in St. James’s Park,
+which Lord Bolingbroke’s messenger found accordingly; but who sent the
+present is not yet known.  The Duke of Hamilton avoided the quarrel as
+much as possible, according to the foppish rules of honour in practice.
+What signified your writing angry to Filby?  I hope you said nothing of
+hearing anything from me.  Heigh! do oo write by sandlelight! nauti,
+nauti, nauti dallar, a hundred times, fol doing so.  O, fais, DD, I’ll
+take care of myself!  The Queen is in town, and Lady Masham’s month of
+lying-in is within two days of being out.  I was at the christening on
+Monday.  I could not get the child named Robin, after Lord Treasurer; it
+is Samuel, after the father.  My brother Ormond sent me some chocolate
+to-day.  I wish you had share of it: but they say ’tis good for me, and I
+design to drink some in a morning.  Our Society meets next Thursday, now
+the Queen is in town; and Lord Treasurer assures me that the Society for
+reforming the language shall soon be established.  I have given away ten
+shillings to-day to servants; ’tan’t be help if one should cry one’s eyes
+out. {474}  Hot a stir is here about your company and visits!  Charming
+company, no doubt; now I keep no company at all, nor have I any desire to
+keep any.  I never go to a coffee-house nor a tavern, nor have touched a
+card since I left Windsor.  I make few visits, nor go to levees; my only
+debauching is sitting late where I dine, if I like the company.  I have
+almost dropped the Duchesses of Shrewsbury and Hamilton, and several
+others.  Lord Treasurer, the Duke of Ormond, and Lady Orkney are all that
+I see very often.  Oh yes, and Lady Masham and Lord Bolingbroke, and one
+or two private friends.  I make no figure but at Court, where I affect to
+turn from a lord to the meanest of my acquaintance, and I love to go
+there on Sundays to see the world.  But, to say the truth, I am growing
+weary of it.  I dislike a million of things in the course of public
+affairs; and if I were to stay here much longer, I am sure I should ruin
+myself with endeavouring to mend them.  I am every day invited into
+schemes of doing this, but I cannot find any that will probably succeed.
+It is impossible to save people against their own will; and I have been
+too much engaged in patchwork already.  Do you understand all this stuff?
+No.  Well zen, you are now returned to ombre and the Dean, and Christmas;
+I wish oo a very merry one; and pray don’t lose oo money, nor play upon
+Watt Welch’s game.  Nite, sollahs, ’tis rate I’ll go to seep; I don’t
+seep well, and therefore never dare to drink coffee or tea after dinner:
+but I am very seepy in a molning.  This is the effect of time and years.
+Nite deelest MD.
+
+18.  Morn.  I am so very seepy in the morning that my man wakens me above
+ten times; and now I can tell oo no news of this day.  (Here is a
+restless dog, crying cabbages and savoys, plagues me every morning about
+this time; he is now at it.  I wish his largest cabbage were sticking in
+his throat.)  I lodge over against the house in Little Rider Street,
+where DD lodged.  Don’t oo lememble, maram?  To-night I must see the Abbé
+Gaultier, {475a} to get some particulars for my History.  It was he who
+was first employed by France in the overtures of peace, and I have not
+had time this month to see him; he is but a puppy too.  Lady Orkney has
+just sent to invite me to dinner; she has not given me the bed-nightgown;
+{475b} besides, I am come very much off from writing in bed, though I am
+doing it this minute; but I stay till my fire is burnt up.  My grate is
+very large; two bushels of coals in a week: but I save it in lodgings.
+Lord Abercorn is come to London, and will plague me, and I can do him no
+service.  The Duke of Shrewsbury goes in a day or two for France, perhaps
+to-day.  We shall have a peace very soon; the Dutch are almost entirely
+agreed, and if they stop we shall make it without them; that has been
+long resolved.  One Squire Jones, {475c} a scoundrel in my parish, has
+writ to me to desire I would engage Joe Beaumont to give him his interest
+for Parliament-man for Trim: pray tell Joe this; and if he designed to
+vote for him already, then he may tell Jones that I received his letter,
+and that I writ to Joe to do it.  If Joe be engaged for any other, then
+he may do what he will: and Parvisol may say he spoke to Joe, but Joe’s
+engaged, etc.  I received three pair of fine thread stockings from Joe
+lately.  Pray thank him when you see him, and that I say they are very
+fine and good.  (I never looked at them yet, but that’s no matter.)  This
+is a fine day.  I am ruined with coaches and chairs this twelvepenny
+weather.  I must see my brother Ormond at eleven, and then the Duchess of
+Hamilton, with whom I doubt I am in disgrace, not having seen her these
+ten days.  I send this to-day, and must finish it now; and perhaps some
+people may come and hinder me; for it im ten o’clock (but not
+shaving-day), and I must be abroad at eleven.  Abbé Gaultier sends me
+word I can’t see him to-night; pots cake him!  I don’t value anything but
+one letter he has of Petecum’s, {476a} showing the roguery of the Dutch.
+Did not the _Conduct of the Allies_ make you great politicians?  Fais, I
+believe you are not quite so ignorant as I thought you.  I am glad to
+hear oo walked so much in the country.  Does DD ever read to you, ung
+ooman?  O, fais! I shall find strange doings hen I tum ole! {476b}  Here
+is somebody coming that I must see that wants a little place; the son of
+cousin Rooke’s eldest daughter, that died many years ago.  He’s here.
+Farewell, deelest MD MD MD ME ME ME FW FW FW, Lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LVII. {476c}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _Dec._ 18, 1712.
+
+OUR Society was to meet to-day; but Lord Harley, who was President this
+week, could not attend, being gone to Wimbledon with his new
+brother-in-law, the young Marquis of Caermarthen, who married Lady Betty
+Harley on Monday last; and Lord Treasurer is at Wimbledon too.  However,
+half a dozen of us met, and I propose our meetings should be once a
+fortnight; for, between you and me, we do no good.  It cost me nineteen
+shillings to-day for my Club at dinner; I don’t like it, fais.  We have
+terrible snowy slobbery weather.  Lord Abercorn is come to town, and will
+see me, whether I will or no.  You know he has a pretence to a dukedom in
+France, which the Duke of Hamilton was soliciting for; but Abercorn
+resolves to spoil their title, if they will not allow him a fourth part;
+and I have advised the Duchess to compound with him, and have made the
+Ministry of my opinion.  Night, dee sollahs, MD, MD.
+
+19.  Ay mally zis is sumsing rike, {477a} for Pdfr to write journals
+again!  ’Tis as natural as mother’s milk, now I am got into it.  Lord
+Treasurer is returned from Wimbledon (’tis not above eight miles off),
+and sent for me to dine with him at five; but I had the grace to be
+abroad, and dined with some others, with honest Ben Tooke, by invitation.
+The Duchess of Ormond promised me her picture, and coming home to-night,
+I found hers and the Duke’s both in my chamber.  Was not that a pretty
+civil surprise?  Yes, and they are in fine gilded frames, too.  I am
+writing a letter to thank her, which I will send to-morrow morning.  I’ll
+tell her she is such a prude that she will not let so much as her picture
+be alone in a room with _a man_, unless the Duke’s be with it; and so
+forth. {477b}  We are full of snow, and dabbling.  Lady Masham has come
+abroad these three days, and seen the Queen.  I dined with her t’other
+day at her sister Hill’s.  I hope she will remove in a few days to her
+new lodgings at St. James’s from Kensington.  Nite, dee logues MD.
+
+20.  I lodge [up] two pair of stairs, have but one room, and deny myself
+to everybody almost, yet I cannot be quiet; and all my mornings are lost
+with people, who will not take answers below stairs; such as Dilly, and
+the Bishop, and Provost, etc.  Lady Orkney invited me to dinner to-day,
+which hindered me from dining with Lord Treasurer.  This is his day that
+his chief friends in the Ministry dine with him.  However, I went there
+about six, and sat with them till past nine, when they all went off; but
+he kept me back, and told me the circumstances of Lady Betty’s match.
+The young fellow has £60,000 ready money, three great houses furnished,
+£7,000 a year at present, and about five more after his father and mother
+die.  I think Lady Betty’s portion is not above £8,000.  I remember
+either Tisdall writ to me in somebody’s letter, or you did it for him,
+that I should mention him on occasion to Lord Anglesea, with whom, he
+said, he had some little acquaintance.  Lord Anglesea was with me
+to-night at Lord Treasurer’s; and then I asked him about Tisdall, and
+described him.  He said he never saw him, but that he had sent him his
+book. {478a}  See what it is to be a puppy.  Pray tell Mr. Walls that
+Lord Anglesea thanked me for recommending Clements {478b} to him; that he
+says he is £20,000 the better for knowing Clements.  But pray don’t let
+Clements go and write a letter of thanks, and tell my lord that he hears
+so and so, etc.  Why, ’tis but like an Irish understanding to do so.  Sad
+weather; two shillings in coaches to-day, and yet I am dirty.  I am now
+going to read over something and correct it.  So, nite.
+
+21.  Puppies have got a new way of plaguing me.  I find letters directed
+for me at Lord Treasurer’s, sometimes with enclosed ones to him, and
+sometimes with projects, and some times with libels.  I usually keep them
+three or four days without opening.  I was at Court to-day, as I always
+am on Sundays, instead of a coffee-house, to see my acquaintance.  This
+day se’nnight, after I had been talking at Court with Sir William
+Wyndham, the Spanish Ambassador {478c} came to him and said he heard that
+was Dr. Swift, and desired him to tell me that his master, and the King
+of France, and the Queen, were more obliged to me than any man in Europe;
+so we bowed, and shook hands, etc.  I took it very well of him.  I dined
+with Lord Treasurer, and must again to-morrow, though I had rather not
+(as DD says); but now the Queen is in town, he does not keep me so late.
+I have not had time to see Fanny Manley since she came, but intend it one
+of these days.  Her uncle, Jack Manley, {479a} I hear, cannot live a
+month, which will be a great loss to her father in Ireland, for I believe
+he is one of his chief supports.  Our peace now will soon be determined;
+for Lord Bolingbroke tells me this morning that four provinces of Holland
+{479b} have complied with the Queen, and we expect the rest will do so
+immediately.  Nite MD.
+
+22.  Lord Keeper promised me yesterday the first convenient living to
+poor Mr. Gery, {479c} who is married, and wants some addition to what he
+has.  He is a very worthy creature.  I had a letter some weeks ago from
+Elwick, {479d} who married Betty Gery.  It seems the poor woman died some
+time last summer.  Elwick grows rich, and purchases lands.  I dined with
+Lord Treasurer to-day, who has engaged me to come again to-morrow.  I
+gave Lord Bolingbroke a poem of Parnell’s. {479e}  I made Parnell insert
+some compliments in it to his lordship.  He is extremely pleased with it,
+and read some parts of it to-day to Lord Treasurer, who liked it as much.
+And indeed he outdoes all our poets here a bar’s length.  Lord
+Bolingbroke has ordered me to bring him to dinner on Christmas Day, and I
+made Lord Treasurer promise to see him; and it may one day do Parnell a
+kindness.  You know Parnell.  I believe I have told you of that poem.
+Nite, deel MD.
+
+23.  This morning I presented one Diaper, {479f} a poet, to Lord
+Bolingbroke, with a new poem, which is a very good one; and I am to give
+him a sum of money from my lord; and I have contrived to make a parson of
+him, for he is half one already, being in deacon’s orders, and serves a
+small cure in the country; but has a sword at his a— here in town.  ’Tis
+a poor little short wretch, but will do best in a gown, and we will make
+Lord Keeper give him a living.  Lord Bolingbroke writ to Lord Treasurer
+to excuse me to-day; so I dined with the former, and Monteleon, the
+Spanish Ambassador, who made me many compliments.  I stayed till nine,
+and now it is past ten, and my man has locked me up, and I have just
+called to mind that I shall be in disgrace with Tom Leigh. {480a}  That
+coxcomb had got into acquaintance with one Eckershall, {480b} Clerk of
+the Kitchen to the Queen, who was civil to him at Windsor on my account;
+for I had done some service to Eckershall.  Leigh teases me to pass an
+evening at his lodgings with Eckershall.  I put it off several times, but
+was forced at last to promise I would come to-night; and it never was in
+my head till I was locked up, and I have called and called, but my man is
+gone to bed; so I will write an excuse to-morrow.  I detest that Tom
+Leigh, and am as formal to him as I can when I happen to meet him in the
+Park.  The rogue frets me, if he knew it.  He asked me why I did not wait
+on the Bishop of Dromore. {480c}  I answered I had not the honour to be
+acquainted with him, and would not presume, etc.  He takes me seriously,
+and says the Bishop is no proud man, etc.  He tells me of a judge in
+Ireland that has done ill things.  I ask why he is not out?  Says he, “I
+think the bishops, and you, and I, and the rest of the clergy, should
+meet and consult about it.”  I beg his pardon, and say, “I cannot be
+serviceable that way.”  He answers, “Yes, everybody may help
+something.”—Don’t you see how curiously he contrives to vex me; for the
+dog knows that with half a word I could do more than all of them
+together.  But he only does it from the pride and envy of his own heart,
+and not out of a humorous design of teasing.  He is one of those that
+would rather a service should not be done, than done by a private man,
+and of his own country.  You take all this, don’t you?  Nite dee sollahs,
+I’ll go seep a dozey.
+
+24.  I dined to-day with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, in order to
+look over some of my papers; but nothing was done.  I have been also
+mediating between the Hamilton family and Lord Abercorn, to have them
+compound with him; and I believe they will do it.  Lord Selkirk, {480d}
+the late Duke’s brother, is to be in town, in order to go to France, to
+make the demands; and the Ministry are of opinion they will get some
+satisfaction, and they empowered me to advise the Hamilton side to agree
+with Abercorn, who asks a fourth part, and will go to France and spoil
+all if they won’t yield it.  Nite sollahs.
+
+25.  All melly Titmasses—melly Titmasses—I said it first—I wish it a
+souzand [times] zoth with halt {481a} and soul. {481b}  I carried Parnell
+to dine at Lord Bolingbroke’s, and he behaved himself very well; and Lord
+Bolingbroke is mightily pleased with him.  I was at St. James’s Chapel by
+eight this morning; and church and sacrament were done by ten.  The Queen
+has the gout in her hand, and did not come to church to-day; and I stayed
+so long in my chamber that I missed going to Court.  Did I tell you that
+the Queen designs to have a Drawing-room and company every day?  Nite dee
+logues.
+
+26.  I was to wish the Duke of Ormond a happy Christmas, and give half a
+crown to his porter.  It will cost me a dozen half-crowns among such
+fellows.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, who chid me for being absent three
+days.  Mighty kind, with a p—; less of civility, and more of his
+interest!  We hear Maccartney is gone over to Ireland.  Was it not
+comical for a gentleman to be set upon by highwaymen, and to tell them he
+was Maccartney?  Upon which they brought him to a justice of peace, in
+hopes of the reward, {481c} and the rogues were sent to gaol.  Was it not
+great presence of mind?  But maybe you heard this already; for there was
+a Grub Street of it.  Lord Bolingbroke told me I must walk away to-day
+when dinner was done, because Lord Treasurer, and he, and another, were
+to enter upon business; but I said it was as fit I should know their
+business as anybody, for I was to justify [it]. {482}  So the rest went,
+and I stayed, and it was so important, I was like to sleep over it.  I
+left them at nine, and it is now twelve.  Nite, MD.
+
+27.  I dined to-day with General Hill, Governor of Dunkirk.  Lady Masham
+and Mrs. Hill, his two sisters, were of the company, and there have I
+been sitting this evening till eleven, looking over others at play; for I
+have left off loving play myself; and I think Ppt is now a great
+gamester.  I have a great cold on me, not quite at its height.  I have
+them seldom, and therefore ought to be patient.  I met Mr. Addison and
+Pastoral Philips on the Mall to-day, and took a turn with them; but they
+both looked terrible dry and cold.  A curse of party!  And do you know I
+have taken more pains to recommend the Whig wits to the favour and mercy
+of the Ministers than any other people.  Steele I have kept in his place.
+Congreve I have got to be used kindly, and secured.  Rowe I have
+recommended, and got a promise of a place.  Philips I could certainly
+have provided for, if he had not run party mad, and made me withdraw my
+recommendation; and I set Addison so right at first that he might have
+been employed, and have partly secured him the place he has; yet I am
+worse used by that faction than any man.  Well, go to cards, sollah Ppt,
+and dress the wine and olange, sollah MD, and I’ll go seep.  ’Tis rate.
+Nite MD.
+
+28.  My cold is so bad that I could not go to church to-day, nor to
+Court; but I was engaged to Lord Orkney’s with the Duke of Ormond, at
+dinner; and ventured, because I could cough and spit there as I pleased.
+The Duke and Lord Arran left us, and I have been sitting ever since with
+Lord and Lady Orkney till past eleven: and my cold is worse, and makes me
+giddy.  I hope it is only my cold.  Oh, says Ppt, everybody is giddy with
+a cold; I hope it is no more; but I’ll go to bed, for the fellow has
+bawled “Past twelve.”  Night, deels.
+
+29.  I got out early to-day, and escaped all my duns.  I went to see Lord
+Bolingbroke about some business, and truly he was gone out too.  I dined
+in the City upon the broiled leg of a goose and a bit of brawn, with my
+printer.  Did I tell you that I forbear printing what I have in hand,
+till the Court decides something about me?  I will contract no more
+enemies, at least I will not embitter worse those I have already, till I
+have got under shelter; and the Ministers know my resolution, so that you
+may be disappointed in seeing this thing as soon as you expected.  I hear
+Lord Treasurer is out of order.  My cold is very bad.  Every[body] has
+one.  Nite two dee logues.
+
+30.  I suppose this will be full by Saturday; zen {483a} it sall go.
+Duke of Ormond, Lord Arran, and I, dined privately to-day at an old
+servant’s house of his.  The Council made us part at six.  One Mrs.
+Ramsay dined with us; an old lady of about fifty-five, that we are all
+very fond of.  I called this evening at Lord Treasurer’s, and sat with
+him two hours.  He has been cupped for a cold, and has been very ill.  He
+cannot dine with Parnell and me at Lord Bolingbroke’s to-morrow, but says
+he will see Parnell some other time.  I hoise {483b} up Parnell partly to
+spite the envious Irish folks here, particularly Tom Leigh.  I saw the
+Bishop of Clogher’s family to-day; Miss is mighty ill of a cold, coughs
+incessantly. {483c}  Nite MD.
+
+31.  To-day Parnell and I dined with Lord Bolingbroke, to correct
+Parnell’s poem.  I made him show all the places he disliked; and when
+Parnell has corrected it fully he shall print it.  I went this evening to
+sit with Lord Treasurer.  He is better, and will be out in a day or two.
+I sat with him while the young folks went to supper; and then went down,
+and there were the young folks merry together, having turned Lady Oxford
+up to my lord, and I stayed with them till twelve.  There was the young
+couple, Lord and Lady Caermarthen, and Lord and Lady Dupplin, and Lord
+Harley and I; and the old folks were together above.  It looked like what
+I have formerly done so often; stealing together from the old folks,
+though indeed it was not from poor Lord Treasurer, who is as young a
+fellow as any of us: but Lady Oxford is a silly mere old woman. {484a}
+My cold is still so bad that I have not the least smelling.  I am just
+got home, and ’tis past twelve; and I’ll go to bed, and settle my head,
+heavy as lead.  Nite MD.
+
+Jan. 1, 1712–13.  A sousand melly new eels {484b} to deelest richar MD.
+Pray God Almighty bless you, and send you ever happy!  I forgot to tell
+you that yesterday Lord Abercorn was here, teasing me about his French
+duchy, and suspecting my partiality to the Hamilton family in such a
+whimsical manner that Dr. Pratt, who was by, thought he was mad.  He was
+no sooner gone but Lord Orkney sent to know whether he might come and sit
+with me half an hour upon some business.  I returned answer that I would
+wait on him; which I did.  We discoursed a while, and he left me with
+Lady Orkney; and in came the Earl of Selkirk, whom I had never seen
+before.  He is another brother of the Duke of Hamilton, and is going to
+France, by a power from his mother, the old Duchess, {484c} to negotiate
+their pretensions to the duchy of Chatelherault.  He teased me for two
+hours in spite of my teeth, and held my hand when I offered to stir;
+would have had me engage the Ministry to favour him against Lord
+Abercorn, and to convince them that Lord Abercorn had no pretensions; and
+desired I would also convince Lord Abercorn himself so; and concluded he
+was sorry I was a greater friend to Abercorn than Hamilton.  I had no
+patience, and used him with some plainness.  Am not I purely handled
+between a couple of puppies?  Ay, says Ppt, you must be meddling in other
+folks’ affairs.  I appeal to the Bishop of Clogher whether Abercorn did
+not complain that I would not let him see me last year, and that he swore
+he would take no denial from my servant when he came again.  The
+Ministers gave me leave to tell the Hamilton family it was their opinion
+that they ought to agree with Abercorn.  Lord Anglesea was then by, and
+told Abercorn; upon which he gravely tells me I was commissioned by the
+Ministers, and ought to perform my commission, etc.—But I’ll have done
+with them.  I have warned Lord Treasurer and Lord Bolingbroke to beware
+of Selkirk’s teasing, —x on him!  Yet Abercorn vexes me more.  The whelp
+owes to me all the kind receptions he has had from the Ministry.  I dined
+to-day at Lord Treasurer’s with the young folks, and sat with Lord
+Treasurer till nine, and then was forced to Lady Masham’s, and sat there
+till twelve, talking of affairs, till I am out of humour, as everyone
+must that knows them inwardly.  A thousand things wrong, most of them
+easy to mend; yet our schemes availing at best but little, and sometimes
+nothing at all.  One evil, which I twice patched up with the hazard of
+all the credit I had, is now spread more than ever. {485a}  But burn
+politics, and send me from Courts and Ministers!  Nite deelest richar MD.
+
+2.  I sauntered about this morning, and went with Dr. Pratt to a picture
+auction, where I had like to be drawn in to buy a picture that I was fond
+of, but, it seems, was good for nothing.  Pratt was there to buy some
+pictures for the Bishop of Clogher, who resolves to lay out ten pounds to
+furnish his house with curious pieces.  We dined with the Bishop, I being
+by chance disengaged.  And this evening I sat with the Bishop of Ossory,
+{485b} who is laid up with the gout.  The French Ambassador, Duke
+d’Aumont, {485c} came to town to-night; and the rabble conducted him home
+with shouts.  I cannot smell yet, though my cold begins to break.  It
+continues cruel hard frosty weather.  Go and be melly, . . . sollahs.
+{486a}
+
+3.  Lord Dupplin and I went with Lord and Lady Orkney this morning at ten
+to Wimbledon, six miles off, to see Lord and Lady Caermarthen.  It is
+much the finest place about this town.  Did oo never see it?  I was once
+there before, about five years ago.  You know Lady Caermarthen is Lord
+Treasurer’s daughter, married about three weeks ago.  I hope the young
+fellow will be a good husband.—I must send this away now.  I came back
+just by nightfall, cruel cold weather; I have no smell yet, but my cold
+something better.  Nite (?) sollahs; I’ll take my reeve.  I forget how
+MD’s accounts are.  Pray let me know always timely before MD wants; and
+pray give the bill on t’other side to Mrs. Brent as usual.  I believe I
+have not paid her this great while.  Go, play cards, and . . . rove Pdfr.
+Nite richar MD . . . roves Pdfr.  FW lele . . . MD MD MD MD MD FW FW FW
+FW MD MD Lele . . . {486b}
+
+The six odd shillings, tell Mrs. Brent, are for her new year’s gift.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+I {486c} am just now told that poor dear Lady Ashburnham, {486d} the Duke
+of Ormond’s daughter, died yesterday at her country house.  The poor
+creature was with child.  She was my greatest favourite, and I am in
+excessive concern for her loss.  I hardly knew a more valuable person on
+all accounts.  You must have heard me talk of her.  I am afraid to see
+the Duke and Duchess.  She was naturally very healthy; I am afraid she
+has been thrown away for want of care.  Pray condole with me.  ’Tis
+extremely moving.  Her lord’s a puppy; and I shall never think it worth
+my while to be troubled with him, now he has lost all that was valuable
+in his possession; yet I think he used her pretty well.  I hate life when
+I think it exposed to such accidents; and to see so many thousand
+wretches burdening the earth, while such as her die, makes me think God
+did never intend life for a blessing.  Farewell.
+
+
+
+LETTER LVIII. {487a}
+
+
+                                                LONDON, _Jan._ 4, 1712–13.
+
+I ENDED my last with the melancholy news of poor Lady Ashburnham’s death.
+The Bishop of Clogher and Dr. Pratt made me dine with them to-day at Lord
+Mountjoy’s, pursuant to an engagement, which I had forgot.  Lady Mountjoy
+told me that Maccartney was got safe out of our clutches, for she had
+spoke with one who had a letter from him from Holland.  Others say the
+same thing.  ’Tis hard such a dog should escape.—As I left Lord
+Mountjoy’s I saw the Duke d’Aumont, the French Ambassador, going from
+Lord Bolingbroke’s, where he dined, to have a private audience of the
+Queen.  I followed, and went up to Court, where there was a great crowd.
+I was talking with the Duke of Argyle by the fireside in the bed-chamber,
+when the Ambassador came out from the Queen.  Argyle presented me to him,
+and Lord Bolingbroke and we talked together a while.  He is a fine
+gentleman, something like the Duke of Ormond, and just such an expensive
+man.  After church to-day I showed the Bishop of Clogher, at Court, who
+was who.  Nite my two dee logues, and . . . {487b}
+
+5.  Our frost is broke, but it is bloody cold.  Lord Treasurer is
+recovered, and went out this evening to the Queen.  I dined with Lady
+Oxford, and then sat with Lord Treasurer while he went out.  He gave me a
+letter from an unknown hand, relating to Dr. Brown, {488a} Bishop of
+Cork, recommending him to a better bishopric, as a person who opposed
+Lord Wharton, and was made a bishop on that account, celebrating him for
+a great politician, etc.: in short, all directly contrary to his
+character, which I made bold to explain.  What dogs there are in the
+world!  I was to see the poor Duke and Duchess of Ormond this morning.
+The Duke was in his public room, with Mr. Southwell {488b} and two more
+gentlemen.  When Southwell and I were alone with him, he talked something
+of Lord Ashburnham, that he was afraid the Whigs would get him again.  He
+bore up as well as he could, but something falling accidentally in
+discourse, the tears were just falling out of his eyes, and I looked off
+to give him an opportunity (which he took) of wiping them with his
+handkerchief.  I never saw anything so moving, nor such a mixture of
+greatness of mind, and tenderness, and discretion.  Nite MD.
+
+6.  Lord Bolingbroke and Parnell and I dined, by invitation, with my
+friend Darteneuf, {488c} whom you have heard me talk of.  Lord
+Bolingbroke likes Parnell mightily; and it is pleasant to see that one
+who hardly passed for anything in Ireland makes his way here with a
+little friendly forwarding.  It is scurvy rainy weather, and I have
+hardly been abroad to-day, nor know anything that passes.—Lord Treasurer
+is quite recovered, and I hope will be careful to keep himself well.  The
+Duchess of Marlborough is leaving England to go to her Duke, and makes
+presents of rings to several friends, they say worth two hundred pounds
+apiece.  I am sure she ought to give me one, though the Duke pretended to
+think me his greatest enemy, and got people to tell me so, and very
+mildly to let me know how gladly he would have me softened toward him.  I
+bid a lady of his acquaintance and mine let him know that I had hindered
+many a bitter thing against him; not for his own sake, but because I
+thought it looked base; and I desired everything should be left him,
+except power.  Nite MD.
+
+7.  I dined with Lord and Lady Masham to-day, and this evening played at
+ombre with Mrs. Vanhom, merely for amusement.  The Ministers have got my
+papers, and will neither read them nor give them to me; and I can hardly
+do anything.  Very warm slabby weather, but I made a shift to get a walk;
+yet I lost half of it, by shaking off Lord Rochester, {489a} who is a
+good, civil, simple man.  The Bishop of Ossory will not be Bishop of
+Hereford, {489b} to the great grief of himself and his wife.  And hat is
+MD doing now, I wonder?  Playing at cards with the Dean and Mrs. Walls?
+I think it is not certain yet that Maccartney is escaped.  I am plagued
+with bad authors, verse and prose, who send me their books and poems, the
+vilest trash I ever saw; but I have given their names to my man, never to
+let them see me.  I have got new ink, and ’tis very white; and I don’t
+see that it turns black at all.  I’ll go to seep; ’tis past twelve.—Nite,
+MD.
+
+8.  Oo must understand that I am in my geers, and have got a
+chocolate-pot, a present from Mrs. Ashe of Clogher, and some chocolate
+from my brother Ormond, and I treat folks sometimes.  I dined with Lord
+Treasurer at five o’clock to-day, and was by while he and Lord
+Bolingbroke were at business; for it is fit I should know all that passes
+now, because, etc.  The Duke of Ormond employed me to speak to Lord
+Treasurer to-day about an affair, and I did so; and the Duke had spoke
+himself two hours before, which vexed me, and I will chide the Duke about
+it.  I’ll tell you a good thing; there is not one of the Ministry but
+what will employ me as gravely to speak for them to Lord Treasurer as if
+I were their brother or his; and I do it as gravely: though I know they
+do it only because they will not make themselves uneasy, or had rather I
+should be denied than they.  I believe our peace will not be finished
+these two months; for I think we must have a return from Spain by a
+messenger, who will not go till Sunday next.  Lord Treasurer has invited
+me to dine with him again to-morrow.  Your Commissioner, Keatley, {490a}
+is to be there.  Nite dee richar MD. {490b}
+
+9.  Dr. Pratt drank chocolate with me this morning, and then we walked.
+I was yesterday with him to see Lady Betty Butler, grieving for her
+sister Ashburnham.  The jade was in bed in form, and she did so cant, she
+made me sick.  I meet Tom Leigh every day in the Park, to preserve his
+health.  He is as ruddy as a rose, and tells me his Bishop of Dromore
+{490c} recovers very much.  That Bishop has been very near dying.  This
+day’s _Examiner_ talks of the play of “What is it like?” {490d} and you
+will think it to be mine, and be bit; for I have no hand in these papers
+at all.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, and shall again to-morrow, which is
+his day when all the Ministers dine with him.  He calls it whipping-day.
+It is always on Saturday, and we do indeed usually rally him about his
+faults on that day.  I was of the original Club, when only poor Lord
+Rivers, Lord Keeper, and Lord Bolingbroke came; but now Ormond, Anglesea,
+Lord Steward, {490e} Dartmouth, and other rabble intrude, and I scold at
+it; but now they pretend as good a title as I; and, indeed, many
+Saturdays I am not there.  The company being too many, I don’t love it.
+Nite MD.
+
+10.  At seven this evening, as we sat after dinner at Lord Treasurer’s, a
+servant said Lord Peterborow was at the door.  Lord Treasurer and Lord
+Bolingbroke went out to meet him, and brought him in.  He was just
+returned from abroad, where he has been above a year.  Soon as he saw me,
+he left the Duke of Ormond and other lords, and ran and kissed me before
+he spoke to them; but chid me terribly for not writing to him, which I
+never did this last time he was abroad, not knowing where he was; and he
+changed places so often, it was impossible a letter should overtake him.
+He left England with a bruise, by his coach overturning, that made him
+spit blood, and was so ill, we expected every post to hear of his death;
+but he outrode it or outdrank it, or something, and is come home lustier
+than ever.  He is at least sixty, and has more spirits than any young
+fellow I know in England.  He has got the old Oxford regiment of horse,
+and I believe will have a Garter.  I love the hang-dog dearly.  Nite dee
+MD.
+
+11.  The Court was crammed to-day to see {491a} the French Ambassador;
+but he did not come.  Did I never tell you that I go to Court on Sundays
+as to a coffee-house, to see acquaintance, whom I should otherwise not
+see twice a year?  The Provost {491b} and I dined with Ned Southwell, by
+appointment, in order to settle your kingdom, if my scheme can be
+followed; but I doubt our Ministry will be too tedious.  You must
+certainly have a new Parliament; but they would have that a secret yet.
+Our Parliament here will be prorogued for three weeks.  Those puppies the
+Dutch will not yet come in, though they pretend to submit to the Queen in
+everything; but they would fain try first how our session begins, in
+hopes to embroil us in the House of Lords: and if my advice had been
+taken, the session should have begun, and we would have trusted the
+Parliament to approve the steps already made toward the peace, and had an
+Address perhaps from them to conclude without the Dutch, if they would
+not agree.—Others are of my mind, but it is not reckoned so safe, it
+seems; yet I doubt whether the peace will be ready so soon as three
+weeks, but that is a secret.  Nite MD.
+
+12.  Pratt and I walked into the City to one Bateman’s, {491c} a famous
+bookseller, for old books.  There I laid out four pounds like a fool, and
+we dined at a hedge ale-house, for two shillings and twopence, like
+emperors.  Let me see, I bought Plutarch, two volumes, for thirty
+shillings, etc.  Well, I’ll tell you no more; oo don’t understand Greek.
+{492a}  We have no news, and I have nothing more to say to-day, and I
+can’t finish my work.  These Ministers will not find time to do what I
+would have them.  So nite, nown dee dallars.
+
+13.  I was to have dined to-day with Lord Keeper, but would not, because
+that brute Sir John Walter {492b} was to be one of the company.  You may
+remember he railed at me last summer was twelvemonth at Windsor, and has
+never begged my pardon, though he promised to do it; and Lord Mansel, who
+was one of the company, would certainly have set us together by the ears,
+out of pure roguish mischief.  So I dined with Lord Treasurer, where
+there was none but Lord Bolingbroke.  I stayed till eight, and then went
+to Lady Orkney’s, who has been sick, and sat with her till twelve, from
+whence you may consider it is late, sollahs.  The Parliament was
+prorogued to-day, as I told you, for three weeks.  Our weather is very
+bad and slobbery, and I shall spoil my new hat (I have bought a new hat),
+or empty my pockets.  Does Hawkshaw pay the interest he owes?  Lord
+Abercorn plagues me to death.  I have now not above six people to provide
+for, and about as many to do good offices to; and thrice as many that I
+will do nothing for; nor can I if I would.  Nite dee MD.
+
+14.  To-day I took the circle of morning visits.  I went to the Duchess
+of Ormond, and there was she, and Lady Betty, and Lord Ashburnham
+together: this was the first time the mother and daughter saw each other
+since Lady Ashburnham’s death.  They were both in tears, and I chid them
+for being together, and made Lady Betty go to her own chamber; then sat a
+while with the Duchess, and went after Lady Betty, and all was well.
+There is something of farce in all these mournings, let them be ever so
+serious.  People will pretend to grieve more than they really do, and
+that takes off from their true grief.  I then went to the Duchess of
+Hamilton, who never grieved, but raged, and stormed, and railed. {493a}
+She is pretty quiet now, but has a diabolical temper.  Lord Keeper and
+his son, and their two ladies, and I, dined to-day with Mr. Cæsar, {493b}
+Treasurer of the Navy, at his house in the City, where he keeps his
+office.  We happened to talk of Brutus, and I said something in his
+praise, when it struck me immediately that I had made a blunder in doing
+so; and, therefore, I recollected myself, and said, “Mr. Cæsar, I beg
+your pardon.”  So we laughed, etc.  Nite, my own deelest richar logues,
+MD.
+
+15.  I forgot to tell you that last night I had a present sent me (I
+found it, when I came home, in my chamber) of the finest wild fowl I ever
+saw, with the vilest letter, and from the vilest poet in the world, who
+sent it me as a bribe to get him an employment.  I knew not where the
+scoundrel lived, so I could not send them back, and therefore I gave them
+away as freely as I got them, and have ordered my man never to let up the
+poet when he comes.  The rogue should have kept the wings at least for
+his muse.  One of his fowls was a large capon pheasant, as fat as a
+pullet.  I ate share of it to-day with a friend.  We have now a
+Drawing-room every Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday at one o’clock.  The
+Queen does not come out; but all her Ministers, foreigners, and persons
+of quality are at it.  I was there to-day; and as Lord Treasurer came
+towards me, I avoided him, and he hunted me thrice about the room.  I
+affect never to take notice of him at church or Court.  He knows it, for
+I have told him so; and to-night, at Lord Masham’s, he gave an account of
+it to the company; but my reasons are, that people seeing me speak to him
+causes a great deal of teasing.  I tell you what comes into my head, that
+I never knew whether MD were Whigs or Tories, and I value our
+conversation the more that it never turned on that subject.  I have a
+fancy that Ppt is a Tory, and a violent one.  I don’t know why; but
+methinks she looks like one, and DD a sort of a Trimmer.  Am I right?  I
+gave the Examiner a hint about this prorogation, and to praise the Queen
+for her tenderness to the Dutch in giving them still more time to submit.
+{494a}  It fitted the occasions at present.  Nite MD.
+
+16.  I was busy to-day at the Secretary’s office, and stayed till past
+three.  The Duke of Ormond and I were to dine at Lord Orkney’s.  The Duke
+was at the Committee, so I thought all was safe.  When I went there, they
+had almost dined; for the Duke had sent to excuse himself, which I never
+knew.  I came home at seven, and began a little whim, which just came
+into my head; and will make a threepenny pamphlet. {494b}  It shall be
+finished and out in a week; and if it succeeds, you shall know what it
+is; otherwise, not.  I cannot send this to-morrow, and will put it off
+till next Saturday, because I have much business.  So my journals shall
+be short, and Ppt must have patience.  So nite, dee sollahs.
+
+17.  This rogue Parnell has not yet corrected his poem, and I would fain
+have it out.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer, and his Saturday
+company, nine of us in all.  They went away at seven, and Lord Treasurer
+and I sat talking an hour after.  After dinner he was talking to the
+lords about the speech the Queen must make when the Parliament meets.  He
+asked me how I would make it.  I was going to be serious, because it was
+seriously put; but I turned it to a jest.  And because they had been
+speaking of the Duchess of Marlborough going to Flanders after the Duke,
+I said the speech should begin thus: “My Lords and Gentlemen, In order to
+my own quiet, and that of my subjects, I have thought fit to send the
+Duchess of Marlborough abroad after the Duke.”  This took well, and
+turned off the discourse.  I must tell you I do not at all like the
+present situation of affairs, and remember I tell you so.  Things must be
+on another foot, or we are all undone.  I hate this driving always to an
+inch.  Nite MD.
+
+18.  We had a mighty full Court to-day.  Dilly was with me at the French
+church, and edified mightily.  The Duke of Ormond and I dined at Lord
+Orkney’s; but I left them at seven, and came home to my whim.  I have
+made a great progress.  My large Treatise {495a} stands stock still.
+Some think it too dangerous to publish, and would have me print only what
+relates to the peace.  I cannot tell what I shall do.—The Bishop of
+Dromore is dying.  They thought yesterday he could not live two hours;
+yet he is still alive, but is utterly past all hopes.  Go to cards,
+sollahs, and nite.
+
+19.  I was this morning to see the Duke and Duchess of Ormond.  The Duke
+d’Aumont came in while I was with the Duke of Ormond, and we complimented
+each other like dragons.  A poor fellow called at the door where I lodge,
+with a parcel of oranges for a present for me.  I bid my man know what
+his name was, and whence he came.  He sent word his name was Bun, and
+that I knew him very well.  I bid my man tell him I was busy, and he
+could not speak to me; and not to let him leave his oranges.  I know no
+more of it, but I am sure I never heard the name, and I shall take no
+such presents from strangers.  Perhaps he might be only some beggar, who
+wanted a little money.  Perhaps it might be something worse.  Let them
+keep their poison for their rats.  I don’t love it. {495b}  That blot is
+a blunder.  Nite dee MD. . . .
+
+20.  A Committee of our Society dined to-day with the Chancellor of the
+Exchequer.  Our Society does not meet now as usual, for which I am
+blamed: but till Lord Treasurer will agree to give us money and
+employments to bestow, I am averse to it; and he gives us nothing but
+promises.  The Bishop of Dromore is still alive, and that is all.  We
+expect every day he will die, and then Tom Leigh must go back, which is
+one good thing to the town.  I believe Pratt will drive at one of these
+bishoprics.  Our English bishopric {496a} is not yet disposed of.  I
+believe the peace will not be ready by the session.  Nite MD.
+
+21.  I was to-day with my printer, to give him a little pamphlet I have
+written, but not politics.  It will be out by Monday.  If it succeeds, I
+will tell you of it; otherwise, not.  We had a prodigious thaw to-day, as
+bad as rain; yet I walked like a good boy all the way.  The Bishop of
+Dromore still draws breath, but cannot live two days longer.  My large
+book lies flat.  Some people think a great part of it ought not to be now
+printed.  I believe I told you so before.  This letter shall not go till
+Saturday, which makes up the three weeks exactly; and I allow MD six
+weeks, which are now almost out; so oo must know I expect a rettle vely
+soon, and that MD is vely werr; {496b} and so nite, dee MD.
+
+22.  This is one of our Court days, and I was there.  I told you there is
+a Drawing-room, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday.  The Hamiltons and
+Abercorns have done teasing me.  The latter, I hear, is actually going to
+France.  Lord Treasurer quarrelled with me at Court for being four days
+without dining with him; so I dined there to-day, and he has at last
+fallen in with my project (as he calls it) of coining halfpence and
+farthings, with devices, like medals, in honour of the Queen, every year
+changing the device.  I wish it may be done.  Nite MD.
+
+23.  The Duke of Ormond and I appointed to dine with Ned Southwell
+to-day, to talk of settling your affairs of Parliament in Ireland, but
+there was a mixture of company, and the Duke of Ormond was in haste, and
+nothing was done.  If your Parliament meets this summer, it must be a new
+one; but I find some are of opinion there should be none at all these two
+years.  I will trouble myself no more about it.  My design was to serve
+the Duke of Ormond.  Dr. Pratt and I sat this evening with the Bishop of
+Clogher, and played at ombre for threepences.  That, I suppose, is but
+low with you.  I found, at coming home, a letter from MD, N. 37.  I shall
+not answer it zis bout, but will the next.  I am sorry for poo poo Ppt.
+Pray walk hen oo can.  I have got a terrible new cold before my old one
+was quite gone, and don’t know how.  Pay. . . . {497a}  I shall have DD’s
+money soon from the Exchequer.  The Bishop of Dromore is dead now at
+last.  Nite, dee MD.
+
+24.  I was at Court to-day, and it was comical to see Lord Abercorn
+bowing to me, but not speaking, and Lord Selkirk the same. {497b}  I
+dined with Lord Treasurer and his Saturday Club, and sat with him two
+hours after the rest were gone, and spoke freer to him of affairs than I
+am afraid others do, who might do more good.  All his friends repine, and
+shrug their shoulders; but will not deal with him so freely as they
+ought.  It is an odd business; the Parliament just going to sit, and no
+employments given.  They say they will give them in a few days.  There is
+a new bishop made of Hereford; {497c} so Ossory {497d} is disappointed.
+I hinted so to his friends two months ago, to make him leave off deluding
+himself, and being indiscreet, as he was.  I have just time to send this,
+without giving to the bellman.  Nite deelest richar MD. . . . dee MD MD
+MD FW FW FW ME ME ME Lele Lele Lele.
+
+My second cold is better now.  Lele lele lele lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LIX. {498a}
+
+
+                                             LONDON, _Jan._ 25, 1712–1713.
+
+WE had such a terrible storm to-day, that, going to Lord Bolingbroke’s, I
+saw a hundred tiles fallen down; and one swinger fell about forty yards
+before me, that would have killed a horse: so, after church and Court, I
+walked through the Park, and took a chair to Lord Treasurer’s.  Next door
+to his house, a tin chimneytop had fallen down, with a hundred bricks.
+It is grown calm this evening.  I wonder had you such a wind to-day?  I
+hate it as much as any hog does.  Lord Treasurer has engaged me to dine
+again with him to-morrow.  He has those tricks sometimes of inviting me
+from day to day, which I am forced to break through.  My little pamphlet
+{498b} is out: ’tis not politics.  If it takes, I say again you shall
+hear of it.  Nite dee logues.
+
+26.  This morning I felt a little touch of giddiness, which has
+disordered and weakened me with its ugly remains all this day.  Pity
+Pdfr.  After dinner at Lord Treasurer’s, the French Ambassador, Duke
+d’Aumont, sent Lord Treasurer word that his house was burnt down to the
+ground.  It took fire in the upper rooms, while he was at dinner with
+Monteleon, the Spanish Ambassador, and other persons; and soon after Lord
+Bolingbroke came to us with the same story.  We are full of speculations
+upon it, but I believe it was the carelessness of his French rascally
+servants.  ’Tis odd that this very day Lord Somers, Wharton, Sunderland,
+Halifax, and the whole club of Whig lords, dined at Pontack’s {498c} in
+the City, as I received private notice.  They have some damned design.  I
+tell you another odd thing; I was observing it to Lord Treasurer, that he
+was stabbed on the day King William died; and the day I saved his life,
+by opening the bandbox, {498d} was King William’s birthday.  My friend
+Mr. Lewis has had a lie spread on him by the mistake of a man, who went
+to another of his name, to give him thanks for passing his Privy Seal to
+come from France. {499a}  That other Lewis spread about that the man
+brought him thanks from Lord Perth and Lord Melfort (two lords with the
+Pretender), for his great services, etc.  The Lords will examine that
+t’other Lewis to-morrow in council; and I believe you will hear of it in
+the prints, for I will make Abel Roper give a relation of it.  Pray tell
+me if it be necessary to write a little plainer; for I looked over a bit
+of my last letter, and could hardly read it.  I’ll mend my hand, if oo
+please: but you are more used to it nor I, as Mr. Raymond says.  Nite MD.
+
+27.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer: this makes four days together;
+and he has invited me again to-morrow, but I absolutely refused him.  I
+was this evening at a christening with him of Lord Dupplin’s {499b}
+daughter.  He went away at ten; but they kept me and some others till
+past twelve; so you may be sure ’tis late, as they say.  We have now
+stronger suspicions that the Duke d’Aumont’s house was set on fire by
+malice.  I was to-day to see Lord Keeper, who has quite lost his voice
+with a cold.  There Dr. Radcliffe told me that it was the Ambassador’s
+confectioner set the house on fire by boiling sugar, and going down and
+letting it boil over.  Yet others still think differently; so I know not
+what to judge.  Nite my own deelest MD, rove Pdfr.
+
+28.  I was to-day at Court, where the Spanish Ambassador talked to me as
+if he did not suspect any design in burning d’Aumont’s house: but Abbé
+Gaultier, Secretary for France here, said quite otherwise; and that
+d’Aumont had a letter the very same day to let him know his house should
+be burnt, and they tell several other circumstances too tedious to write.
+One is, that a fellow mending the tiles just when the fire broke out, saw
+a pot with wildfire {499c} in the room.  I dined with Lord Orkney.
+Neither Lord Abercorn nor Selkirk will now speak with me.  I have
+disobliged both sides.  Nite dear MD.
+
+29.  Our Society met to-day, fourteen of us, and at a tavern.  We now
+resolve to meet but once a fortnight, and have a Committee every other
+week of six or seven, to consult about doing some good.  I proposed
+another message to Lord Treasurer by three principal members, to give a
+hundred guineas to a certain person, and they are to urge it as well as
+they can.  We also raised sixty guineas upon our own Society; but I made
+them do it by sessors, {500a} and I was one of them, and we fitted our
+tax to the several estates.  The Duke of Ormond pays ten guineas, and I
+the third part of a guinea; at that rate, they may tax as often as they
+please.  Well, but I must answer oor rettle, ung oomens: not yet; ’tis
+rate now, and I can’t tind it.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+30.  I have drank Spa waters this two or three days; but they do not
+pass, and make me very giddy.  I an’t well; faith, I’ll take them no
+more.  I sauntered after church with the Provost to-day to see a library
+to be sold, and dined at five with Lord Orkney.  We still think there was
+malice in burning d’Aumont’s house.  I hear little Harrison {500b} is
+come over; it was he I sent to Utrecht.  He is now Queen’s Secretary to
+the Embassy, and has brought with him the Barrier Treaty, as it is now
+corrected by us, and yielded to by the Dutch, which was the greatest
+difficulty to retard the peace.  I hope he will bring over the peace a
+month hence, for we will send him back as soon as possible.  I long to
+see the little brat, my own creature.  His pay is in all a thousand
+pounds a year, and they have never paid him a groat, though I have teased
+their hearts out.  He must be three or four hundred pounds in debt at
+least, the brat!  Let me go to bed, sollahs.—Nite dee richar MD.
+
+31.  Harrison was with me this morning: we talked three hours, and then I
+carried him to Court.  When we went down to the door of my lodging, I
+found a coach waited for him.  I chid him for it; but he whispered me it
+was impossible to do otherwise; and in the coach he told me he had not
+one farthing in his pocket to pay it; and therefore took the coach for
+the whole day, and intended to borrow money somewhere or other.  So there
+was the Queen’s Minister entrusted in affairs of the greatest importance,
+without a shilling in his pocket to pay a coach!  I paid him while he was
+with me seven guineas, in part of a dozen of shirts he bought me in
+Holland.  I presented him to the Duke of Ormond, and several lords at
+Court; and I contrived it so that Lord Treasurer came to me and asked (I
+had Parnell by me) whether that was Dr. Parnell, and came up and spoke to
+him with great kindness, and invited him to his house.  I value myself
+upon making the Ministry desire to be acquainted with Parnell, and not
+Parnell with the Ministry.  His poem is almost fully corrected, and shall
+soon be out.  Here’s enough for to-day: only to tell you that I was in
+the City with my printer to alter an _Examiner_ about my friend Lewis’s
+story, {501} which will be told with remarks.  Nite MD.
+
+Feb. 1.  I could do nothing till to-day about the _Examiner_, but the
+printer came this morning, and I dictated to him what was fit to be said,
+and then Mr. Lewis came, and corrected it as he would have it; so I was
+neither at church nor Court.  The Duke of Ormond and I dined at Lord
+Orkney’s.  I left them at seven, and sat with Sir Andrew Fountaine, who
+has a very bad sore leg, for which he designs to go to France.  Fais,
+here’s a week gone, and one side of this letter not finished.  Oh, but I
+write now but once in three weeks; iss, fais, this shall go sooner.  The
+Parliament is to sit on the third, but will adjourn for three or four
+days; for the Queen is laid up with the gout, and both Speakers out of
+order, though one of them, the Lord Keeper, is almost well.  I spoke to
+the Duke of Ormond a good deal about Ireland.  We do not altogether
+agree, nor am I judge enough of Irish affairs; but I will speak to Lord
+Treasurer to-morrow, that we three may settle them some way or other.
+Nite sollahs both, rove Pdfr.
+
+2.  I had a letter some days ago from Moll Gery; {502a} her name is now
+Wigmore, and her husband has turned parson.  She desires nothing but that
+I would get Lord Keeper to give him a living; but I will send her no
+answer, though she desires it much.  She still makes mantuas at Farnham.
+It rained all this day, and Dilly came to me, and was coaching it into
+the City; so I went with him for a shaking, because it would not cost me
+a farthing.  There I met my friend Stratford, {502b} the merchant, who is
+going abroad to gather up his debts, and be clear in the world.  He
+begged that I would dine with some merchant friends of ours there,
+because it was the last time I should see him: so I did, and thought to
+have seen Lord Treasurer in the evening, but he happened to go out at
+five; so I visited some friends, and came home.  And now I have the
+greatest part of your letter to answer; and yet I will not do it
+to-night, say what oo please.  The Parliament meets to-morrow, but will
+be prorogued for a fortnight; which disappointment will, I believe, vex
+abundance of them, though they are not Whigs; for they are forced to be
+in town at expense for nothing: but we want an answer from Spain, before
+we are sure of everything being right for the peace; and God knows
+whether we can have that answer this month.  It is a most ticklish
+juncture of affairs; we are always driving to an inch: I am weary of it.
+Nite MD.
+
+3.  The Parliament met, and was prorogued, as I said, and I found some
+cloudy faces, and heard some grumbling.  We have got over all our
+difficulties with France, I think.  They have now settled all the
+articles of commerce between us and them, wherein they were very much
+disposed to play the rogue if we had not held them to [it]; and this
+business we wait from Spain is to prevent some other rogueries of the
+French, who are finding an evasion to trade to the Spanish West Indies;
+but I hope we shall prevent it.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, and he was
+in good humour enough.  I gave him that part of my book in manuscript to
+read where his character was, and drawn pretty freely.  He was reading
+and correcting it with his pencil, when the Bishop of St. David’s [{503a}
+(now removing to Hereford) came in and interrupted us.  I left him at
+eight, and sat till twelve with the Provost and Bishop of Clogher at the
+Provost’s.  Nite MD.
+
+4.  I was to-day at Court, but kept out of Lord Treasurer’s way, because
+I was engaged to the Duke of Ormond, where I dined, and, I think, ate and
+drank too much.  I sat this evening with Lady Masham, and then with Lord
+Masham and Lord Treasurer at Lord Masham’s.  It was last year, you may
+remember, my constant evening place.  I saw Lady Jersey {503b} with Lady
+Masham, who has been laying out for my acquaintance, and has forced a
+promise for me to drink chocolate with her in a day or two, which I know
+not whether I shall perform (I have just mended my pen, you see), for I
+do not much like her character; but she is very malicious, and therefore
+I think I must keep fair with her.  I cannot send this letter till
+Saturday next, I find; so I will answer oors now.  I see no different
+days of the month; yet it is dated January 3: so it was long a coming.  I
+did not write to Dr. Coghill that I would have nothing in Ireland, but
+that I was soliciting nothing anywhere, and that is true.  I have named
+Dr. Sterne to Lord Treasurer, Lord Bolingbroke, and the Duke of Ormond,
+for a bishopric, and I did it heartily.  I know not what will come of it;
+but I tell you as a great secret that I have made the Duke of Ormond
+promise me to recommend nobody till he tells me, and this for some
+reasons too long to mention.  My head is still in no good order.  I am
+heartily sorry for poo Ppt, I’m sure.  Her head is good for . . . {503c}
+I’ll answer more to-mollow.  Nite, dearest MD; nite dee sollahs, MD.
+{503d}
+
+5.  I must go on with oo letter.  I dined to-day with Sir Andrew
+Fountaine and the Provost, and I played at ombre with him all the
+afternoon.  I won, yet Sir Andrew is an admirable player.  Lord Pembroke
+{504a} came in, and I gave him three or four scurvy Dilly puns, that
+begin with an IF.  Well, but oor letter, well, ret me see.—No; I believe
+I shall write no more this good while, nor publish what I have done.
+Nauty (?) Ppt, oo are vely tempegant.  I did not suspect oo would tell
+Filby. {504b}  Oo are so . . . {504c}  Turns and visitations—what are
+these?  I’ll preach and visit as much for Mr. Walls.  Pray God mend
+poopt’s {504d} health; mine is but very indifferent.  I have left off Spa
+water; it makes my leg swell.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+6.  This is the Queen’s Birthday, and I never saw it celebrated with so
+much luxury and fine clothes.  I went to Court to see them, and I dined
+with Lord Keeper, where the ladies were fine to admiration.  I passed the
+evening at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and came home pretty early, to answer oo
+rettle again.  Pray God keep the Queen.  She was very ill about ten days
+ago, and had the gout in her stomach.  When I came from Lord Keeper’s, I
+called at Lord Treasurer’s, because I heard he was very fine, and that
+was a new thing; and it was true, for his coat and waistcoat were
+embroidered.  I have seen the Provost often since, and never spoke to him
+to speak to the Temples about Daniel Carr, nor will; I don’t care to do
+it.  I have writ lately to Parvisol.  Oo did well to let him make up his
+accounts.  All things grow dear in Ireland, but corn to the parsons; for
+my livings are fallen much this year by Parvisol’s account.  Nite dee
+logues, MD.
+
+7. [8]  I was at Court to-day, but saw no Birthday clothes; the great
+folks never wear them above once or twice.  I dined with Lord Orkney, and
+sat the evening with Sir Andrew Fountaine, whose leg is in a very dubious
+condition.  Pray let me know when DD’s money is near due: always let me
+know it beforehand.  This, I believe, will hardly go till Saturday; for I
+tell you what, being not very well, I dare not study much: so I let
+company come in a morning, and the afternoon pass in dining and sitting
+somewhere.  Lord Treasurer is angry if I don’t dine with him every second
+day, and I cannot part with him till late: he kept me last night till
+near twelve.  Our weather is constant rain above these two months, which
+hinders walking, so that our spring is not like yours.  I have not seen
+Fanny Manley {505a} yet; I cannot find time.  I am in rebellion with all
+my acquaintance, but I will mend with my health and the weather.  Clogher
+make a figure!  Clogher make a —.  Colds! why, we have been all dying
+with colds; but now they are a little over, and my second is almost off.
+I can do nothing for Swanton indeed.  It is a thing impossible, and
+wholly out of my way.  If he buys, he must buy.  So now I have answered
+oo rettle; and there’s an end of that now; and I’ll say no more, but bid
+oo nite, dee MD.
+
+8. [9]  It was terrible rainy to-day from morning till night.  I intended
+to have dined with Lord Treasurer, but went to see Sir Andrew Fountaine,
+and he kept me to dinner, which saved coach-hire; and I stayed with him
+all the afternoon, and lost thirteen shillings and sixpence at ombre.
+There was management! and Lord Treasurer will chide; but I’ll dine with
+him to-morrow.  The Bishop of Clogher’s daughter has been ill some days,
+{505b} and it proves the smallpox.  She is very full; but it comes out
+well, and they apprehend no danger.  Lady Orkney has given me her
+picture; a very fine original of Sir Godfrey Kneller’s; it is now a
+mending.  He has favoured her squint admirably; and you know I love a
+cast in the eye.  I was to see Lady Worsley {505c} to-day, who is just
+come to town; she is full of rheumatic pains.  All my acquaintance grow
+old and sickly.  She lodges in the very house in King Street, between St.
+James’s Street and St. James’s Square, where DD’s brother bought the
+sweetbread, when I lodged there, and MD came to see me.  Short sighs.
+{505d}  Nite MD.
+
+9. [10]  I thought to have dined with Lord Treasurer to-day, but he dined
+abroad at Tom Harley’s; so I dined at Lord Masham’s, and was winning all
+I had lost playing with Lady Masham at crown picquet, when we went to
+pools, and I lost it again.  Lord Treasurer came in to us, and chid me
+for not following him to Tom Harley’s.  Miss Ashe is still the same, and
+they think her not in danger; my man calls there daily after I am gone
+out, and tells me at night.  I was this morning to see Lady Jersey, and
+we have made twenty parties about dining together, and I shall hardly
+keep one of them.  She is reduced after all her greatness to seven
+servants, and a small house, and no coach. {506a}  I like her tolerably
+as yet.  Nite MD.
+
+10. [11]  I made visits this morning to the Duke and Duchess of Ormond,
+and Lady Betty, and the Duchess of Hamilton.  (When I was writing this
+near twelve o’clock, the Duchess of Hamilton sent to have me dine with
+her to-morrow.  I am forced to give my answer through the door, for my
+man has got the key, and is gone to bed; but I cannot obey her, for our
+Society meets to-morrow.)  I stole away from Lord Treasurer by eight, and
+intended to have passed the evening with Sir Thomas Clarges {506b} and
+his lady; but met them in another place, and have there sat till now.  My
+head has not been ill to-day.  I was at Court, and made Lord Mansel walk
+with me in the Park before we went to dinner.—Yesterday and to-day have
+been fair, but yet it rained all last night.  I saw Sterne staring at
+Court to-day.  He has been often to see me, he says: but my man has not
+yet let him up.  He is in deep mourning; I hope it is not for his wife.
+{507a}  I did not ask him.  Nite MD.
+
+12. {507b}  I have reckoned days wrong all this while; for this is the
+twelfth.  I do not know when I lost it.  I dined to-day with our Society,
+the greatest dinner I have ever seen.  It was at Jack Hill’s, the
+Governor of Dunkirk.  I gave an account of sixty guineas I had collected,
+and am to give them away to two authors to-morrow; and Lord Treasurer has
+promised us a hundred pounds to reward some others.  I found a letter on
+my table last night to tell me that poor little Harrison, the Queen’s
+Secretary, that came lately from Utrecht with the Barrier Treaty, was
+ill, and desired to see me at night; but it was late, and I could not go
+till to-day.  I have often mentioned him in my letters, you may remember.
+. . . I went in the morning, and found him mighty ill, and got thirty
+guineas for him from Lord Bolingbroke, and an order for a hundred pounds
+from the Treasury to be paid him to-morrow; and I have got him removed to
+Knightsbridge for air.  He has a fever and inflammation on his lungs; but
+I hope will do well.  Nite.
+
+13.  I was to see a poor poet, one Mr. Diaper, {507c} in a nasty garret,
+very sick.  I gave him twenty guineas from Lord Bolingbroke, and disposed
+the other sixty to two other authors, and desired a friend to receive the
+hundred pounds for poor Harrison, and will carry it to him to-morrow
+morning.  I sent to see how he did, and he is extremely ill; and I very
+much afflicted for him, for he is my own creature, and in a very
+honourable post, and very worthy of it.  I dined in the City.  I am in
+much concern for this poor lad.  His mother and sister attend him, and he
+wants nothing.  Nite poo dee MD.
+
+14.  I took Parnell this morning, and we walked to see poor Harrison.  I
+had the hundred pounds in my pocket.  I told Parnell I was afraid to
+knock at the door; my mind misgave me.  I knocked, and his man in tears
+told me his master was dead an hour before.  Think what grief this is to
+me!  I went to his mother, and have been ordering things for his funeral
+with as little cost as possible, to-morrow at ten at night.  Lord
+Treasurer was much concerned when I told him.  I could not dine with Lord
+Treasurer, nor anywhere else; but got a bit of meat toward evening.  No
+loss ever grieved me so much: poor creature!  Pray God Almighty bless
+poor MD.  Adieu.
+
+I send this away to-night, and am sorry it must go while I am in so much
+grief.
+
+
+
+LETTER LX. {508a}
+
+
+                                              LONDON, _Feb._ 15 [1712–13].
+
+I DINED to-day with Mr. Rowe {508b} and a projector, who has been teasing
+me with twenty schemes to get grants; and I don’t like one of them; and,
+besides, I was out of humour for the loss of poor Harrison.  At ten this
+night I was at his funeral, which I ordered to be as private as possible.
+We had but one coach with four of us; and when it was carrying us home
+after the funeral, the braces broke; and we were forced to sit in it, and
+have it held up, till my man went for chairs, {508c} at eleven at night
+in terrible rain.  I am come home very melancholy, and will go to bed.
+Nite . . . MD. {508d}
+
+16.  I dined to-day with Lord Dupplin and some company to divert me; but
+left them early, and have been reading a foolish book for amusement.  I
+shall never have courage again to care for making anybody’s fortune.  The
+Parliament meets to-morrow, and will be prorogued another fortnight, at
+which several of both parties were angry; but it cannot be helped, though
+everything about the peace is past all danger.  I never saw such a
+continuance of rainy weather.  We have not had two fair days together
+these ten weeks.  I have not dined with Lord Treasurer these four days,
+nor can I till Saturday; for I have several engagements till then, and he
+will chide me to some purpose.  I am perplexed with this hundred pounds
+of poor Harrison’s, what to do with it.  I cannot pay his relations till
+they administer, for he is much in debt; {509a} but I will have the staff
+in my own hands, and venture nothing.  Nite poo dee MD.
+
+17.  Lady Jersey and I dined by appointment to-day with Lord Bolingbroke.
+He is sending his brother {509b} to succeed Mr. {509c} Harrison.  It is
+the prettiest post in Europe for a young gentleman.  I lose my money at
+ombre sadly; I make a thousand blunders.  I play but {509d} threepenny
+ombre; but it is what you call running ombre.  Lady Clarges, {509e} and a
+drab I hate, won a dozen shillings of me last night.  The Parliament was
+prorogued to-day; and people grumble; and the good of it is the peace
+cannot be finished by the time they meet, there are so many fiddling
+things to do.  Is Ppt an ombre lady yet?  You know all the tricks of it
+now, I suppose.  I reckon you have all your cards from France, for ours
+pay sixpence a pack taxes, which goes deep to the box.  I have given away
+all my Spa water, and take some nasty steel drops, and my head has been
+better this week past.  I send every day to see how Miss Ashe does: she
+is very full, they say, but in no danger.  I fear she will lose some of
+her beauty.  The son lies out of the house.  I wish he had them too,
+while he is so young.—Nite MD.
+
+18.  The Earl of Abingdon {510a} has been teasing me these three months
+to dine with him; and this day was appointed about a week ago, and I
+named my company; Lord Stawel, {510b} Colonel Disney, {510c} and Dr.
+Arbuthnot; but the two last slipped out their necks, and left Stawell and
+me to dine there.  We did not dine till seven, because it is Ash
+Wednesday.  We had nothing but fish, which Lord Stawell could not eat,
+and got a broiled leg of a turkey.  Our wine was poison; yet the puppy
+has twelve thousand pound a year.  His carps were raw, and his candles
+tallow.  He {510d} shall not catch me in haste again, and everybody has
+laughed at me for dining with him.  I was to-day to let Harrison’s mother
+know I could not pay till she administers; which she will do.  I believe
+she is an old bawd, {510e} and her daughter a —.  There were more Whigs
+to-day at Court than Tories.  I believe they think the peace must be
+made, and so come to please the Queen.  She is still lame with the gout.
+Nite MD.
+
+19.  I was at Court to-day, to speak to Lord Bolingbroke to look over
+Parnell’s poem since it is corrected; and Parnell and I dined with him,
+and he has shown him three or four more places to alter a little.  Lady
+Bolingbroke came down to us while we were at dinner, and Parnell stared
+at her as if she were a goddess.  I thought she was like Parnell’s wife,
+and he thought so too.  Parnell is much pleased with Lord Bolingbroke’s
+favour to him, and I hope it may one day turn to his advantage.  His poem
+will be printed in a few days.  Our weather continues as fresh raining as
+if it had not rained at all.  I sat to-night at Lady Masham’s, where Lord
+Treasurer came and scolded me for not dining with him.  I told him I
+could not till Saturday.  I have stayed there till past twelve.  So nite
+dee sollahs, nite.
+
+20.  Lady Jersey, Lady Catherine Hyde, {511a} the Spanish Ambassador, the
+Duke d’Atree, {511b} another Spaniard, and I, dined to-day by appointment
+with Lord Bolingbroke; but they fell a drinking so many Spanish healths
+in champagne that I stole away to the ladies, and drank tea till eight;
+and then went and lost my money at ombre with Sir Andrew Fountaine, who
+has a very bad leg.  Miss Ashe is past all danger; and her eye, which was
+lately bad (I suppose one effect of her distemper), is now better.  I do
+not let the Bishop see me, nor shall this good while.  Good luck! when I
+came home, I warrant, I found a letter from MD, No.38; and oo write so
+small nowadays, I hope oo poor eyes are better.  Well, this shall go
+to-morrow se’nnight, with a bill for MD.  I will speak to Mr. Griffin
+{511c} to-morrow about Ppt’s brother Filby, and desire, whether he
+deserves or no, that his employment may be mended; that is to say, if I
+can see Griffin; otherwise not; and I’ll answer oo rettle hen I Pdfr
+think fit.  Nite MD.
+
+21.  Methinks I writ a little saucy last night.  I mean the last . . .
+{511d} I saw Griffin at Court.  He says he knows nothing of a salt-work
+at Recton; but that he will give Filby a better employment, and desires
+Filby will write to him.  If I knew how to write to Filby, I would; but
+pray do you.  Bid him make no mention of you; but only let Mr. Griffin
+know that he has the honour to be recommended by Dr. S—, etc.; that he
+will endeavour to deserve, etc.; and if you dictated a whole letter for
+him, it would be better; I hope he can write and spell well.  I’ll
+inquire for a direction to Griffin before I finish this.  I dined with
+Lord Treasurer and seven lords to-day.  You know Saturday is his great
+day, but I sat with them alone till eight, and then came home, and have
+been writing a letter to Mrs. Davis, at York.  She took care to have a
+letter delivered for me at Lord Treasurer’s; for I would not own one she
+sent by post.  She reproaches me for not writing to her these four years;
+and I have honestly told her it was my way never to write to those whom I
+am never likely to see, unless I can serve them, which I cannot her, etc.
+Davis the schoolmaster’s widow.  Nite MD.
+
+22.  I dined to-day at Lord Orkney’s, with the Duke of Ormond and Sir
+Thomas Hanmer. {512}  Have you ever heard of the latter?  He married the
+Duchess of Grafton in his youth (she dined with us too).  He is the most
+considerable man in the House of Commons.  He went last spring to
+Flanders, with the Duke of Ormond; from thence to France, and was going
+to Italy; but the Ministry sent for him, and he has been come over about
+ten days.  He is much out of humour with things: he thinks the peace is
+kept off too long, and is full of fears and doubts.  It is thought he is
+designed for Secretary of State, instead of Lord Dartmouth.  We have been
+acquainted these two years; and I intend, in a day or two, to have an
+hour’s talk with him on affairs.  I saw the Bishop of Clogher at Court;
+Miss is recovering.  I know not how much she will be marked.  The Queen
+is slowly mending of her gout, and intends to be brought in a chair to
+Parliament when it meets, which will be March 3; for I suppose they will
+prorogue no more; yet the peace will not be signed then, and we apprehend
+the Tories themselves will many of them be discontented.  Nite dee MD.
+
+23.  It was ill weather to-day, and I dined with Sir Andrew Fountaine,
+and in the evening played at ombre with him and the Provost, and won
+twenty-five shillings; so I have recovered myself pretty well.  Dilly has
+been dunning me to see Fanny Manley; but I have not yet been able to do
+it.  Miss Ashe is now quite out of danger; and hope will not be much
+marked.  I cannot tell how to direct to Griffin; and think he lives in
+Bury Street, near St. James’s Street, hard by me; but I suppose your
+brother may direct to him to the Salt Office, and, as I remember, he
+knows his Christian name, because he sent it me in the list of the
+Commissioners.  Nite dee MD.
+
+24.  I walked this morning to Chelsea, to see Dr. Atterbury, Dean of
+Christ Church.  I had business with him about entering Mr. Fitzmaurice,
+{513a} my Lord Kerry’s son, into his College; and Lady Kerry {513b} is a
+great favourite of mine.  Lord Harley, Lord Dupplin, young Bromley {513c}
+the Speaker’s son, and I, dined with Dr. Stratford {513d} and some other
+clergymen; but I left them at seven to go to Lady Jersey, to see
+Monteleon the Spanish Ambassador play at ombre.  Lady Jersey was abroad,
+and I chid the servants, and made a rattle; but since I came home she
+sent me a message that I was mistaken, and that the meeting is to be
+to-morrow.  I have a worse memory than when I left you, and every day
+forget appointments; but here my memory was by chance too good.  But I’ll
+go to-morrow; for Lady Catherine Hyde and Lady Bolingbroke are to be
+there by appointment, and I listed {513e} up my periwig, and all, to make
+a figure.  Well, who can help it?  Not I, vow to . . . ! {513f}  Nite MD.
+
+25.  Lord Treasurer met me last night at Lord Masham’s, and thanked me
+for my company in a jeer, because I had not dined with him in three days.
+He chides me if I stay away but two days together.  What will this come
+to?  Nothing.  My grandmother used to say, “More of your lining, and less
+of your dining.”  However, I dined with him, and could hardly leave him
+at eight, to go to Lady Jersey’s, where five or six foreign Ministers
+were, and as many ladies.  Monteleon played like the English, and cried
+“gacco,” and knocked his knuckles for trump, and played at small games
+like Ppt.  Lady Jersey whispered me to stay and sup with the ladies when
+the fellows were gone; but they played till eleven, and I would not stay.
+I think this letter must go on Saturday; that’s certain; and it is not
+half full yet.  Lady Catherine Hyde had a mighty mind I should be
+acquainted with Lady Dalkeith, {514a} her sister, the Duke of Monmouth’s
+eldest son’s widow, who was of the company to-night; but I did not like
+her; she paints too much.  Nite MD.
+
+26.  This day our Society met at the Duke of Ormond’s, but I had business
+that called me another way; so I sent my excuses, and dined privately
+with a friend.  Besides, Sir Thomas Hanmer whispered me last night at
+Lady Jersey’s that I must attend Lord Treasurer and Duke of Ormond at
+supper at his house to-night; which I did at eleven, and stayed till one,
+so oo may be sure ’tis late enough.  There was the Duchess of Grafton,
+and the Duke her son; nine of us in all.  The Duke of Ormond chid me for
+not being at the Society to-day, and said sixteen were there.  I said I
+never knew sixteen people good company in my life; no, fais, nor eight
+either.  We have no news in this town at all.  I wonder why I don’t write
+you news.  I know less of what passes than anybody, because I go to
+{514b} no coffee-house, nor see any but Ministers, and such people; and
+Ministers never talk politics in conversation.  The Whigs are forming
+great schemes against the meeting of Parliament, which will be next
+Tuesday, I still think, without fail; and we hope to hear by then that
+the peace is ready to sign.  The Queen’s gout mends daily.  Nite MD.
+
+27.  I passed a very insipid day, and dined privately with a friend in
+the neighbourhood.  Did I tell you that I have a very fine picture of
+Lady Orkney, {515a} an original, by Sir Godfrey Kneller, three-quarters
+length?  I have it now at home, with a fine frame.  Lord Bolingbroke and
+Lady Masham have promised to sit for me; but I despair of Lord Treasurer;
+only I hope he will give me a copy, and then I shall have all the
+pictures of those I really love here; just half a dozen; only I’ll make
+Lord Keeper give me his print in a frame.  This letter must go to-morrow,
+because of sending ME a bill; else it should not till next week, I assure
+oo.  I have little to do now with my pen; for my grand business stops
+till they are more pressing, and till something or other happens; and I
+believe I shall return with disgust to finish it, it is so very
+laborious.  Sir Thomas Hanmer has my papers now.  And hat is MD doing
+now?  Oh, at ombre with the Dean always on Friday night, with Mrs. Walls.
+Pray don’t play at small games.  I stood by, t’other night, while the
+Duke d’Atree {515b} lost six times with manilio, basto, and three small
+trumps; and Lady Jersey won above twenty pounds.  Nite dee richar {515c}
+MD.
+
+28.  I was at Court to-day, when the Abbé Gaultier whispered me that a
+courier was just come with an account that the French King had consented
+to all the Queen’s demands, and his consent was carried to Utrecht, and
+the peace will be signed in a few days.  I suppose the general peace
+cannot be so soon ready; but that is no matter.  The news presently ran
+about the Court.  I saw the Queen carried out in her chair, to take the
+air in the garden.  I met Griffin at Court, and he told me that orders
+were sent to examine Filby; and, if he be fit, to make him (I think he
+called it) an assistant; I don’t know what, Supervisor, I think; but it
+is some employment a good deal better than his own.  The Parliament will
+have another short prorogation, though it is not known yet.  I dined with
+Lord Treasurer and his Saturday company, and left him at eight to put
+this in the post-office time enough.  And now I must bid oo farewell,
+deelest richar Ppt.  God bless oo ever, and rove Pdfr.  Farewell MD MD MD
+FW FW FW FW ME ME ME Lele Lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LXI. {516a}
+
+
+                                               LONDON, _March_ 1, 1712–13.
+
+’TIS out of my head whether I answered all your letter in my last
+yesterday or no.  I think I was in haste, and could not: but now I see I
+answered a good deal of it; no, only about your brother, and ME’s bill.
+I dined with Lady Orkney, and we talked politics till eleven at night;
+and, as usual, found everything wrong, and put ourselves out of humour.
+Yes, I have Lady Giffard’s picture sent me by your mother.  It is boxed
+up at a place where my other things are.  I have goods in two or three
+places; and when I leave a lodging, I box up the books I get (for I
+always get some), and come naked into a new lodging; and so on.  Talk not
+to me of deaneries; I know less of that than ever by much.  Nite MD.
+
+2.  I went to-day into the City to see Pat Rolt, {516b} who lodges with a
+City cousin, a daughter of coz Cleve; (you are much the wiser).  I had
+never been at her house before.  My he-coz Thompson the butcher is dead,
+or dying.  I dined with my printer, and walked home, and went to sit with
+Lady Clarges.  I found four of them at whist; Lady Godolphin {516c} was
+one.  I sat by her, and talked of her cards, etc., but she would not give
+me one look, nor say a word to me.  She refused some time ago to be
+acquainted with me.  You know she is Lord Marlborough’s eldest daughter.
+She is a fool for her pains, and I’ll pull her down.  What can I do for
+Dr. Smith’s daughter’s husband?  I have no personal credit with any of
+the Commissioners.  I’ll speak to Keatley; {517a} but I believe it will
+signify nothing.  In the Customs people must rise by degrees, and he must
+at first take what is very low, if he be qualified for that.  Ppt
+mistakes me; I am not angry at your recommending anyone to me, provided
+you will take my answer.  Some things are in my way, and then I serve
+those I can.  But people will not distinguish, but take things ill, when
+I have no power; but Ppt is wiser.  And employments in general are very
+hard to be got.  Nite MD.
+
+3.  I dined to-day with Lord Treasurer, who chid me for my absence, which
+was only from Saturday last.  The Parliament was again prorogued for a
+week, and I suppose the peace will be ready by then, and the Queen will
+be able to be brought to the House, and make her speech.  I saw Dr.
+Griffith {517b} two or three months ago, at a Latin play at Westminster;
+but did not speak to him.  I hope he will not die; I should be sorry for
+Ppt’s sake; he is very tender of her.  I have long lost all my colds, and
+the weather mends a little.  I take some steel drops, and my head is
+pretty well.  I walk when I can, but am grown very idle; and, not
+finishing my thing, I gamble {517c} abroad and play at ombre.  I shall be
+more careful in my physic than Mrs. Price: ’tis not a farthing matter her
+death, I think; and so I say no more to-night, but will read a dull book,
+and go sleep.  Nite dee MD.
+
+4.  Mr. Ford has been this half-year inviting me to dine at his lodgings:
+so I did to-day, and brought the Provost and Dr. Parnell with me, and my
+friend Lewis was there.  Parnell went away, and the other three played at
+ombre, and I looked on; which I love, and would not play.  Tisdall is a
+pretty fellow, as you say; and when I come back to Ireland with nothing,
+he will condole with me with abundance of secret pleasure.  I believe I
+told you what he wrote to me, that I have saved England, and he Ireland;
+{517d} but I can bear that.  I have learned to hear and see, and say
+nothing.  I was to see the Duchess of Hamilton to-day, and met Blith
+{518a} of Ireland just going out of her house into his coach.  I asked
+her how she came to receive young fellows.  It seems he had a ball in the
+Duke of Hamilton’s house when the Duke died; and the Duchess got an
+advertisement put in the _Postboy_, {518b} reflecting on the ball,
+because the Marlborough daughters {518c} were there; and Blith came to
+beg the Duchess’s pardon, and clear himself.  He’s a sad dog.  Nite poo
+dee deelest MD.
+
+5.  Lady Masham has miscarried; but is well almost again.  I have many
+visits to-day.  I met Blith at the Duke of Ormond’s; and he begged me to
+carry him to the Duchess of Hamilton, to beg her pardon again.  I did on
+purpose to see how the blunderbuss behaved himself; but I begged the
+Duchess to use him mercifully, for she is the devil of a teaser.  The
+good of it is, she ought to beg his pardon, for he meant no harm; yet she
+would not allow him to put in an advertisement to clear himself from
+hers, though hers was all a lie.  He appealed to me, and I gravely gave
+it against him.  I was at Court to-day, and the foreign Ministers have
+got a trick of employing me to speak for them to Lord Treasurer and Lord
+Bolingbroke; which I do when the case is reasonable.  The College {518d}
+need not fear; I will not be their Governor.  I dined with Sir Thomas
+Hanmer and his Duchess. {518e}  The Duke of Ormond was there, but we
+parted soon, and I went to visit Lord Pembroke for the first time; but it
+was to see some curious books.  Lord Cholmondeley {518f} came in; but I
+would not talk to him, though he made many advances.  I hate the
+scoundrel for all he is your Griffith’s friend.—Yes, yes, I am abused
+enough, if that be all.  Nite sollahs.
+
+6.  I was to-day at an auction of pictures with Pratt, {519a} and laid
+out two pound five shillings for a picture of Titian, and if it were a
+Titian it would be worth twice as many pounds.  If I am cheated, I’ll
+part with it to Lord Masham: if it be a bargain, I’ll keep it to myself.
+That’s my conscience.  But I made Pratt buy several pictures for Lord
+Masham.  Pratt is a great virtuoso that way.  I dined with Lord
+Treasurer, but made him go to Court at eight.  I always tease him to be
+gone.  I thought to have made Parnell dine with him, but he was ill; his
+head is out of order like mine, but more constant, poor boy!—I was at
+Lord Treasurer’s levee with the Provost, to ask a book for the College.—I
+never go to his levee, unless to present somebody.  For all oor rallying,
+saucy {519b} Ppt, as hope saved, I expected they would have decided about
+me long ago; and as hope saved, as soon as ever things are given away and
+I not provided for, I will be gone with the very first opportunity, and
+put up bag and baggage.  But people are slower than can be thought.  Nite
+MD.
+
+7.  Yes, I hope Leigh will soon be gone, a p— on him!  I met him once,
+and he talked gravely to me of not seeing the Irish bishops here, and the
+Irish gentlemen; but I believe my answers fretted him enough.  I would
+not dine with Lord Treasurer to-day, though it was Saturday (for he has
+engaged me for to-morrow), but went and dined with Lord Masham, and
+played at ombre, sixpenny running ombre, for three hours.  There were
+three voles {519c} against me, and I was once a great loser, but came off
+for three shillings and sixpence.  One may easily lose five guineas at
+it.  Lady Orkney is gone out of town to-day, and I could not see her for
+laziness, but writ to her.  She has left me some physic.  Fais, I never
+knew MD’s politics before, and I think it pretty extraordinary, and a
+great compliment to you, and I believe never three people conversed so
+much with so little politics.  I avoid all conversation with the other
+party; it is not to be borne, and I am sorry for it.  O yes, things [are]
+very dear.  DD must come in at last with DD’s two eggs a penny.  There
+the proverb was well applied.  Parvisol has sent me a bill of fifty
+pounds, as I ordered him, which, I hope, will serve me, and bring me
+over.  Pray God MD does not be delayed for it; but I have had very little
+from him this long time.  I was not at Court to-day; a wonder!  Nite
+sollahs . . . Pdfr.
+
+8.  Oo must know, I give chocolate almost every day to two or three
+people that I suffer to come to see me in a morning.  My man begins to
+lie pretty well.  ’Tis nothing for people to be denied ten times.  My man
+knows all I will see, and denies me to everybody else.  This is the day
+of the Queen’s coming to the Crown, and the day Lord Treasurer was
+stabbed by Guiscard.  I was at Court, where everybody had their Birthday
+clothes on, and I dined with Lord Treasurer, who was very fine.  He
+showed me some of the Queen’s speech, which I corrected in several
+places, and penned the vote of address of thanks for the speech; but I
+was of opinion the House should not sit on Tuesday next, unless they hear
+the peace is signed; that is, provided they are sure it will be signed
+the week after, and so have one scolding for all.  Nite MD.
+
+9.  Lord Treasurer would have had me dine with him to-day; he desired me
+last night, but I refused, because he would not keep the day of his
+stabbing with all the Cabinet, as he intended: so I dined with my friend
+Lewis; and the Provost and Parnell, and Ford, was with us.  I lost
+sixteen shillings at ombre; I don’t like it, as etc.  At night Lewis
+brought us word that the Parliament does not sit to-morrow.  I hope they
+are sure of the peace by next week, and then they are right in my
+opinion: otherwise I think they have done wrong, and might have sat three
+weeks ago.  People will grumble; but Lord Treasurer cares not a rush.
+Lord Keeper is suddenly taken ill of a quinsy, and some lords are
+commissioned, I think Lord Trevor, {520} to prorogue the Parliament in
+his stead.  You never saw a town so full of ferment and expectation.  Mr.
+Pope has published a fine poem, called _Windsor Forest_. {521a}  Read it.
+Nite.
+
+10.  I was early this morning to see Lord Bolingbroke.  I find he was of
+opinion the Parliament should sit; and says they are not sure the peace
+will be signed next week.  The prorogation is to this day se’nnight.  I
+went to look on a library I am going to buy, if we can agree.  I have
+offered a hundred and twenty pounds, and will give ten more.  Lord
+Bolingbroke will lend me the money.  I was two hours poring on the books.
+I will sell some of them, and keep the rest; but I doubt they won’t take
+the money.  I dined in the City, and sat an hour in the evening with Lord
+Treasurer, who was in very good humour; but reproached me for not dining
+with him yesterday and to-day.  What will all this come to?  Lord Keeper
+had a pretty good night, and is better.  I was in pain for him.  How do
+oo do sollahs? . . . Nite MD. {521b}
+
+11.  I was this morning to visit the Duke and Duchess of Ormond, and the
+Duchess of Hamilton, and went with the Provost to an auction of pictures,
+and laid out fourteen shillings.  I am in for it, if I had money; but I
+doubt I shall be undone; for Sir Andrew Fountaine invited the Provost and
+me to dine with him, and play at ombre, when I fairly lost fourteen
+shillings.  Fais, it won’t do; and I shall be out of conceit with play
+this good while.  I am come home; and it is late, and my puppy let out my
+fire, and I am gone to bed and writing there, and it is past twelve a
+good while.  Went out four matadores and a trump in black, and was
+bested.  Vely bad, fais! Nite my deelest logues MD.
+
+12.  I was at another auction of pictures to-day, and a great auction it
+was.  I made Lord Masham lay out forty pounds.  There were pictures sold
+of twice as much value apiece.  Our Society met to-day at the Duke of
+Beaufort’s: a prodigious fine dinner, which I hate; but we did some
+business.  Our printer was to attend us, as usual; and the Chancellor of
+the Exchequer sent the author of the _Examiner_ {522a} twenty guineas.
+He is an ingenious fellow, but the most confounded vain coxcomb in the
+world, so that I dare not let him see me, nor am acquainted with him.  I
+had much discourse with the Duke of Ormond this morning, and am driving
+some points to secure us all in case of accidents, etc. {522b}  I left
+the Society at seven.  I can’t drink now at all with any pleasure.  I
+love white Portugal wine better than claret, champagne, or burgundy.  I
+have a sad vulgar appetite.  I remember Ppt used to maunder, when I came
+from a great dinner, and DD had but a bit of mutton.  I cannot endure
+above one dish; nor ever could since I was a boy, and loved stuffing.  It
+was a fine day, which is a rarity with us, I assure [you].  Never fair
+two days together.  Nite dee MD.
+
+13.  I had a rabble of Irish parsons this morning drinking my chocolate.
+I cannot remember appointments.  I was to have supped last night with the
+Swedish Envoy at his house, and some other company, but forgot it; and he
+rallied me to-day at Lord Bolingbroke’s, who excused me, saying, the
+Envoy ought not to be angry, because I serve Lord Treasurer and him the
+same way.  For that reason, I very seldom promise to go anywhere.  I
+dined with Lord Treasurer, who chid me for being absent so long, as he
+always does if I miss a day.  I sat three hours this evening with Lady
+Jersey; but the first two hours she was at ombre with some company.  I
+left Lord Treasurer at eight: I fancied he was a little thoughtful, for
+he was playing with an orange by fits, which, I told him, among common
+men looked like the spleen.  This letter shall not go to-morrow; no
+haste, ung oomens; nothing that presses.  I promised but once in three
+weeks, and I am better than my word.  I wish the peace may be ready, I
+mean that we have notice it is signed, before Tuesday; otherwise the
+grumbling will much increase.  Nite logues.
+
+14.  It was a lovely day this, and I took the advantage of walking a good
+deal in the Park, before I went to Court.  Colonel Disney, one of our
+Society, is ill of a fever, and, we fear, in great danger.  We all love
+him mightily, and he would be a great loss.  I doubt I shall not buy the
+library; for a roguey bookseller has offered sixty pounds more than I
+designed to give; so you see I meant to have a good bargain.  I dined
+with Lord Treasurer and his Saturday company; but there were but seven at
+table.  Lord Peterborrow is ill, and spits blood, with a bruise he got
+before he left England; but, I believe, an Italian lady he has brought
+over is the cause that his illness returns.  You know old Lady Bellasis
+{523a} is dead at last?  She has left Lord Berkeley of Stratton {523b}
+one of her executors, and it will be of great advantage to him; they say
+above ten thousand pounds.  I stayed with Lord Treasurer upon business,
+after the company was gone; but I dare not tell you upon what.  My
+letters would be good memoirs, if I durst venture to say a thousand
+things that pass; but I hear so much of letters opening at your
+post-office that I am fearful, etc., and so good-nite, sollahs, rove
+Pdfr, MD.
+
+15.  Lord Treasurer engaged me to dine with him again to-day, and I had
+ready what he wanted; but he would not see it, but put me off till
+to-morrow.  The Queen goes to chapel now.  She is carried in an open
+chair, and will be well enough to go to Parliament on Tuesday, if the
+Houses meet, which is not yet certain; neither, indeed, can the Ministers
+themselves tell; for it depends on winds and weather, and circumstances
+of negotiation.  However, we go on as if it was certainly to meet; and I
+am to be at Lord Treasurer’s to-morrow, upon that supposition, to settle
+some things relating that way.  Ppt {524a} may understand me.  The
+doctors tell me that if poor Colonel Disney does not get some sleep
+to-night, he must die.  What care you?  Ah! but I do care.  He is one of
+our Society; a fellow of abundance of humour; an old battered rake, but
+very honest, not an old man, but an old rake.  It was he that said of
+Jenny Kingdom, {524b} the maid of honour, who is a little old, that,
+since she could not get a husband, the Queen should give her a brevet to
+act as a married woman.  You don’t understand this.  They give brevets to
+majors and captains to act as colonels in the army.  Brevets are
+commissions.  Ask soldiers, dull sollahs.  Nite MD.
+
+16.  I was at Lord Treasurer’s before he came; and, as he entered, he
+told me the Parliament was prorogued till Thursday se’nnight.  They have
+had some expresses, by which they count that the peace may be signed by
+that time; at least, that France, Holland, and we, will sign some
+articles, by which we shall engage to sign the peace when it is ready:
+but Spain has no Minister there; for Monteleon, who is to be their
+Ambassador at Utrecht, is not yet gone from hence; and till he is there,
+the Spaniards can sign no peace: and [of] one thing take notice, that a
+general peace can hardly be finished these two months, so as to be
+proclaimed here; for, after signing, it must be ratified; that is,
+confirmed by the several princes at their Courts, which to Spain will
+cost a month; for we must have notice that it is ratified in all Courts
+before we can proclaim it.  So be not in too much haste.  Nite MD.
+
+17.  The Irish folks were disappointed that the Parliament did not meet
+to-day, because it was St. Patrick’s Day; and the Mall was so full of
+crosses that I thought all the world was Irish.  Miss Ashe is almost
+quite well, and I see the Bishop, but shall not yet go to his house.  I
+dined again with Lord Treasurer; but the Parliament being prorogued, I
+must keep what I have till next week: for I believe he will not see it
+till just the evening before the session.  He has engaged me to dine with
+him again to-morrow, though I did all I could to put it off; but I don’t
+care to disoblige him.  Nite dee sollahs ’tis late.  Nite MD.
+
+18.  I have now dined six days successively with Lord Treasurer; but
+to-night I stole away while he was talking with somebody else, and so am
+at liberty to-morrow.  There was a flying report of a general cessation
+of arms: everybody had it at Court; but, I believe, there is nothing in
+it.  I asked a certain French Minister how things went.  And he whispered
+me in French, “Your Plenipotentiaries and ours play the fool.”  None of
+us, indeed, approve of the conduct of either at this time; but Lord
+Treasurer was in full good-humour for all that.  He had invited a good
+many of his relations; and, of a dozen at table, they were all of the
+Harley family but myself.  Disney is recovering, though you don’t care a
+straw.  Dilly murders us with his _if_ puns.  You know them. . . . {525a}
+Nite MD.
+
+19.  The Bishop of Clogher has made an _if_ pun that he is mighty proud
+of, and designs to send it over to his brother Tom.  But Sir Andrew
+Fountaine has wrote to Tom Ashe last post, and told him the pun, and
+desired him to send it over to the Bishop as his own; and, if it
+succeeds, ’twill be a pure bite.  The Bishop will tell it us as a wonder
+that he and his brother should jump so exactly.  I’ll tell you the
+pun:—If there was a hackney coach at Mr. Pooley’s {525b} door, what town
+in Egypt would it be?  Why, it would be Hecatompolis; _Hack at Tom
+Pooley’s_.  “Sillly,” says Ppt.  I dined with a private friend to-day;
+for our Society, I told you, meet but once a fortnight.  I have not seen
+Fanny Manley yet; I can’t help it.  Lady Orkney is come to town: why, she
+was at her country house; hat {526a} care you?  Nite darling (?) dee MD.
+
+20.  Dilly read me a letter to-day from Ppt.  She seems to have scratched
+her head when she writ it.  ’Tis a sad thing to write to people without
+tact.  There you say, you hear I was going to Bath.  No such thing; I am
+pretty well, I thank God.  The town is now sending me to Savoy. {526b}
+Forty people have given me joy of it, yet there is not the least truth
+that I know in it.  I was at an auction of pictures, but bought none.  I
+was so glad of my liberty, that I would dine nowhere; but, the weather
+being fine, I sauntered into the City, and ate a bit about five, and then
+supped at Mr. Burke’s {526c} your Accountant-General, who had been
+engaging me this month.  The Bishop of Clogher was to have been there,
+but was hindered by Lord Paget’s {526d} funeral.  The Provost and I sat
+till one o’clock; and, if that be not late, I don’t know what is late.
+Parnell’s poem will be published on Monday, and to-morrow I design he
+shall present it to Lord Treasurer and Lord Bolingbroke at Court.  The
+poor lad is almost always out of order with his head.  Burke’s wife is
+his sister.  She has a little of the pert Irish way.  Nite MD.
+
+21.  Morning.  I will now finish my letter; for company will come, and a
+stir, and a clutter; and I’ll keep the letter in my pottick, {526e} and
+give it into the post myself.  I must go to Court, and you know on
+Saturdays I dine with Lord Treasurer, of course.  Farewell, deelest MD MD
+MD, FW FW FW, MD ME ME ME Lele sollahs. {526f}
+
+
+
+LETTER LXII. {527a}
+
+
+                                              LONDON, _March_ 21, 1712–13.
+
+I GAVE your letter in this night.  I dined with Lord Treasurer to-day,
+and find he has been at a meeting at Lord Halifax’s house, with four
+principal Whigs; but he is resolved to begin a speech against them when
+the Parliament sits; and I have begged that the Ministers may have a
+meeting on purpose to settle that matter, and let us be the attackers;
+and I believe it will come to something, for the Whigs intend to attack
+the Ministers: and if, instead of that, the Ministers attack the Whigs,
+it will be better: and farther, I believe we shall attack them on those
+very points they intend to attack us.  The Parliament will be again
+prorogued for a fortnight, because of Passion Week.  I forgot to tell you
+that Mr. Griffin has given Ppt’s brother {527b} a new employment, about
+ten pounds a year better than his former; but more remote, and
+consequently cheaper.  I wish I could have done better, and hope oo will
+take what can be done in good part, and that oo brother will not dislike
+it.—Nite own dear . . . MD.
+
+22.  I dined to-day with Lord Steward. {527c}  There Frank Annesley
+{527d} (a Parliament-man) told me he had heard that I had wrote to my
+friends in Ireland to keep firm to the Whig interest; for that Lord
+Treasurer would certainly declare for it after the peace.  Annesley said
+twenty people had told him this.  You must know this is what they
+endeavour to report of Lord Treasurer, that he designs to declare for the
+Whigs; and a Scotch fellow has wrote the same to Scotland; and his
+meeting with those lords gives occasion to such reports.  Let me
+henceforth call Lord Treasurer Eltee, because possibly my letters may be
+opened.  Pray remember Eltee.  You know the reason; L. T. and Eltee
+pronounced the same way.  Stay, ’tis five weeks since I had a letter from
+MD.  I allow you six.  You see why I cannot come over the beginning of
+April; whoever has to do with this Ministry can fix no time: but as
+{528a} hope saved, it is not Pdfr’s fault.  Pay don’t blame poo Pdfr.
+Nite deelest logues MD. {528b}
+
+23.  I dined to-day at Sir Thomas Hanmer’s, by an old appointment: there
+was the Duke of Ormond, and Lord and Lady Orkney.  I left them at six.
+Everybody is as sour as vinegar.  I endeavour to keep a firm friendship
+between the Duke of Ormond and Eltee.  (Oo know who Eltee is, or have oo
+fordot already?)  I have great designs, if I can compass them; but delay
+is rooted in Eltee’s heart; yet the fault is not altogether there, that
+things are no better.  Here is the cursedest libel in verse come out that
+ever was seen, called _The Ambassadress_; {528c} it is very dull, too; it
+has been printed three or four different ways, and is handed about, but
+not sold.  It abuses the Queen horribly.  The _Examiner_ has cleared me
+to-day of being author of his paper, and done it with great civilities to
+me. {528d}  I hope it will stop people’s mouths; if not, they must go on
+and be hanged, I care not.  ’Tis terribly rainy weather, I’ll go sleep.
+Nite deelest MD.
+
+24.  It rained all this day, and ruined me in coach-hire.  I went to
+Colonel Disney, who is past danger.  Then I visited Lord Keeper, who was
+at dinner; but I would not dine with him, but drove to Lord Treasurer
+(Eltee I mean), paid the coachman, and went in; but he dined abroad: so I
+was forced to call the coachman again, and went to Lord Bolingbroke’s.
+He dined abroad too; and at Lord Dupplin’s I alighted, and by good luck
+got a dinner there, and then went to the Latin play at Westminster
+School, acted by the boys; and Lord Treasurer (Eltee I mean again)
+honoured them with his presence.  Lady Masham’s eldest son, about two
+years old, is ill, and I am afraid will not live: she is full of grief,
+and I pity and am angry with her.  Four shillings to-day in coach-hire;
+fais, it won’t do.  Our peace will certainly be ready by Thursday
+fortnight; but our Plenipotentiaries were to blame that it was not done
+already.  They thought their powers were not full enough to sign the
+peace, unless every Prince was ready, which cannot yet be; for Spain has
+no Minister yet at Utrecht; but now ours have new orders.  Nite MD.
+
+25.  Weather worse than ever; terrible rain all day, but I was resolved I
+would spend no more money.  I went to an auction of pictures with Dr.
+Pratt, and there met the Duke of Beaufort, who promised to come with me
+to Court, but did not.  So a coach I got, and went to Court, and did some
+little business there, but was forced to go home; for oo must understand
+I take a little physic over-night, which works me next day.  Lady Orkney
+is my physician.  It is hiera picra, {529a} two spoonfuls, devilish
+stuff!  I thought to have dined with Eltee, but would not, merely to save
+a shilling; but I dined privately with a friend, and played at ombre, and
+won six shillings.  Here are several people of quality lately dead of the
+smallpox.  I have not yet seen Miss Ashe, but hear she is well.  The
+Bishop of Clogher has bought abundance of pictures, and Dr. Pratt has got
+him very good pennyworths. {529b}  I can get no walks, the weather is so
+bad.  Is it so with oo, sollahs? . . . {529c}
+
+26.  Though it was shaving-day, head and beard, yet I was out early to
+see Lord Bolingbroke, and talk over affairs with him; and then I went to
+the Duke of Ormond’s, and so to Court, where the Ministers did not come,
+because the Parliament was prorogued till this day fortnight.  We had
+terrible rain and hail to-day.  Our Society met this day, but I left them
+before seven, and went to Sir A[ndrew] F[ountaine], and played at ombre
+with him and Sir Thomas Clarges, till ten, and then went to Sir Thomas
+Hanmer.  His wife, the Duchess of Grafton, left us after a little while,
+and I stayed with him about an hour, upon some affairs, etc.  Lord
+Bolingbroke left us at the Society before I went; for there is an express
+from Utrecht, but I know not yet what it contains; only I know the
+Ministers expect the peace will be signed in a week, which is a week
+before the session.  Nite, MD.
+
+27.  Parnell’s poem is mightily esteemed; but poetry sells ill.  I am
+plagued with that . . . {530a} poor Harrison’s mother; you would laugh to
+see how cautious I am of paying her the £100 I received for her son from
+the Treasury.  I have asked every creature I know whether I may do it
+safely, yet durst not venture, till my Lord Keeper assured me there was
+no danger.  I have not paid her, but will in a day or two: though I have
+a great mind to stay till Ppt sends me her opinion, because Ppt is a
+great lawyer.  I dined to-day with a mixture of people at a Scotchman’s,
+who made the invitation to Mr. Lewis and me, and has some design upon us,
+which we know very well.  I went afterwards to see a famous moving
+picture, {530b} and I never saw anything so pretty.  You see a sea ten
+miles wide, a town on t’other end, and ships sailing in the sea, and
+discharging their cannon.  You see a great sky, with moon and stars, etc.
+I’m a fool.  Nite, dee MD.
+
+28.  I had a mighty levee to-day.  I deny myself to everybody, except
+about half a dozen, and they were all here, and Mr. Addison was one, and
+I had chocolate twice, which I don’t like.  Our rainy weather continues.
+Coach-hire goes deep.  I dined with Eltee and his Saturday company, as
+usual, and could not get away till nine.  Lord Peterborow was making long
+harangues, and Eltee kept me in spite.  Then I went to see the Bishop of
+Ossory, who had engaged me in the morning; he is going to Ireland.  The
+Bishop of Killaloe {531a} and Tom Leigh was with us.  The latter had
+wholly changed his style, by seeing how the bishops behaved themselves,
+and he seemed to think me one of more importance than I really am.  I put
+the ill conduct of the bishops about the First-Fruits, with relation to
+Eltee and me, strongly upon Killaloe, and showed how it had hindered me
+from getting a better thing for them, called the Crown rents, which the
+Queen had promised.  He had nothing to say, but was humble, and desired
+my interest in that and some other things.  This letter is half done in a
+week: I believe oo will have it next.  Nite MD.
+
+29.  I have been employed in endeavouring to save one of your junior
+Fellows, {531b} who came over here for a dispensation from taking orders,
+and, in soliciting it, has run out his time, and now his fellowship is
+void, if the College pleases, unless the Queen suspends the execution,
+and gives him time to take orders.  I spoke to all the Ministers
+yesterday about it; but they say the Queen is angry, and thought it was a
+trick to deceive her; and she is positive, and so the man must be ruined,
+for I cannot help him.  I never saw him in my life; but the case was so
+hard, I could not forbear interposing.  Your Government recommended him
+to the Duke of Ormond, and he thought they would grant it; and by the
+time it was refused, the fellowship by rigour is forfeited.  I dined with
+Dr. Arbuthnot (one of my brothers) at his lodgings in Chelsea, and was
+there at chapel; and the altar put me in mind of Tisdall’s outlandish
+would {531c} at your hospital for the soldiers.  I was not at Court
+to-day, and I hear the Queen was not at church.  Perhaps the gout has
+seized her again.  Terrible rain all day.  Have oo such weather?  Nite
+MD.
+
+30.  Morning.  I was naming some time ago, to a certain person, another
+certain person, that was very deserving, and poor and sickly; and
+t’other, that first certain person, gave me a hundred pounds to give the
+other, which I have not yet done.  The person who is to have it never saw
+the giver, nor expects one farthing, nor has the least knowledge or
+imagination of it; so I believe it will be a very agreeable surprise; for
+I think it is a handsome present enough.  At night I dined in the City,
+at Pontack’s, {532a} with Lord Dupplin, and some others.  We were treated
+by one Colonel Cleland, {532b} who has a mind to be Governor of Barbados,
+and is laying these long traps for me and others, to engage our interests
+for him.  He is a true Scotchman.  I paid the hundred pounds this
+evening, and it was an agreeable surprise to the receiver.  We reckon the
+peace is now signed, and that we shall have it in three days.  I believe
+it is pretty sure.  Nite MD.
+
+31.  I thought to-day on Ppt when she told me she suppose[d] I was
+acquainted with the steward, when I was giving myself airs of being at
+some lord’s house.  Sir Andrew Fountaine invited the Bishop of Clogher
+and me, and some others, to dine where he did; and he carried us to the
+Duke of Kent’s, {532c} who was gone out of town; but the steward treated
+us nobly, and showed us the fine pictures, etc.  I have not yet seen Miss
+Ashe.  I wait till she has been abroad, and taken the air.  This evening
+Lady Masham, Dr. Arbuthnot, and I, were contriving a lie for to-morrow,
+that Mr. Noble, {533a} who was hanged last Saturday, was recovered by his
+friends, and then seized again by the sheriff, and is now in a
+messenger’s hands at the Black Swan in Holborn.  We are all to send to
+our friends, to know whether they have heard anything of it, and so we
+hope it will spread.  However, we shall do our endeavours; nothing shall
+be wanting on our parts, and leave the rest to fortune.  Nite MD.
+
+April 1.  We had no success in our story, though I sent my man to several
+houses, to inquire among the footmen, without letting him into the
+secret; but I doubt my colleagues did not contribute as they ought.
+Parnell and I dined with Darteneuf {533b} to-day.  You have heard of
+Darteneuf: I have told you of Darteneuf.  After dinner we all went to
+Lord Bolingbroke’s, who had desired me to dine with him; but I would not,
+because I heard it was to look over a dull poem of one parson Trapp
+{533c} upon the peace.  The Swedish Envoy told me to-day at Court that he
+was in great apprehensions about his master; {533d} and indeed we are
+afraid that prince has {533e} died among those Turkish dogs.  I prevailed
+on Lord Bolingbroke to invite Mr. Addison to dine with him on Good
+Friday.  I suppose we shall be mighty mannerly.  Addison is to have a
+play of his acted on Friday in Easter Week: ’tis a tragedy, called
+_Cato_; I saw it unfinished some years ago. {533f}  Did I tell you that
+Steele has begun a new daily paper, called the _Guardian_? {533g} they
+say good for nothing.  I have not seen it.  Nite dee MD.
+
+2.  I was this morning with Lord Bolingbroke, and he tells me a Spanish
+courier is just come, with the news that the King of Spain has agreed to
+everything that the Queen desires; and the Duke d’Ossuna has left Paris
+in order to his journey to Utrecht.  I was prevailed on to come home with
+Trapp, and read his poem and correct it; but it was good for nothing.
+While I was thus employed, Sir Thomas Hanmer came up to my chamber, and
+balked me of a journey he and I intended this week to Lord Orkney’s at
+Cliffden; {534a} but he is not well, and his physician will not let him
+undertake such a journey.  I intended to dine with Lord Treasurer; but
+going to see Colonel Disney, who lives with General Withers, {534b} I
+liked the General’s little dinner so well, that I stayed and took share
+of it, and did not go to Lord Treasurer till six, where I found Dr.
+Sacheverell, who told us that the bookseller had given him £100 for his
+sermon, {534c} preached last Sunday, and intended to print 30,000: I
+believe he will be confoundedly bit, and will hardly sell above half.  I
+have fires still, though April has begun, against my old maxim; but the
+weather is wet and cold.  I never saw such a long run of ill weather in
+my life.  Nite dee logues MD.
+
+3.  I was at the Queen’s chapel to-day, but she was not there.  Mr. St.
+John, Lord Bolingbroke’s brother, came this day at noon with an express
+from Utrecht, that the peace is signed by all the Ministers there, but
+those of the Emperor, who will likewise sign in a few days; so that now
+the great work is in effect done, and I believe it will appear a most
+excellent peace for Europe, particularly for England.  Addison and I, and
+some others, dined with Lord Bolingbroke, and sat with him till twelve.
+We were very civil, but yet when we grew warm, we talked in a friendly
+manner of party.  Addison raised his objections, and Lord Bolingbroke
+answered them with great complaisance.  Addison began Lord Somers’s
+health, which went about; but I bid him not name Lord Wharton’s, for I
+would not pledge it; and I told Lord Bolingbroke frankly that Addison
+loved Lord Wharton as little as I did: so we laughed, etc.  Well, but you
+are glad of the peace, you Ppt the Trimmer, are not you?  As for DD I
+don’t doubt her.  Why, now, if I did not think Ppt had been a violent
+Tory, and DD the greater Whig of the two!  ’Tis late.  Nite MD.
+
+4.  This Passion Week, people are so demure, especially this last day,
+that I told Dilly, who called here, that I would dine with him, and so I
+did, faith; and had a small shoulder of mutton of my own bespeaking.  It
+rained all day.  I came home at seven, and have never stirred out, but
+have been reading Sacheverell’s long dull sermon, which he sent me.  It
+is the first sermon since his suspension is expired; but not a word in it
+upon the occasion, except two or three remote hints.  The Bishop of
+Clogher has been sadly bit by Tom Ashe, who sent him a pun, which the
+Bishop had made, and designed to send to him, but delayed it; and Lord
+Pembroke and I made Sir Andrew Fountaine write it to Tom.  I believe I
+told you of it in my last; it succeeded right, and the Bishop was
+wondering to Lord Pembroke how he and his brother could hit on the same
+thing.  I’ll go to bed soon, for I must be at church by eight to-morrow,
+Easter Day.  Nite dee MD.
+
+5.  Warburton {535a} wrote to me two letters about a living of one
+Foulkes, who is lately dead in the county of Meath.  My answer is, that
+before I received the first letter, General Gorges {535b} had recommended
+a friend of his to the Duke of Ormond, which was the first time I heard
+of its vacancy, and it was the Provost told me of it.  I believe verily
+that Foulkes was not dead when Gorges recommended the other: for
+Warburton’s last letter said that Foulkes was dead the day before the
+date.—This has prevented me from serving Warburton, as I would have done,
+if I had received early notice enough.  Pray say or write this to
+Warburton, to justify me to him.  I was at church at eight this morning,
+and dressed and shaved after I came back, but was too late at Court; and
+Lord Abingdon {536a} was like to have snapped me for dinner, and I
+believe will fall out with me for refusing him; but I hate dining with
+them, and I dined with a private friend, and took two or three good
+walks; for it was a very fine day, the first we have had a great while.
+Remember, was Easter Day a fine day with you?  I have sat with Lady
+Worsley till now.  Nite dee MD.
+
+6.  I was this morning at ten at the rehearsal of Mr. Addison’s play,
+called Cato, which is to be acted on Friday.  There were not above half a
+score of us to see it.  We stood on the stage, and it was foolish enough
+to see the actors prompted every moment, and the poet directing them; and
+the drab that acts Cato’s daughter, {536b} out in the midst of a
+passionate part, and then calling out, “What’s next?”  The Bishop of
+Clogher was there too; but he stood privately in a gallery.  I went to
+dine with Lord Treasurer, but he was gone to Wimbledon, his daughter
+Caermarthen’s {536c} country seat, seven miles off.  So I went back, and
+dined privately with Mr. Addison, whom I had left to go to Lord
+Treasurer.  I keep fires yet; I am very extravagant.  I sat this evening
+with Sir A. Fountaine, and we amused ourselves with making _ifs_ for
+Dilly.  It is rainy weather again; nevle saw ze rike. {536d}  This letter
+shall go to-morrow; remember, ung oomens, it is seven weeks since oor
+last, and I allow oo but five weeks; but oo have been galloping into the
+country to Swanton’s. {536e}  O pray tell Swanton I had his letter, but
+cannot contrive how to serve him.  If a Governor were to go over, I would
+recommend him as far as lay in my power, but I can do no more: and you
+know all employments in Ireland, at least almost all, are engaged in
+reversions.  If I were on the spot, and had credit with a Lord
+Lieutenant, I would very heartily recommend him; but employments here are
+no more in my power than the monarchy itself.  Nite, dee MD.
+
+7.  Morning.  I have had a visitor here, that has taken up my time.  I
+have not been abroad, oo may be sure; so I can say nothing to-day, but
+that I rove MD bettle zan ever, if possibbere.  I will put this in the
+post-office; so I say no more.  I write by this post to the Dean, but it
+is not above two lines; and one enclosed to you, but that enclosed to you
+is not above three lines; and then one enclosed to the Dean, which he
+must not have but upon condition of burning it immediately after reading,
+and that before your eyes; for there are some things in it I would not
+have liable to accident.  You shall only know in general that it is an
+account of what I have done to serve him in his pretensions on these
+vacancies, etc.  But he must not know that you know so much. {537a}  Does
+this perplex you?  Hat care I?  But rove Pdfr, saucy Pdfr.  Farewell,
+deelest MD MD MD FW FW FW, . . . ME, MD Lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LXIII. {537b}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _April_ 7, 1713.
+
+I FANCY I marked my last, which I sent this day, wrong; only 61, and it
+ought to be 62.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, and though the business I
+had with him is something against Thursday, when the Parliament is to
+meet, and this is Tuesday, yet he put it off till to-morrow.  I dare not
+tell you what it is, lest this letter should miscarry or be opened; but I
+never saw his fellow for delays.  The Parliament will now certainly sit,
+and everybody’s expectations are ready to burst.  At a Council to-night
+the Lord Chief-Justice Parker, a Whig, spoke against the peace; so did
+Lord Chomley, {538a} another Whig, who is Treasurer of the Household.  My
+Lord Keeper {538b} was this night made Lord Chancellor.  We hope there
+will soon be some removes.  Nite, dee sollahs; Late.  Rove Pdfr. {538c}
+
+8.  Lord Chomley (the right name is Cholmondeley) is this day removed
+from his employment, for his last night’s speech; and Sir Richard Temple,
+{538d} Lieutenant-General, the greatest Whig in the army, is turned out;
+and Lieutenant-General Palmes {538e} will be obliged to sell his
+regiment.  This is the first-fruits of a friendship I have established
+between two great men.  I dined with Lord Treasurer, and did the business
+I had for him to his satisfaction.  I won’t tell MD what it was. . . .
+{538f} for zat.  The Parliament sits to-morrow for certain.  Here is a
+letter printed in Maccartney’s name, vindicating himself from the murder
+of the Duke of Hamilton.  I must give some hints to have it answered;
+’tis full of lies, and will give an opportunity of exposing that party.
+To morrow will be a very important day.  All the world will be at
+Westminster.  Lord Treasurer is as easy as a lamb.  They are mustering up
+the proxies of the absent lords; but they are not in any fear of wanting
+a majority, which death and accidents have increased this year.  Nite MD.
+
+9.  I was this morning with Lord Treasurer, to present to him a young son
+{538g} of the late Earl of Jersey, at the desire of the widow.  There I
+saw the mace and great coach ready for Lord Treasurer, who was going to
+Parliament.  Our Society met to-day; but I expected the Houses would sit
+longer than I cared to fast; so I dined with a friend, and never inquired
+how matters went till eight this evening, when I went to Lord Orkney’s,
+where I found Sir Thomas Hanmer.  The Queen delivered her speech very
+well, but a little weaker in her voice.  The crowd was vast.  The order
+for the Address {539a} was moved, and opposed by Lord Nottingham,
+Halifax, and Cowper.  Lord Treasurer spoke with great spirit and
+resolution; Lord Peterborow flirted {539b} against the Duke of
+Marlborough (who is in Germany, you know), but it was in answer to one of
+Halifax’s impertinences.  The order for an Address passed by a majority
+of thirty-three, and the Houses rose before six.  This is the account I
+heard at Lord Orkney’s.  The Bishop of Chester, {539c} a high Tory, was
+against the Court.  The Duchess of Marlborough sent for him some months
+ago, to justify herself to him in relation to the Queen, and showed him
+letters, and told him stories, which the weak man believed, and was
+perverted.  Nite MD.
+
+10.  I dined with a cousin in the City, and poor Pat Rolt was there.  I
+have got her rogue of a husband leave to come to England from Port-Mahon.
+The Whigs are much down; but I reckon they have some scheme in agitation.
+This Parliament-time hinders our Court meetings on Wednesdays, Thursdays,
+and Saturdays.  I had a great deal of business to-night, which gave me a
+temptation to be idle, and I lost a dozen shillings at ombre, with Dr.
+Pratt and another.  I have been to see t’other day the Bishop of Clogher
+and lady, but did not see Miss.  It rains every day, and yet we are all
+over dust.  Lady Masham’s eldest boy is very ill: I doubt he will not
+live, and she stays at Kensington to nurse him, which vexes us all.  She
+is so excessively fond, it makes me mad.  She should never leave the
+Queen, but leave everything, to stick to what is so much the interest of
+the public, as well as her own.  This I tell her; but talk to the winds.
+Nite MD.
+
+11.  I dined at Lord Treasurer’s, with his Saturday company.  We had ten
+at table, all lords but myself and the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
+Argyle went off at six, and was in very indifferent humour as usual.
+Duke of Ormond and Lord Bolingbroke were absent.  I stayed till near ten.
+Lord Treasurer showed us a small picture, enamelled work, and set in
+gold, worth about twenty pounds; a picture, I mean, of the Queen, which
+she gave to the Duchess of Marlborough, set in diamonds.  When the
+Duchess was leaving England, she took off all the diamonds, and gave the
+picture to one Mrs. Higgins (an old intriguing woman, whom everybody
+knows), bidding her make the best of it she could.  Lord Treasurer sent
+to Mrs. Higgins for this picture, and gave her a hundred pounds for it.
+Was ever such an ungrateful beast as that Duchess? or did you ever hear
+such a story?  I suppose the Whigs will not believe it.  Pray, try them.
+Takes off the diamonds, and gives away the picture to an insignificant
+woman, as a thing of no consequence: and gives it to her to sell, like a
+piece of old-fashioned plate.  Is she not a detestable slut?  Nite
+deelest MD.
+
+12.  I went to Court to-day, on purpose to present Mr. Berkeley, {540}
+one of your Fellows of Dublin College, to Lord Berkeley of Stratton.
+That Mr. Berkeley is a very ingenious man, and great philosopher, and I
+have mentioned him to all the Ministers, and given them some of his
+writings; and I will favour him as much as I can.  This I think I am
+bound to, in honour and conscience, to use all my little credit toward
+helping forward men of worth in the world.  The Queen was at chapel
+to-day, and looks well.  I dined at Lord Orkney’s with the Duke of
+Ormond, Lord Arran, and Sir Thomas Hanmer.  Mr. St. John, Secretary at
+Utrecht, expects every moment to return there with the ratification of
+the peace.  Did I tell you in my last of Addison’s play called Cato, and
+that I was at the rehearsal of it?  Nite MD.
+
+13.  This morning my friend, Mr. Lewis, came to me, and showed me an
+order for a warrant for the three vacant deaneries; but none of them to
+me.  This was what I always foresaw, and received the notice of it
+better, I believe, than he expected.  I bid Mr. Lewis tell Lord Treasurer
+that I took nothing ill of him but his not giving me timely notice, as he
+promised to do, if he found the Queen would do nothing for me.  At noon,
+Lord Treasurer hearing I was in Mr. Lewis’s office, came to me, and said
+many things too long to repeat.  I told him I had nothing to do but go to
+Ireland immediately; for I could not, with any reputation, stay longer
+here, unless I had something honourable immediately given to me.  We
+dined together at the Duke of Ormond’s.  He there told me he had stopped
+the warrants for the deans, that what was done for me might be at the
+same time, and he hoped to compass it to-night; but I believe him not.  I
+told the Duke of Ormond my intentions.  He is content Sterne should be a
+bishop, and I have St. Patrick’s; but I believe nothing will come of it,
+for stay I will not; and so I believe for all oo . . . {541} oo may see
+me in Dublin before April ends.  I am less out of humour than you would
+imagine: and if it were not that impertinent people will condole with me,
+as they used to give me joy, I would value it less.  But I will avoid
+company, and muster up my baggage, and send them next Monday by the
+carrier to Chester, and come and see my willows, against the expectation
+of all the world.—Hat care I?  Nite deelest logues, MD.
+
+14.  I dined in the City to-day, and ordered a lodging to be got ready
+for me against I came to pack up my things; for I will leave this end of
+the town as soon as ever the warrants for the deaneries are out, which
+are yet stopped.  Lord Treasurer told Mr. Lewis that it should be
+determined to-night: and so he will for {542a} a hundred nights.  So he
+said yesterday, but I value it not.  My daily journals shall be but short
+till I get into the City, and then I will send away this, and follow it
+myself; and design to walk it all the way to Chester, my man and I, by
+ten miles a day.  It will do my health a great deal of good.  I shall do
+it in fourteen days.  Nite dee MD.
+
+15.  Lord Bolingbroke made me dine with him to-day; he {542b} was as good
+company as ever; and told me the Queen would determine something for me
+to-night.  The dispute is, Windsor or St. Patrick’s.  I told him I would
+not stay for their disputes, and he thought I was in the right.  Lord
+Masham told me that Lady Masham is angry I have not been to see her since
+this business, and desires I will come to-morrow.  Nite deelest MD.
+
+16.  I was this noon at Lady Masham’s, who was just come from Kensington,
+where her eldest son is sick.  She said much to me of what she had talked
+to the Queen and Lord Treasurer.  The poor lady fell a shedding tears
+openly.  She could not bear to think of my having St. Patrick’s, etc.  I
+was never more moved than to see so much friendship.  I would not stay
+with her, but went and dined with Dr. Arbuthnot, with Mr. Berkeley, one
+of your Fellows, whom I have recommended to the Doctor, and to Lord
+Berkeley of Stratton.  Mr. Lewis tells me that the Duke of Ormond has
+been to-day with the Queen; and she was content that Dr. Sterne should be
+Bishop of Dromore, and I Dean of St. Patrick’s; but then out came Lord
+Treasurer, and said he would not be satisfied but that I must be
+Prebend[ary] of Windsor.  Thus he perplexes things.  I expect neither;
+but I confess, as much as I love England, I am so angry at this treatment
+that, if I had my choice, I would rather have St. Patrick’s.  Lady Masham
+says she will speak to purpose to the Queen to-morrow.  Nite, . . . dee
+MD.
+
+17.  I went to dine at Lady Masham’s to-day, and she was taken ill of a
+sore throat, and aguish.  She spoke to the Queen last night, but had not
+much time.  The Queen says she will determine to-morrow with Lord
+Treasurer.  The warrants for the deaneries are still stopped, for fear I
+should be gone.  Do you think anything will be done?  I don’t care
+whether it is or no.  In the meantime, I prepare for my journey, and see
+no great people, nor will see Lord Treasurer any more, if I go.  Lord
+Treasurer told Mr. Lewis it should be done to-night; so he said five
+nights ago.  Nite MD.
+
+18.  This morning Mr. Lewis sent me word that Lord Treasurer told him the
+Queen would determine at noon.  At three Lord Treasurer sent to me to
+come to his lodgings at St. James’s, and told me the Queen was at last
+resolved that Dr. Sterne should be Bishop of Dromore, and I Dean of St.
+Patrick’s; and that Sterne’s warrant should be drawn immediately.  You
+know the deanery is in the Duke of Ormond’s gift; but this is concerted
+between the Queen, Lord Treasurer, and the Duke of Ormond, to make room
+for me.  I do not know whether it will yet be done; some unlucky accident
+may yet come.  Neither can I feel joy at passing my days in Ireland; and
+I confess I thought the Ministry would not let me go; but perhaps they
+can’t help it.  Nite MD.
+
+19.  I forgot to tell you that Lord Treasurer forced me to dine with him
+yesterday as usual, with his Saturday company; which I did after frequent
+refusals.  To-day I dined with a private friend, and was not at Court.
+After dinner Mr. Lewis sent me a note, that the Queen stayed till she
+knew whether the Duke of Ormond approved of Sterne for Bishop.  I went
+this evening, and found the Duke of Ormond at the Cock-pit, and told him,
+and desired he would go to the Queen, and approve of Sterne.  He made
+objections, desired I would name any other deanery, for he did not like
+Sterne; that Sterne never went to see him; that he was influenced by the
+Archbishop of Dublin, etc.; so all now is broken again.  I sent out for
+Lord Treasurer, and told him this.  He says all will do well; but I value
+not what he says.  This suspense vexes me worse than anything else.  Nite
+MD.
+
+20.  I went to-day, by appointment, to the Cock-pit, to talk with the
+Duke of Ormond.  He repeated the same proposals of any other deanery,
+etc.  I desired he would put me out of the case, and do as he pleased.
+Then, with great kindness, he said he would consent; but would do it for
+no man alive but me, etc.  And he will speak to the Queen to-day or
+to-morrow; so, perhaps, something will come of it.  I can’t tell.  Nite
+dee dee logues, MD.
+
+21.  The Duke of Ormond has told the Queen he is satisfied that Sterne
+should be Bishop, and she consents I shall be Dean; and I suppose the
+warrants will be drawn in a day or two.  I dined at an ale-house with
+Parnell and Berkeley; for I am not in humour to go among the Ministers,
+though Lord Dartmouth invited me to dine with him to-day, and Lord
+Treasurer was to be there.  I said I would, if I were out of suspense.
+Nite deelest MD.
+
+22.  The Queen says warrants shall be drawn, but she will dispose of all
+in England and Ireland at once, to be teased no more.  This will delay it
+some time; and, while it is delayed, I am not sure of the Queen, my
+enemies being busy.  I hate this suspense.  Nite deelest MD. {544a}
+
+23.  I dined yesterday with General Hamilton. {544b}  I forgot to tell
+oo.  I write short journals now.  I have eggs on the spit.  This night
+the Queen has signed all the warrants, among which Sterne is Bishop of
+Dromore, and the Duke of Ormond is to send over an order for making me
+Dean of St. Patrick’s.  I have no doubt of him at all.  I think ’tis now
+passed.  And I suppose MD is malicious enough to be glad, and rather have
+it than Wells. {545a}  But you see what a condition I am in.  I thought I
+was to pay but six hundred pounds for the house; but the Bishop of
+Clogher says eight hundred pounds; first-fruits one hundred and fifty
+pounds, and so, with patent, a thousand pounds in all; so that I shall
+not be the better for the deanery these three years.  I hope in some time
+they will be persuaded here to give me some money to pay off these debts.
+I must finish the book I am writing, {545b} before I can go over; and
+they expect I shall pass next winter here, and then I will dun them to
+give me a sum of money.  However, I hope to pass four or five months with
+MD, and whatever comes on it.  MD’s allowance must be increased, and
+shall be too, fais . . . {545c}  I received oor rettle No. 39 to-night;
+just ten weeks since I had your last.  I shall write next post to Bishop
+Sterne.  Never man had so many enemies of Ireland {545d} as he.  I
+carried it with the strongest hand possible.  If he does not use me well
+and gently in what dealings I shall have with him, he will be the most
+ungrateful of mankind.  The Archbishop of York, {545e} my mortal enemy,
+has sent, by a third hand, that he would be glad to see me.  Shall I see
+him, or not?  I hope to be over in a month, and that MD, with their
+raillery, will be mistaken, that I shall make it three years.  I will
+answer oo rettle soon; but no more journals.  I shall be very busy.
+Short letters from hence forward.  I shall not part with Laracor.  That
+is all I have to live on, except the deanery be worth more than four
+hundred pounds a year.  Is it?  If it be, the overplus shall be divided
+between MD and FW beside usual allowance of MD. . . . {545f}  Pray write
+to me a good-humoured letter immediately, let it be ever so short.  This
+affair was carried with great difficulty, which vexes me.  But they say
+here ’tis much to my reputation that I have made a bishop, in spite of
+all the world, to get the best deanery in Ireland.  Nite dee sollahs.
+
+24.  I forgot to tell you I had Sterne’s letter yesterday, in answer to
+mine.  Oo performed oor commission well, dood dallars both. {546a}  I
+made mistakes the three last days, and am forced to alter the number.
+{546b}  I dined in the City to-day with my printer, and came home early,
+and am going to [be] busy with my work.  I will send this to-morrow, and
+I suppose the warrants will go then.  I wrote to Dr. Coghill, to take
+care of passing my patent; and to Parvisol, to attend him with money, if
+he has any, or to borrow some where he can.  Nite MD.
+
+25.  Morning.  I know not whether my warrant be yet ready from the Duke
+of Ormond.  I suppose it will by to-night.  I am going abroad, and will
+keep this unsealed, till I know whether all be finished.  Mollow, {546c}
+sollahs.
+
+I had this letter all day in my pocket, waiting till I heard the warrants
+were gone over.  Mr. Lewis sent to Southwell’s clerk at ten; and he said
+the Bishop of Killaloe {546d} had desired they should be stopped till
+next post.  He sent again, that the Bishop of Killaloe’s business had
+nothing to do with ours.  Then I went myself, but it was past eleven, and
+asked the reason.  Killaloe is removed to Raphoe, and he has a mind to
+have an order for the rents of Raphoe, that have fallen due since the
+vacancy, and he would have all stop till he has gotten that.  A pretty
+request!  But the clerk, at Mr. Lewis’s message, sent the warrants for
+Sterne and me; but then it was too late to send this, which frets me
+heartily, that MD should not have intelligence first from Pdfr.  I think
+to take a hundred pounds a year out of the deanery, and divide it between
+MD and Pr, {546e} and so be one year longer in paying the debt; but we’ll
+talk of zis hen I come over.  So nite dear sollahs.  Lele. {547a}
+
+26.  I was at Court to-day, and a thousand people gave me joy; so I ran
+out.  I dined with Lady Orkney.  Yesterday I dined with Lord Treasurer
+and his Saturday people as usual; and was so bedeaned!  The Archbishop of
+York says he will never more speak against me.  Pray see that Parvisol
+stirs about getting my patent.  I have given Tooke DD’s note to prove she
+is alive.  I’ll answer oo rettle. . . .  Nite.
+
+27.  Nothing new to-day.  I dined with Tom Harley, etc.  I’ll seal up
+this to-night.  Pray write soon. . . . MD MD MD FW FW FW ME ME ME Lele,
+lele.
+
+
+
+LETTER LXIV. {547b}
+
+
+                                                  LONDON, _May_ 16 [1713].
+
+I HAD yours, No. 40, yesterday.  Your new Bishop acts very ungratefully.
+I cannot say so bad of it as he deserved.  I begged at the same post his
+warrant and mine went over, that he would leave those livings to my
+disposal.  I shall write this post to him to let him know how ill I take
+it.  I have letters to tell me that I ought to think of employing some
+body to set the tithes of the deanery.  I know not what to do at this
+distance.  I cannot be in Ireland under a month.  I will write two
+orders; one to Parvisol, and t’other to Parvisol, and a blank for
+whatever fellow it is whom the last Dean employed; and I would desire you
+to advise with friends which to make use of: and if the latter, let the
+fellow’s name be inserted, and both act by commission.  If the former,
+then speak to Parvisol, and know whether he can undertake it.  I doubt it
+is hardly to be done by a perfect stranger alone, as Parvisol is.  He may
+perhaps venture at all, to keep up his interest with me; but that is
+needless, for I am willing to do him any good, that will do me no harm.
+Pray advise with Walls and Raymond, and a little with Bishop Sterne for
+form.  Tell Raymond I cannot succeed for him to get that living of
+Moimed.  It is represented here as a great sinecure.  Several chaplains
+have solicited for it; and it has vexed me so, that, if I live, I will
+make it my business to serve him better in something else.  I am heartily
+sorry for his illness, and that of the other two.  If it be not necessary
+to let the tithes till a month hence, you may keep the two papers, and
+advise well in the meantime; and whenever it is absolutely necessary,
+then give that paper which you are most advised to.  I thank Mr. Walls
+for his letter.  Tell him that must serve for an answer, with my service
+to him and her.  I shall buy Bishop Sterne’s hair as soon as his
+household goods.  I shall be ruined, or at least sadly cramped, unless
+the Queen will give me a thousand pounds.  I am sure she owes me a great
+deal more.  Lord Treasurer rallies me upon it, and I believe intends it;
+but, quando?  I am advised to hasten over as soon as possible, and so I
+will, and hope to set out the beginning of June.  Take no lodging for me.
+What? at your old tricks again?  I can lie somewhere after I land, and I
+care not where, nor how.  I will buy your eggs and bacon, DD . . . {548a}
+your caps and Bible; and pray think immediately, and give me some
+commissions, and I will perform them as far as oo poo Pdfr can. {548b}
+The letter I sent before this was to have gone a post before; but an
+accident hindered it; and, I assure oo, I wam very akkree {548c} MD did
+not write to Dean Pdfr, and I think oo might have had a Dean under your
+girdle for the superscription.  I have just finished my Treatise, {548d}
+and must be ten days correcting it.  Farewell, deelest MD, MD, MD, FW,
+FW, FW, ME, ME, ME, Lele.
+
+You’ll seal the two papers after my name.
+
+                                                  “LONDON, _May_ 16, 1713.
+
+    “I appoint Mr. Isaiah Parvisol and Mr. . . . to set and let the
+    tithes of the Deanery of St. Patrick’s for this present year.  In
+    witness whereof, I hereunto set my hand and seal, the day and year
+    above written.
+
+                                                   [JONAT. SWIFT.” {549a}]
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                                  “LONDON, _May_ 16, 1713.
+
+    “I do hereby appoint Mr. Isaiah Parvisol my proctor, to set and let
+    the tithes of the Deanery of St. Patrick’s.  In witness whereof, I
+    have hereunto set my hand and seal, the day and year above written.
+
+                                                            JONAT. SWIFT.”
+
+
+
+LETTER LXV. {549b}
+
+
+                                                  CHESTER, _June_ 6, 1713.
+
+I AM come here after six days.  I set out on Monday last, and got here
+to-day about eleven in the morning.  A noble rider, fais! and all the
+ships and people went off yesterday with a rare wind.  This was told me,
+to my comfort, upon my arrival.  Having not used riding these three
+years, made me terrible weary; yet I resolve on Monday to set out for
+Holyhead, as weary as I am.  ’Tis good for my health, mam.  When I came
+here, I found MD’s letter of the 26th of May sent down to me.  Had you
+writ a post sooner I might have brought some pins: but you were lazy, and
+would not write your orders immediately, as I desired you.  I will come
+when God pleases; perhaps I may be with you in a week.  I will be three
+days going to Holyhead; I cannot ride faster, say hat oo will.  I am upon
+Stay-behind’s mare.  I have the whole inn to myself.  I would fain ’scape
+this Holyhead journey; but I have no prospect of ships, and it will be
+almost necessary I should be in Dublin before the 25th instant, to take
+the oaths; {549c} otherwise I must wait to a quarter sessions.  I will
+lodge as I can; therefore take no lodgings for me, to pay in my absence.
+The poor Dean can’t afford it.  I spoke again to the Duke of Ormond about
+Moimed for Raymond, and hope he may yet have it, for I laid it strongly
+to the Duke, and gave him the Bishop of Meath’s memorial.  I am sorry for
+Raymond’s fistula; tell him so.  I will speak to Lord Treasurer about
+Mrs. South {550a} to-morrow.  Odso! I forgot; I thought I had been in
+London.  Mrs. Tisdall {550b} is very big, ready to lie down.  Her husband
+is a puppy.  Do his feet stink still?  The letters to Ireland go at so
+uncertain an hour, that I am forced to conclude.  Farewell, MD, MD MD FW
+FW FW ME ME ME ME.
+
+   Lele lele
+   lele logues and
+   Ladies bose fair
+   and slender.
+
+[_On flyleaf_.]
+
+I mightily approve Ppt’s project of hanging the blind parson.  When I
+read that passage upon Chester walls, as I was coming into town, and just
+received your letter, I said aloud—Agreeable B—tch.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES.
+
+
+{0a}  _Notes and Queries_, Sixth Series, x. 287.
+
+{0b}  See letter from Swift to John Temple, February 1737.  She was then
+“quite sunk with years and unwieldliness.”
+
+{0c}  _Athenæum_, Aug. 8, 1891.
+
+{0d}  _Journal_, May 4, 1711.
+
+{0e}  Craik’s _Life of Swift_, 269.
+
+{0f}  _Unpublished Letters of Dean Swift_, pp. 189–96.
+
+{0g}  In 1730 he wrote, “Those who have been married may form juster
+ideas of that estate than I can pretend to do” (Dr. Birkbeck Hill’s
+_Unpublished Letters of Dean Swift_, p. 237).
+
+{0h}  Scott added a new incident which has become incorporated in the
+popular conception of Swift’s story.  Delany is said to have met Swift
+rushing out of Archbishop King’s study, with a countenance of
+distraction, immediately after the wedding.  King, who was in tears,
+said, “You have just met the most unhappy man on earth; but on the
+subject of his wretchedness you must never ask a question.”  Will it be
+believed that Scott—who rejects Delany’s inference from this alleged
+incident—had no better authority for it than “a friend of his (Delany’s)
+relict”?
+
+{0i}  This incident, for which there is probably some foundation of
+fact—we cannot say how much—has been greatly expanded by Mrs. Woods in
+her novel _Esther Vanhomrigh_.  Unfortunately most of her readers cannot,
+of course, judge exactly how far her story is a work of imagination.
+
+{0j}  In October Swift explained that he had been in the country “partly
+to see a lady of my old acquaintance, who was extremely ill”
+(_Unpublished Letters of Dean Swift_, p. 198).
+
+{0k}  There is a story that shortly before her death Swift begged Stella
+to allow herself to be publicly announced as his wife, but that she
+replied that it was then too late.  The versions given by Delany and
+Theophilus Swift differ considerably, while Sheridan alters the whole
+thing by representing Swift as brutally refusing to comply with Stella’s
+last wishes.
+
+{0l}  There has also been the absurd suggestion that the impediment was
+Swift’s knowledge that both he and Stella were the illegitimate children
+of Sir William Temple—a theory which is absolutely disproved by known
+facts.
+
+{0m}  It is curious to note the intimate knowledge of some of Swift’s
+peculiarities which was possessed by the hostile writer of a pamphlet
+called _A Hue and Cry after Dr. S—t_, published in 1714.  That piece
+consists, for the most part, of extracts from a supposed Diary by Swift,
+and contains such passages as these: “_Friday_.  Go to the Club . . .  Am
+treated.  Expenses one shilling.”  “_Saturday_.  Bid my servant get all
+things ready for a journey to the country: mend my breeches; hire a
+washerwoman, making her allow for old shirts, socks, dabbs and markees,
+which she bought of me . . .  Six coaches of quality, and nine hacks,
+this day called at my lodgings.”  “_Thursday_.  The Earl looked queerly:
+left him in a huff.  Bid him send for me when he was fit for company. . . .
+Spent ten shillings.”
+
+{0n}  The “little language” is marked chiefly by such changes of letters
+(e.g., l for r, or r for l) as a child makes when learning to speak.  The
+combinations of letters in which Swift indulges are not so easy of
+interpretation.  For himself he uses Pdfr, and sometimes Podefar or FR
+(perhaps Poor dear foolish rogue).  Stella is Ppt (Poor pretty thing).
+MD (my dears) usually stands for both Stella and Mrs. Dingley, but
+sometimes for Stella alone.  Mrs. Dingley is indicated by ME (Madam
+Elderly), D, or DD (Dear Dingley).  The letters FW may mean Farewell, or
+Foolish Wenches.  Lele seems sometimes to be There, there, and sometimes
+Truly.
+
+{1a}  Addressed “To Mrs. Dingley, at Mr. Curry’s house over against the
+Ram in Capel Street, Dublin, Ireland,” and endorsed by Esther Johnson,
+“Sept. 9. Received.”  Afterwards Swift added, “MD received this Sept. 9,”
+and “Letters to Ireland from Sept.1710, begun soon after the change of
+Ministry.  Nothing in this.”
+
+{1b}  Beaumont is the “grey old fellow, poet Joe,” of Swift’s verses “On
+the little house by the Churchyard at Castlenock.”  Joseph Beaumont, a
+linen-merchant, is described as “a venerable, handsome, grey-headed man,
+of quick and various natural abilities, but not improved by learning.”
+His inventions and mathematical speculations, relating to the longitude
+and other things, brought on mental troubles, which were intensified by
+bankruptcy, about 1718.  He was afterwards removed from Dublin to his
+home at Trim, where he rallied; but in a few years his madness returned,
+and he committed suicide.
+
+{1c}  Vicar of Trim, and formerly a Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin.
+In various places in his correspondence Swift criticises the failings of
+Dr. Anthony Raymond, who was, says Scott, “a particular friend.”  His
+unreliability in money matters, the improvidence of his large family, his
+peculiarities in grammar, his pride in his good manners, all these points
+are noticed in the journal and elsewhere.  But when Dr. Raymond returned
+to Ireland after a visit to London, Swift felt a little melancholy, and
+regretted that he had not seen more of him.  In July 1713 Raymond was
+presented to the Crown living of Moyenet.
+
+{2a}  A small township on the estuary of the Dee, between twelve and
+thirteen miles north-west of Chester.  In the early part of the
+eighteenth century Parkgate was a rival of Holyhead as a station for the
+Dublin packets, which started, on the Irish side, from off Kingsend.
+
+{2b}  Dr. St. George Ashe, afterwards Bishop of Derry, who had been
+Swift’s tutor at Trinity College, Dublin.  He died in 1718.  It is this
+lifelong friend who is said to have married Swift and Esther Johnson in
+1716.
+
+{2c}  The Commission to solicit for the remission of the First-Fruits and
+twentieth parts, payable to the Crown by the Irish clergy, was signed by
+the Archbishops of Armagh, Dublin, and Cashel, and the Bishops of
+Kildare, Meath, and Killala.
+
+{2d}  Dr. William Lloyd was appointed Bishop of Killala in 1690.  He had
+previously been Dean of Achonry.
+
+{2e}  Dr. John Hough (1651–1743).  In 1687 he had been elected President
+of Magdalen College, Oxford, in place of the nominee of James II.  Hough
+was Bishop of Oxford, Lichfield, and Worcester successively, and declined
+the primacy in 1715.
+
+{2f}  Steele was at this time Gazetteer.  The Cockpit, in Whitehall,
+looked upon St. James’s Palace, and was used for various Government
+purposes.
+
+{2g}  This coffee-house, the resort of the Whig politicians, was kept by
+a man named Elliot.  It is often alluded to in the _Tatler_ and
+_Spectator_.
+
+{2h}  William Stewart, second Viscount Mountjoy, a friend and
+correspondent of Swift’s in Ireland.  He was the son of one of William’s
+generals, and was himself a Lieutenant-General and Master-General of the
+Ordnance; he died in 1728.
+
+{2i}  Catherine, daughter of Maurice Keating, of Narraghmore, Kildare,
+and wife of Garret Wesley, of Dangan, M.P. for Meath.  She died in 1745.
+On the death of Garret Wesley without issue in 1728, the property passed
+to a cousin, Richard Colley, who was afterwards created Baron Mornington,
+and was grandfather to the Duke of Wellington.
+
+{3a}  The landlady of Esther Johnson and Mrs. Dingley.
+
+{3b}  Swift’s housekeeper at Laracor. Elsewhere Swift speaks of his “old
+Presbyterian housekeeper,” “who has been my Walpole above thirty years,
+whenever I lived in this kingdom.”  “Joe Beaumont is my oracle for public
+affairs in the country, and an old Presbyterian woman in town.”
+
+{3c}  Isaiah Parvisol, Swift’s tithe-agent and steward at Laracor, was an
+Irishman of French extraction, who died in 1718 (Birkbeck’s _Unpublished
+Letters of Dean Swift_, 1899, p.85).
+
+{4a}  In some MS. Accounts of Swift’s, in the Forster Collection at South
+Kensington there is the following entry:—“Set out for England Aug. 31st
+on Thursday, 10 at night; landed at Parkgate Friday 1st at noon.  Sept.
+1, 1710, came to London.  Thursday at noon, Sept. 7th, with Lord
+Mountjoy, etc.  Mem.: Lord Mountjoy bore my expenses from Chester to
+London.”
+
+{4b}  In a letter to Archbishop King of the same date Swift says he was
+“equally caressed by both parties; by one as a sort of bough for drowning
+men to lay hold of, and by the other as one discontented with the late
+men in power.”
+
+{4c}  The Earl of Godolphin, who was severely satirised by Swift in his
+_Sid Hamet’s Rod_, 1710.  He had been ordered to break his staff as
+Treasurer on August 8.  Swift told Archbishop King that Godolphin was
+“altogether short, dry, and morose.”
+
+{4d}  Martha, widow of Sir Thomas Giffard, Bart., of County Kildare, the
+favourite sister of Sir William Temple, had been described by Swift in
+early pindaric verses as “wise and great.”  Afterwards he was to call her
+“an old beast” (_Journal_, Nov. 11, 1710).  Their quarrel arose, towards
+the close of 1709, out of a difference with regard to the publication of
+Sir William Temple’s Works.  On the appearance of vol. v. Lady Giffard
+charged Swift with publishing portions of the writings from an unfaithful
+copy in lieu of the originals in his possession, and in particular with
+printing laudatory notices of Godolphin and Sunderland which Temple
+intended to omit, and with omitting an unfavourable remark on Sunderland
+which Temple intended to print.  Swift replied that the corrections were
+all made by Temple himself.
+
+{4e}  Lord Wharton’s second wife, Lucy, daughter of Lord Lisburn.  She
+died in 1716, a few months after her husband.  See Lady M. W. Montagu’s
+_Letters_.
+
+{4f}  Mrs. Bridget Johnson, who married, as her second husband, Ralph
+Mose or Moss, of Farnham, an agent for Sir William Temple’s estate, was
+waiting-woman or companion to Lady Giffard.  In her will (1722) Lady
+Giffard left Mrs. Moss £20, “with my silver cup and cover.”  Mrs. Moss
+died in 1745, when letters of administration were granted to a creditor
+of the deceased.
+
+{4g}  Dr. William King (1650–1729), a Whig and High Churchman, had more
+than one difference with Swift during the twenty years following Swift’s
+first visit to London in connection with the First-Fruits question.
+
+{4h}  Swift’s benefice, in the diocese of Meath, two miles from Trim.
+
+{5a}  Steele, who had been issuing the _Tatler_ thrice weekly since April
+1709.  He lost the Gazetteership in October.
+
+{5b}  James, second Duke of Ormond (1665–1745) was appointed Lord
+Lieutenant on the 26th of October.  In the following year he became
+Captain-General and Commander-in-Chief.  He was impeached of high treason
+and attainted in 1715; and he died in exile.
+
+{5c}  “Presto,” substituted by the original editor for “Pdfr,” was
+suggested by a passage in the _Journal_ for Aug. 2, 1711, where Swift
+says that the Duchess of Shrewsbury “could not say my name in English,
+but said Dr. Presto, which is Italian for Swift.”
+
+{5d}  Charles Jervas, the popular portrait-painter, has left two
+portraits of Swift, one of which is in the National Portrait Gallery, and
+the other in the Bodleian Library.
+
+{5e}  Sir William Temple’s nephew, and son of Sir John Temple (died
+1704), Solicitor and Attorney-General, and Speaker of the Irish House of
+Commons.  “Jack” Temple acquired the estate of Moor Park, Surrey, by his
+marriage with Elizabeth, granddaughter of Sir William Temple, and elder
+daughter of John Temple, who committed suicide in 1689.  As late as 1706
+Swift received an invitation to visit Moor Park.
+
+{5f}  Dr. Benjamin Pratt, Provost of Trinity College, Dublin, was
+appointed Dean of Down in 1717.  Swift calls him “a person of wit and
+learning,” and “a gentleman of good birth and fortune, . . . very much
+esteemed among us” (_Short Character of Thomas_, _Earl of Wharton_).  On
+his death in 1721 Swift wrote, “He was one of the oldest acquaintance I
+had, and the last that I expected to die.  He has left a young widow, in
+very good circumstances.  He had schemes of long life. . . .  What a
+ridiculous thing is man!”  (_Unpublished Letters of Dean Swift_, 1899, p.
+106).
+
+{6a}  A Westmeath landlord, whom Swift met from time to time in London.
+The Leighs were well acquainted with Esther Johnson.
+
+{6b}  Dr. Enoch Sterne, appointed Dean of St. Patrick’s, Dublin, in 1704.
+Swift was his successor in the deanery on Dr. Sterne’s appointment as
+Bishop of Dromore in 1713.  In 1717 Sterne was translated to the
+bishopric of Clogher.  He spent much money on the cathedrals, etc., with
+which he was connected.
+
+{6c}  Archdeacon Walls was rector of Castle Knock, near Trim.  Esther
+Johnson was a frequent visitor at his house in Queen Street, Dublin.
+
+{6d}  William Frankland, Comptroller of the Inland Office at the Post
+Office, was the second son of the Postmaster-General, Sir Thomas
+Frankland, Bart.  Luttrell (vi. 333) records that in 1708 he was made
+Treasurer of the Stamp Office, or, according to Chamberlayne’s _Mag.
+Brit. Notitia_ for 1710, Receiver-General.
+
+{6e}  Thomas Wharton, Earl and afterwards Marquis of Wharton, had been
+one of Swift’s fellow-travellers from Dublin.  Lord Lieutenant of Ireland
+under the Whig Government, from 1708 to 1710, Wharton was the most
+thorough-going party man that had yet appeared in English politics; and
+his political enemies did not fail to make the most of his well-known
+immorality.  In his Notes to Macky’s _Characters_ Swift described Wharton
+as “the most universal villain that ever I knew.”  On his death in 1715
+he was succeeded by his profligate son, Philip, who was created Duke of
+Wharton in 1718.
+
+{6f}  This money was a premium the Government had promised Beaumont for
+his Mathematical Sleying Tables, calculated for the improvement of the
+linen manufacture.
+
+{6g}  The bellman was both town-crier and night-watchman.
+
+{7a}  Dr. William Cockburn (1669–1739), Swift’s physician, of a good
+Scottish family, was educated at Leyden.  He invented an electuary for
+the cure of fluxes, and in 1730, in _The Danger of Improving Physick_,
+satirised the academical physicians who envied him the fortune he had
+made by his secret remedy.  He was described in 1729 as “an old very rich
+quack.”
+
+{7b}  Sir Matthew Dudley, Bart., an old Whig friend, was M.P. for
+Huntingdonshire, and Commissioner of the Customs from 1706 to 1712, and
+again under George I., until his death in 1721.
+
+{7c}  Isaac Manley, who was appointed Postmaster-General in Ireland in
+1703 (Luttrell, v. 333).  He had previously been Comptroller of the
+English Letter Office, a post in which he was succeeded by William
+Frankland, son of Sir Thomas Frankland.  Dunton calls Manley “loyal and
+acute.”
+
+{7d}  Sir Thomas Frankland was joint Postmaster-General from 1691 to
+1715.  He succeeded to the baronetcy on the death of his father, Sir
+William Frankland, in 1697, and he died in 1726.  Macky describes Sir
+Thomas as “of a sweet and easy disposition, zealous for the Constitution,
+yet not forward, and indulgent to his dependants.”  On this Swift
+comments, “This is a fair character.”
+
+{7e}  Theophilus Butler, elected M.P. for Cavan, in the Irish Parliament,
+in 1703, and for Belturbet (as “the Right Hon. Theophilus Butler”) in
+1713.  On May 3, 1710, Luttrell wrote (_Brief Relation of State Affairs_,
+vi. 577), “’Tis said the Earl of Montrath, Lord Viscount Mountjoy . . .
+and Mr. Butler will be made Privy Councillors of the Kingdom of Ireland.”
+Butler—a contemporary of Swift’s at Trinity College, Dublin—was created
+Baron of Newtown-Butler in 1715, and his brother, who succeeded him in
+1723, was made Viscount Lanesborough.  Butler’s wife was Emilia, eldest
+daughter and co-heir of James Stopford, of Tara, County Meath.
+
+{8a}  No. 193 of the _Tatler_, for July 4, 1710, contained a letter from
+Downes the Prompter—not by Steele himself—in ridicule of Harley and his
+proposed Ministry.
+
+{8b}  Charles Robartes, second Earl of Radnor, who died in 1723.  In the
+_Journal_ for Dec. 30, 1711, Swift calls him “a scoundrel.”
+
+{8c}  Benjamin Tooke, Swift’s bookseller or publisher, lived at the
+Middle Temple Gate.  Dunton wrote of him, “He is truly honest, a man of
+refined sense, and is unblemished in his reputation.” Tooke died in 1723.
+
+{8d}  Swift’s servant, of whose misdeeds he makes frequent complaints in
+the _Journal_.
+
+{9a}  Deputy Vice-Treasurer of Ireland.  In one place Swift calls him
+Captain Pratt; and in all probability he is the John Pratt who, as we
+learn from Dalton’s _English Army Lists_, was appointed captain in
+General Erle’s regiment of foot in 1699, and was out of the regiment by
+1706.  In 1702 he obtained the Queen’s leave to be absent from the
+regiment when it was sent to the West Indies.  Pratt seems to have been
+introduced to Swift by Addison.
+
+{9b}  Charles Ford, of Wood Park, near Dublin, was a great lover of the
+opera and a friend of the Tory wits.  He was appointed Gazetteer in 1712.
+Gay calls him “joyous Ford,” and he was given to over-indulgence in
+conviviality.  See Swift’s poem on Stella at Wood Park.
+
+{9c}  Lord Somers, to whom Swift had dedicated _The Tale of a Tub_, with
+high praise of his public and private virtues.  In later years Swift said
+that Somers “possessed all excellent qualifications except virtue.”
+
+{9d}  At the foundation school of the Ormonds at Kilkenny (see p. 10,
+note 6.)
+
+{9e}  A Whig haberdasher.
+
+{9f}  Benjamin Hoadley, the Whig divine, had been engaged in controversy
+with Sacheverell, Blackall, and Atterbury.  After the accession of George
+I. he became Bishop of Bangor, Hereford, Salisbury, and Winchester in
+success.
+
+{9g}  Dr. Henry Sacheverell, whose impeachment and trial had led to the
+fall of the Whig Government.
+
+{10a}  Sir Berkeley Lucy, Bart., F.R.S., married Katherine, daughter of
+Charles Cotton, of Beresford, Staffordshire, Isaac Walton’s friend.  Lady
+Lucy died in 1740, leaving an only surviving daughter, Mary, who married
+the youngest son of the Earl of Northampton, and had two sons, who became
+successively seventh and eighth Earls of Northampton.  Forster and others
+assumed that “Lady Lucy” was a Lady Lucy Stanhope, though they were not
+able to identify her.  It was reserved for Mr. Ryland to clear up this
+difficulty.  As he points out, Lady Lucy’s elder sister, Olive, married
+George Stanhope, Dean of Canterbury, and left a daughter Mary,—Swift’s
+“Moll Stanhope,”—a beauty and a madcap, who married, in 1712, William
+Burnet, son of Bishop Burnet, and died in 1714.  Mary, another sister of
+Lady Lucy’s, married Augustine Armstrong, of Great Ormond Street, and is
+the Mrs. Armstrong mentioned by Swift on Feb. 3, 1711, as a pretender to
+wit, without taste.  Sir Berkeley Lucy’s mother was a daughter of the
+first Earl of Berkeley, and it was probably through the Berkeleys that
+Swift came to know the Lucys.
+
+{10b}  Ann Long was sister to Sir James Long, and niece to Colonel
+Strangeways.  Once a beauty and toast of the Kit-Cat Club, she fell into
+narrow circumstances through imprudence and the unkindness of her
+friends, and retired under the name of Mrs. Smythe to Lynn, in Norfolk,
+where she died in 1711 (see _Journal_, December 25, 1711).  Swift said,
+“She was the most beautiful person of the age she lived in; of great
+honour and virtue, infinite sweetness and generosity of temper, and true
+good sense” (Forster’s _Swift_, 229).  In a letter of December 1711,
+Swift wrote that she “had every valuable quality of body and mind that
+could make a lady loved and esteemed.”
+
+{10c}  Said, I know not on what authority, to be Swift’s friend, Mrs.
+Barton.  But Mrs. Barton is often mentioned by Swift as living in London
+in 1710–11.
+
+{10d}  One of Swift’s cousins, who was separated from her husband, a man
+of bad character, living abroad.  Her second husband, Lancelot, a servant
+of Lord Sussex, lived in New Bond Street, and there Swift lodged in 1727.
+
+{10e}  £100,000.
+
+{10f}  Francis Stratford’s name appears in the Dublin University Register
+for 1686 immediately before Swift’s.  Budgell is believed to have
+referred to the friendship of Swift and Stratford in the _Spectator_, No.
+353, where he describes two schoolfellows, and says that the man of
+genius was buried in a country parsonage of £160 a year, while his
+friend, with the bare abilities of a common scrivener, had gained an
+estate of above £100,000.
+
+{10g}  William Cowper, afterwards Lord Cowper.
+
+{11a}  Sir Simon Harcourt, afterwards Viscount Harcourt, had been counsel
+for Sacheverell.  On Sept. 19, 1710, he was appointed Attorney-General,
+and on October 19 Lord Keeper of the Great Seal.  In April 1713 he became
+Lord Chancellor.
+
+{11b}  This may be some relative of Dr. John Freind (see p. 65), or, more
+probably, as Sir Henry Craik suggests, a misprint for Colonel Frowde,
+Addison’s friend (see _Journal_, Nov. 4, 1710).  No officer named Freind
+or Friend is mentioned in Dalton’s _English Army Lists_.
+
+{11c}  See the _Tatler_, Nos. 124, 203.  There are various allusions in
+the “Wentworth Papers” to this, the first State Lottery of 1710; and two
+bluecoat boys drawing out the tickets, and showing their hands to the
+crowd, as Swift describes them, are shown in a reproduction of a picture
+in a contemporary pamphlet given in Ashton’s _Social Life in the Reign of
+Queen Anne_, i. 115.
+
+{11d}  A few weeks later Swift wrote, “I took a fancy of resolving to
+grow mad for it, but now it is off.”
+
+{11e}  Sir John Holland, Bart., was a leading manager for the Commons in
+the impeachment of Sacheverell.  He succeeded Sir Thomas Felton in the
+Comptrollership in March 1710.
+
+{12a}  Dryden Leach. (see p. 51.)
+
+{12b}  William Pate, “_bel esprit_ and woollen-draper,” as Swift called
+him, lived opposite the Royal Exchange.  He was Sheriff of London in
+1734, and died in 1746.  Arbuthnot, previous to matriculating at Oxford,
+lodged with Pate, who gave him a letter of introduction to Dr. Charlett,
+Master of University College; and Pate is supposed to have been the
+woollen-draper, “remarkable for his learning and good-nature,” who is
+mentioned by Steele in the _Guardian_, No. 141.
+
+{12c}  James Brydges, son of Lord Chandos of Sudeley, was appointed
+Paymaster-General of Forces Abroad in 1707.  He succeeded his father as
+Baron Chandos in 1714, and was created Duke of Chandos in 1729.  The
+“princely Chandos” and his house at Canons suggested to Pope the Timon’s
+villa of the “Epistle to Lord Burlington.”  The Duke died in 1744.
+
+{12d}  Charles Talbot, created Duke of Shrewsbury in 1694, was held in
+great esteem by William III., and was Lord Chamberlain under Anne.  In
+1713 he became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and held various offices under
+George I., until his death in 1718.  “Before he was o. age,” says
+Macaulay, “he was allowed to be one of the finest gentlemen and finest
+scholars of his time.”
+
+{13a}  See p. 230.
+
+{13b}  William Cavendish, second Duke of Devonshire (1673–1729), who was
+Lord Steward from 1707 to 1710 and from 1714 to 1716.  Afterwards he was
+Lord President of the Council.  Swift’s comment on Macky’s character of
+this Whig nobleman was, “A very poor understanding.”
+
+{13c}  John Annesley, fourth Earl of Anglesea, a young nobleman of great
+promise, had only recently been appointed joint Vice-Treasurer,
+Receiver-General, and Paymaster of the Forces in Ireland, and sworn of
+the Privy Council.
+
+{14a}  Nichols, followed by subsequent editors, suggested that “Durham”
+was a mistake for “St. David’s,” because Dr. George Bull, Bishop of St.
+David’s, died in 1710.  But Dr. Bull died on Feb. 17, 1710, though his
+successor, Dr. Philip Bisse, was not appointed until November; and Swift
+was merely repeating a false report of the death of Lord Crewe, Bishop of
+Durham, which was current on the day on which he wrote.  Luttrell says,
+on Sept. 19, “The Lord Crewe . . . died lately”; but on the 23rd he adds,
+“The Bishop of Durham is not dead as reported” (_Brief Relation_, vi.
+630, 633).
+
+{14b}  Lady Elizabeth (“Betty”) Butler, who died unmarried in 1750.
+
+{14c}  Swift wrote in 1734, “Once every year I issued out an edict,
+commanding that all ladies of wit, sense, merit, and quality, who had an
+ambition to be acquainted with me, should make the first advances at
+their peril: which edict, you may believe, was universally obeyed.”
+
+{14d}  Charles, second Earl of Berkeley (1649–1710), married Elizabeth,
+daughter of Baptist Noel, Viscount Campden.  The Earl died on Sept. 24,
+1710, and his widow in 1719.  Swift, it will be remembered, had been
+chaplain to Lord Berkeley in Ireland in 1699.
+
+{14e}  Lady Betty and Lady Mary Butler. (see p. 44.)
+
+{14f}  Henry Boyle, Chancellor of the Exchequer from 1702 to 1708, was
+Secretary of State from 1708 to 1710, when he was succeeded by St. John.
+In 1714 he was created Baron Carleton, and he was Lord President from
+1721 until his death in 1725.
+
+{15a}  On Sept. 29 Swift wrote that his rooms consisted of the first
+floor, a dining-room and bed-chamber, at eight shillings a week.  On his
+last visit to England, in 1726, he lodged “next door to the Royal Chair”
+in Bury Street.  Steele lived in the same street from 1707 to 1712; and
+Mrs. Vanhomrigh was Swift’s next-door neighbour.
+
+{15b}  In Exchange Alley.  Cf. _Spectator_, No. 454: “I went afterwards
+to Robin’s, and saw people who had dined with me at the fivepenny
+ordinary just before, give bills for the value of large estates.”
+
+{16a}  John Molesworth, Commissioner of the Stamp Office, was sent as
+Envoy to Tuscany in 1710, and was afterwards Minister at Florence,
+Venice, Geneva, and Turin.  He became second Viscount Molesworth in 1725,
+and died in 1731.
+
+{16b}  Misson says, “Every two hours you may write to any part of the
+city or suburbs: he that receives it pays a penny, and you give nothing
+when you put it into the Post; but when you write into the country both
+he that writes and he that receives pay each a penny.”  The Penny Post
+system had been taken over by the Government, but was worked separately
+from the general Post.
+
+{17a}  The Countess of Berkeley’s second daughter, who married, in 1706,
+Sir John Germaine, Bart. (1650–1718), a soldier of fortune.  Lady Betty
+Germaine is said to have written a satire on Pope (Nichols’ _Literary
+Anecdotes_, ii. 11), and was a constant correspondent of Swift’s.  She
+was always a Whig, and shortly before her death in 1769 she made a
+present of £100 to John Wilkes, then in prison in the Tower.  Writing of
+Lady Betty Butler and Lady Betty Germaine, Swift says elsewhere, “I saw
+two Lady Bettys this afternoon; the beauty of one, the good breeding and
+nature of the other, and the wit of either, would have made a fine
+woman.”  Germaine obtained the estate at Drayton through his first wife,
+Lady Mary Mordaunt—Lord Peterborough’s sister—who had been divorced by
+her first husband, the Duke of Norfolk.  Lady Betty was thirty years
+younger than her husband, and after Sir John’s death she remained a widow
+for over fifty years.
+
+{17b}  The letter in No. 280 of the _Tatler_.
+
+{17c}  Discover, find out.  Cf.  Shakespeare’s _All’s Well that Ends
+Well_, iii. 6: “He was first smoked by the old Lord Lafeu.”
+
+{17d}  A village near Dublin.
+
+{17e}  Excellent.
+
+{18a}  See p. 3.
+
+{18b}  John Molesworth, and, probably, his brother Richard, afterwards
+third Viscount Molesworth, who had saved the Duke of Marlborough’s life
+at the battle of Ramillies, and had been appointed, in 1710, colonel of a
+regiment of foot.
+
+{18c}  Presumably at Charles Ford’s.
+
+{18d}  _The Virtues of Sid Hamet the Magician’s Rod_, published as a
+single folio sheet, was a satire on Godolphin.
+
+{19a}  Apparently Marcus Antonius Morgan, steward to the Bishop of
+Kildare (Craik).  Swift wrote to the Duke of Montagu on Aug. 12, 1713
+(_Buccleuch MSS._, 1899, i. 359). “Mr. Morgan of Kingstrope is a friend,
+and was, I am informed, put out of the Commission of justice for being
+so.”
+
+{19b}  Dr. Raymond is called Morgan’s “father” because he warmly
+supported Morgan’s interests.
+
+{19c}  The Rev. Thomas Warburton, Swift’s curate at Laracor, whom Swift
+described to the Archbishop as “a gentleman of very good learning and
+sense, who has behaved himself altogether unblamably.”
+
+{19d}  The tobacco was to be used as snuff.  About this time ladies much
+affected the use of snuff, and Steele, in No. 344 of the _Spectator_,
+speaks of Flavilla pulling out her box, “which is indeed full of good
+Brazil,” in the middle of the sermon.  People often made their own snuff
+out of roll tobacco, by means of rasps.  On Nov. 3, 1711, Swift speaks of
+sending “a fine snuff rasp of ivory, given me by Mrs. St. John for
+Dingley, and a large roll of tobacco.”
+
+{20a}  Katherine Barton, second daughter of Robert Barton, of Brigstock,
+Northamptonshire, and niece of Sir Isaac Newton.  She was a favourite
+among the toasts of the Kit-Cat Club, and Lord Halifax, who left her a
+fortune, was an intimate friend.  In 1717 she married John Conduitt,
+afterwards Master of the Mint.
+
+{20b}  See p. 17.
+
+{20c}  William Connolly, appointed a Commissioner of the Revenue in 1709,
+was afterwards Speaker of the Irish House of Commons.  He died in 1729.
+Francis Robarts, appointed a Commissioner of the Revenue in 1692, was
+made a Teller of the Exchequer in England in 1704, and quitted that
+office, in September 1710, on his reappointment, in Connolly’s place, as
+Revenue Commissioner in Ireland.  In 1714 Robarts was removed, and
+Connolly again appointed Commissioner.
+
+{20d}  Enoch Sterne, Collector of Wicklow and Clerk to the Irish House of
+Lords.  Writing to Dr. Sterne on Sept. 26, Swift said, “I saw Collector
+Sterne, who desired me to present his service to you, and to tell you he
+would be glad to hear from you, but not about business.”
+
+{20e}  In his _Character of Mrs. Johnson_ Swift says, “She was never
+known to cry out, or discover any fear, in a coach.” The passage in the
+text is obscure.  Apparently Esther Johnson had boasted of saving money
+by walking, instead of riding, like a coward.
+
+{21a}  John Radcliffe (1650–1714), the well-known physician and wit, was
+often denounced as a clever empiric.  Early in 1711 he treated Swift for
+his dizziness.  By his will, Radcliffe left most of his property to the
+University of Oxford.
+
+{21b}  Charles Barnard, Sergeant-Surgeon to the Queen, and Master of the
+Barber Surgeons’ Company.  His large and valuable library, to which Swift
+afterwards refers, fetched great prices.  Luttrell records Barnard’s
+death in his diary for Oct. 12, 1710.
+
+{21c}  Robert Harley, afterwards Earl of Oxford, had been appointed
+Chancellor of the Exchequer in August 1710.  In May 1711 he was raised to
+the peerage and made Lord High Treasurer; and he is constantly referred
+to in the _Journal_ as “Lord Treasurer.”  He was impeached in 1715, but
+was acquitted to 1717; he died in 1724.
+
+{22a}  The Right Hon. Thomas Bligh, M.P., of Rathmore, County Meath, died
+on Aug. 28, 1710.  His son, mentioned later in the _Journal_, became Earl
+of Darnley.
+
+{22b}  Penalty.
+
+{23a}  Erasmus Lewis, Under Secretary of State under Lord Dartmouth, was
+a great friend of Swift, Pope, and Arbuthnot.  He had previously been one
+of Harley’s secretaries, and in his _Horace Imitated_, _Book I. Ep.
+vii_., Swift describes him as “a cunning shaver, and very much in
+Harley’s favour.”  Arbuthnot says that under George I. Lewis kept company
+with the greatest, and was “principal governor” in many families.  Lewis
+was a witness to Arbuthnot’s will.  Pope and Esther Vanhomrigh both left
+him money to buy rings.  Lewis died in 1754, aged eighty-three.
+
+{23b}  Charles Darteneuf, or Dartiquenave, was a celebrated epicure, who
+is said to have been a son of Charles II.  Lord Lyttleton, in his
+_Dialogues of the Dead_, recalling Pope’s allusions to him, selects him
+to represent modern _bon vivants_ in the dialogue between Darteneuf and
+Apicius.  See _Tatler_ 252.  Darteneuf was Paymaster of the Royal Works
+and a member of the Kit-Cat Club.  He died in 1737.
+
+{23c}  No. 230.
+
+{23d}  Good, excellent.
+
+{23e}  Captain George Delaval, appointed Envoy Extraordinary to the King
+of Portugal in Oct. 1710, was with Lord Peterborough in Spain in 1706.
+In May 1707 he went to Lisbon with despatches for the Courts of Spain and
+Portugal, from whence he was to proceed as Envoy to the Emperor of
+Morocco, with rich presents (Luttrell, vi. 52, 174, 192).
+
+{23f}  Charles Montagu, Earl of Halifax, as Ranger of Bushey Park and
+Hampton Court, held many offices under William III., and was First Lord
+of the Treasury under George I., until his death in 1715.  He was great
+as financier and as debater, and he was a liberal patron of literature.
+
+{24a}  John Manley, M.P. for Bossiney, was made Surveyor-General on Sept.
+30, 1710, and died in 1714.  In 1706 he fought a duel with another
+Cornish member (Luttrell, vi. 11, 535, 635).  He seems to be the cousin
+whom Mrs. De la Riviere Manley accuses of having drawn her into a false
+marriage.  For Isaac Manley and Sir Thomas Frankland, see p. 7.
+
+{24b}  The Earl of Godolphin (see p. 18).
+
+{24c}  Sir John Stanley, Bart., of Northend, Commissioner of Customs,
+whom Swift knew through his intimate friends the Pendarves.  His wife,
+Anne, daughter of Bernard Granville, and niece of John, Earl of Bath, was
+aunt to Mary Granville, afterwards Mrs. Delany, who lived with the
+Stanleys at their house in Whitehall.
+
+{24d}  Henry, Viscount Hyde, eldest son of Laurence Hyde, Earl of
+Rochester, succeeded his father in the earldom in 1711, and afterwards
+became Earl of Clarendon.  His wife, Jane, younger daughter of Sir
+William Leveson Gower,—who married a daughter of John Granville, Earl of
+Bath,—was a beauty, and the mother of two beauties—Jane, afterwards
+Countess of Essex (see _Journal_, Jan. 29, 1712), and Catherine,
+afterwards Countess of Queensberry.  Lady Hyde was complimented by Prior,
+Pope, and her kinsman, Lord Lansdowne, and is said to have been more
+handsome than either of her daughters.  She died in 1725; her husband in
+1753.  Lord Hyde became joint Vice-Treasurer for Ireland in 1710; hence
+his interest with respect to Pratt’s appointment.
+
+{24e}  See p. 9.
+
+{24f}  Sir Paul Methuen (1672–1757), son of John Methuen, diplomatist and
+Lord Chancellor of Ireland.  Methuen was Envoy and Ambassador to Portugal
+from 1697 to 1708, and was M.P. for Devizes from 1708 to 1710, and a Lord
+of the Admiralty.  Under George I. he was Ambassador to Spain, and held
+other offices.  Gay speaks of “Methuen of sincerest mind, as Arthur
+grave, as soft as womankind,” and Steele dedicated to him the seventh
+volume of the _Spectator_.  In his Notes on Macky’s _Characters_, Swift
+calls him “a profligate rogue . . . without abilities of any kind.”
+
+{24g}  Sir James Montagu was Attorney-General from 1708 to Sept. 1710,
+when he resigned, and was succeeded by Sir Simon Harcourt.  Under George
+I. Montagu was raised to the Bench, and a few months before his death in
+1723 became Chief Baron of the Exchequer.
+
+{25a}  The turnpike system had spread rapidly since the Restoration, and
+had already effected an important reform in the English roads.  Turnpike
+roads were as yet unknown in Ireland.
+
+{25b}  Ann Johnson, who afterwards married a baker named Filby.
+
+{25c}  An infusion of which the main ingredient was cowslip or
+palsy-wort.
+
+{25d}  William Legge, first Earl of Dartmouth (1672–1750), was St. John’s
+fellow Secretary of State.  Lord Dartmouth seems to have been a plain,
+unpretending man, whose ignorance of French helped to throw important
+matters into St. John’s hands.
+
+{25e}  Richard Dyot was tried at the Old Bailey, on Jan. 13, 1710–11, for
+counterfeiting stamps, and was acquitted, the crime being found not
+felony, but only breach of trust.  Two days afterwards a bill of
+indictment was found against him for high misdemeanour.
+
+{26a}  Sir Philip Meadows (1626–1718) was knighted in 1658, and was
+Ambassador to Sweden under Cromwell.  His son Philip (died 1757) was
+knighted in 1700, and was sent on a special mission to the Emperor in
+1707.  A great-grandson of the elder Sir Philip was created Earl Manvers
+in 1806.
+
+{26b}  Her eyes were weak.
+
+{26c}  The son of the Sir Robert Southwell to whom Temple had offered
+Swift as a “servant” on his going as Secretary of State to Ireland in
+1690.  Edward Southwell (1671–1730) succeeded his father as Secretary of
+State for Ireland in 1702, and in 1708 was appointed Clerk to the Privy
+Council of Great Britain.  Southwell held various offices under George I.
+and George II., and amassed a considerable fortune.
+
+{27a}  Nicholas Rowe (1674–1718), dramatist and poet laureate, and one of
+the first editors of Shakespeare, was at this time under-secretary to the
+Duke of Queensberry, Secretary of State for Scotland.
+
+{27b}  No. 238 contains Swift’s “Description of a Shower in London.”
+
+{27c}  This seems to be a vague allusion to the text, “Cast thy bread
+upon the waters,” etc.
+
+{27d}  Sir Godfrey Kneller (1646–1723), the fashionable portrait-painter
+of the period.
+
+{28a}  At the General election of 1710 the contest at Westminster excited
+much interest.  The number of constituents was large, and the franchise
+low, all householders who paid scot and lot being voters.  There were,
+too, many houses of great Whig merchants, and a number of French
+Protestants.  But the High Church candidates, Cross and Medlicott, were
+returned by large majorities, though the Whigs had chosen popular
+candidates—General Stanhope, fresh from his successes in Spain, and Sir
+Henry Dutton Colt, a Herefordshire gentleman.
+
+{28b}  Sir Andrew Fountaine (1676–1753), a distinguished antiquary, of an
+old Norfolk family, was knighted by William III. in 1699, and inherited
+his father’s estate at Norfolk in 1706.  He succeeded Sir Isaac Newton as
+Warden of the Mint in 1727, and was Vice-Chamberlain to Queen Caroline.
+He became acquainted with Swift in Ireland in 1707, when he went over as
+Usher of the Black Rod in Lord Pembroke’s Court.
+
+{28c}  See p. 6.  The Bishop was probably Dr. Moreton, Bishop of Meath
+(see _Journal_, July 1, 1712).
+
+{28d}  The game of ombre—of Spanish origin—is described in Pope’s _Rape
+of the Lock_.  See also the _Compleat Gamester_, 1721, and _Notes and
+Queries_, April 8, 1871.  The ace of spades, or Spadille, was always the
+first trump; the ace of clubs (Basto) always the third.  The second trump
+was the worst card of the trump suit in its natural order, _i.e._ the
+seven in red and the deuce in black suits, and was called Manille.  If
+either of the red suits was trumps, the ace of the suit was fourth trump
+(Punto).  Spadille, Manille, and Basto were “matadores,” or murderers, as
+they never gave suit.
+
+{28e}  See p. 12
+
+{29a}  In the _Spectator_, No. 337, there is a complaint from “one of the
+top China women about town,” of the trouble given by ladies who turn over
+all the goods in a shop without buying anything.  Sometimes they
+cheapened tea, at others examined screens or tea-dishes.
+
+{29b}  The Right Hon. John Grubham Howe, M.P. for Gloucestershire, an
+extreme Tory, had recently been appointed Paymaster of the Forces.  He is
+mentioned satirically as a patriot in sec. 9 of _The Tale of a Tub_.
+
+{30a}  George Henry Hay, Viscount Dupplin, eldest son of the sixth Earl
+of Kinnoull, was made a Teller of the Exchequer in August, and a peer of
+Great Britain in December 1711, with the title of Baron Hay.  He married,
+in 1709, Abigail, Harley’s younger daughter, and he succeeded his father
+in the earldom of Kinnoull in 1719.
+
+{30b}  Edward Harley, afterwards Lord Harley, who succeeded his father as
+Earl of Oxford in 1724.  He married Lady Henrietta Cavendish Holles,
+daughter of the Duke of Newcastle, but died without male issue in 1741.
+His interest in literature caused him to form the collection known as the
+Harleian Miscellany.
+
+{30c}  William Penn (1644–1718), the celebrated founder of Pennsylvania.
+Swift says that he “spoke very agreeably, and with much spirit.”
+
+{30d}  This “Memorial to Mr. Harley about the First-Fruits” is dated Oct.
+7, 1710.
+
+{30e}  Henry St. John, created Viscount Bolingbroke in July 1712.  In the
+quarrel between Oxford and Bolingbroke in 1714, Swift’s sympathies were
+with Oxford.
+
+{31a}  _I.e._, it is decreed by fate.  So Tillotson says, “These things
+are fatal and necessary.”
+
+{31b}  See p. 8.
+
+{31c}  Obscure.  Hooker speaks of a “blind or secret corner.”
+
+{31d}  Ale served in a gill measure.
+
+{31e}  Scott suggests that the allusion is to _The Tale of a Tub_.
+
+{31f}  An extravagant compliment.
+
+{32a}  See p. 62.
+
+{32b}  L’Estrange speaks of “trencher-flies and spungers.”
+
+{32c}  See p. 2.
+
+{32d}  Samuel Garth, physician and member of the Kit-Cat Club, was
+knighted in 1714.  He is best known by his satirical poem, _The
+Dispensary_, 1699.
+
+{32e}  Gay speaks of “Wondering Main, so fat, with laughing eyes” (_Mr.
+Pope’s Welcome from Greece_, st. xvii.).
+
+{32f}  See p. 24, note 3.
+
+{33a}  See the letter of Oct. 10, 1710, to Archbishop King.
+
+{33b}  See p. 6.
+
+{33c}  “Seventy-three lines in folio upon one page, and in a very small
+hand.” (Deane Swift).
+
+{34a}  _I.e._, Lord Lieutenant.
+
+{34b}  _Tatler_, No. 238.
+
+{34c}  See p. 2.
+
+{34d}  Charles Coote, fourth Earl of Mountrath, and M.P. for
+Knaresborough.  He died unmarried in 1715.
+
+{34e}  Henry Coote, Lord Mountrath’s brother.  He succeeded to the
+earldom in 1715, but died unmarried in 1720.
+
+{35a}  The Devil Tavern was the meeting-place of Ben Jonson’s Apollo
+Club.  The house was pulled down in 1787.
+
+{35b}  Addison was re-elected M.P. for Malmesbury in Oct. 1710, and he
+kept that seat until his death in 1719.
+
+{35c}  Captain Charles Lavallee, who served in the Cadiz Expedition of
+1702, and was appointed a captain in Colonel Hans Hamilton’s Regiment of
+Foot in 1706 (Luttrell, v. 175, vi. 640; Dalton’s _English Army Lists_,
+iv. 126).
+
+{35d}  See p. 25.
+
+{36a}  The _Tatler_, No. 230, _Sid Hamet’s Rod_, and the ballad (now
+lost) on the Westminster Election.
+
+{36b}  The Earl of Galway (1648–1720), who lost the battle of Almanza to
+the Duke of Berwick in 1707.  Originally the Marquis de Ruvigny, a French
+refugee, he had been made Viscount Galway and Earl of Galway successively
+by William III.
+
+{36c}  William Harrison, the son of a doctor at St. Cross, Winchester,
+had been recommended to Swift by Addison, who obtained for him the post
+of governor to the Duke of Queensberry’s son.  In Jan. 1711 Harrison
+began the issue of a continuation of Steele’s _Tatler_ with Swift’s
+assistance, but without success.  In May 1711, St. John gave Harrison the
+appointment of secretary to Lord Raby, Ambassador Extraordinary at the
+Hague, and in Jan. 1713 Harrison brought the Barrier Treaty to England.
+He died in the following month, at the age of twenty-seven, and Lady
+Strafford says that “his brother poets buried him, as Mr. Addison, Mr.
+Philips, and Dr. Swift.”  Tickell calls him “that much loved youth,” and
+Swift felt his death keenly.  Harrison’s best poem is _Woodstock Park_,
+1706.
+
+{37a}  The last volume of Tonson’s _Miscellany_, 1708.
+
+{37b}  James Douglas, second Duke of Queensberry and Duke of Dover
+(1662–1711), was appointed joint Keeper of the Privy Seal in 1708, and
+third Secretary of State in 1709.  Harrison must have been “governor”
+either to the third son, Charles, Marquis of Beverley (born 1698), who
+succeeded to the dukedom in 1711, or to the fourth son, George, born in
+1701.
+
+{37c}  Anthony Henley, son of Sir Robert Henley, M.P. for Andover, was a
+favourite with the wits in London.  He was a strong Whig, and
+occasionally contributed to the _Tatler_ and Maynwaring’s _Medley_.
+Garth dedicated _The Dispensary_ to him.  Swift records Henley’s death
+from apoplexy in August 1711.
+
+{37d}  Sir William Ashurst, Sir Gilbert Heathcote, and Mr. John Ward were
+replaced by Sir Richard Hoare, Sir George Newland, and Mr. John Cass at
+the election for the City in 1710.  Scott was wrong in saying that the
+Whigs lost also the fourth seat, for Sir William Withers had been member
+for the City since 1707.
+
+{37e}  Sir Richard Onslow, Bart., was chosen Speaker of the House of
+Commons in 1708.  Under George I. he was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and
+was elevated to the peerage as Baron Onslow in 1716.  He died in the
+following year.
+
+{38a}  “The upper part of the letter was a little besmeared with some
+such stuff; the mark is still on it” (Deane Swift).
+
+{38b}  John Bolton, D.D., appointed a prebendary of St. Patrick’s in
+1691, became Dean of Derry in 1699.  He died in 1724.  Like Swift, Bolton
+was chaplain to Lord Berkeley, the Lord Lieutenant, and, according to
+Swift, he obtained the deanery of Derry through Swift having declined to
+give a bribe of £1000 to Lord Berkeley’s secretary.  But Lord Orrery says
+that the Bishop of Derry objected to Swift, fearing that he would be
+constantly flying backwards and forwards between Ireland and England.
+
+{38c}  See p. 6, note 2.
+
+{39a}  “That is, to the next page; for he is now within three lines of
+the bottom of the first” (Deane Swift).
+
+{39b}  See p. 20.
+
+{39c}  Joshua Dawson, secretary to the Lords Justices.  He built a fine
+house in Dawson Street, Dublin, and provided largely for his relatives by
+the aid of the official patronage in his hands.
+
+{39d}  He had been dead three weeks (see pp. 14, 25).
+
+{39e}  In _The Importance of the Guardian Considered_, Swift says that
+Steele, “to avoid being discarded, thought fit to resign his place of
+Gazetteer.”
+
+{40a}  As Swift never used the name “Stella” in the _Journal_, this
+fragment of his “little language” must have been altered by Deane Swift,
+the first editor.  Forster makes the excellent suggestion that the
+correct reading is “sluttikins,” a word used in the _Journal_ on Nov. 28,
+1710.  Swift often calls his correspondents “sluts.”
+
+{40b}  Godolphin, who was satirised in _Sid Hamel’s Rod_ (see p. 4).
+
+{40c}  No. 230.
+
+{40d}  “This appears to be an interjection of surprise at the length of
+his journal” (Deane Swift).
+
+{41a}  Matthew Prior, poet and diplomatist, had been deprived of his
+Commissionership of Trade by the Whigs, but was rewarded for his Tory
+principles in 1711 by a Commissionership of Customs.
+
+{41b}  “The twentieth parts are 12d. in the £1 paid annually out of all
+ecclesiastical benefices as they were valued at the Reformation.  They
+amount to about £500 per annum; but are of little or no value to the
+Queen after the offices and other charges are paid, though of much
+trouble and vexation to the clergy” (Swift’s “Memorial to Mr. Harley”).
+
+{41c}  Charles Mordaunt, the brilliant but erratic Earl of Peterborough,
+had been engaged for two years, after the unsatisfactory inquiry into his
+conduct in Spain by the House of Lords in 1708, in preparing an account
+of the money he had received and expended.  The change of Government
+brought him relief from his troubles; in November he was made
+Captain-General of Marines, and in December he was nominated Ambassador
+Extraordinary to Vienna.
+
+{41d}  Tapped, nudged.
+
+{41e}  _I.e._, told only to you.
+
+{41f}  Sir Hew Dalrymple (1652–1737), Lord President of the Court of
+Session, and son of the first Viscount Stair.
+
+{41g}  Robert Benson, a moderate Tory, was made a Lord of the Treasury in
+August 1710, and Chancellor of the Exchequer in the following June, and
+was raised to the peerage as Baron Bingley in 1713.  He died in 1731.
+
+{42a}  The Smyrna Coffee-house was on the north side of Pall Mall,
+opposite Marlborough House.  In the _Tatler_ (Nos. 10, 78) Steele laughed
+at the “cluster of wise heads” to be found every evening at the Smyrna;
+and Goldsmith says that Beau Nash would wait a whole day at a window at
+the Smyrna, in order to receive a bow from the Prince or the Duchess of
+Marlborough, and would then look round upon the company for admiration
+and respect.
+
+{42b}  See p. 19.
+
+{42c}  See p. 25.
+
+{42d}  An Irish doctor, with whom Swift invested money.
+
+{43a}  Enoch Sterne, Collector of Wicklow and Clerk to the House of Lords
+in Ireland.
+
+{43b}  Claret.
+
+{43c}  Colonel Ambrose Edgworth, a famous dandy, who is supposed to have
+been referred to by Steele in No. 246 of the _Tatler_.  Edgworth was the
+son of Sir John Edgworth, who was made Colonel of a Regiment of Foot in
+1689 (Dalton, iii, 59).  Ambrose Edgworth was a Captain in the same
+regiment, but father and son were shortly afterwards turned out of the
+regiment for dishonest conduct in connection with the soldiers’ clothing.
+Ambrose was, however, reappointed a Captain in General Eric’s Regiment of
+Foot in 1691.  He served in Spain as Major in Brigadier Gorge’s regiment;
+was taken prisoner in 1706; and was appointed Lieutenant-Colonel of
+Colonel Thomas Allen’s Regiment of Foot in 1707.
+
+{43d}  This volume of _Miscellanies in Prose and Verse_ was published by
+Morphew in 1711.
+
+{43e}  Dr. Thomas Lindsay, afterwards Bishop of Raphoe.
+
+{44a}  The first mention of the Vanhomrighs in the _Journal_.  Swift had
+made their acquaintance when he was in London in 1708.
+
+{44b}  Lady Elizabeth and Lady Mary (see p. 40 and below).
+
+{44c}  John, third Lord Ashburnham, and afterwards Earl of Ashburnham
+(1687–1737), married, on Oct. 21, 1710, Lady Mary Butler, younger
+daughter of the Duke of Ormond.  She died on Jan. 2, 1712–3, in her
+twenty-third year.  She was Swift’s “greatest favourite,” and he was much
+moved at her death.
+
+{45a}  Edward Wortley Montagu, grandson of the first Earl of Sandwich,
+and M.P. for Huntingdon.  He was a great friend of Addison’s, and the
+second volume of the _Tatler_ was dedicated to him.  In 1712 he married
+the famous Lady Mary Pierrepont, eldest daughter of the Duke of Kingston,
+and under George I. he became Ambassador Extraordinary to the Porte.  He
+died in 1761, aged eighty.
+
+{45b}  See p. 28.  No copy of these verses is known.
+
+{45c}  Henry Alexander, fifth Earl of Stirling, who died without issue in
+1739.  His sister, Lady Judith Alexander, married Sir William Trumbull,
+Pope’s friend.
+
+{46}  “These words, notwithstanding their great obscurity at present,
+were very clear and intelligible to Mrs. Johnson: they referred to
+conversations, which passed between her and Dr. Tisdall seven or eight
+years before; when the Doctor, who was not only a learned and faithful
+divine, but a zealous Church-Tory, frequently entertained her with
+Convocation disputes.  This gentleman, in the year 1704, paid his
+addresses to Mrs. Johnson” (Deane Swift).  The Rev. William Tisdall was
+made D.D. in 1707.  Swift never forgave Tisdall’s proposal to marry
+Esther Johnson in 1704, and often gave expression to his contempt for
+him.  In 1706 Tisdall married, and was appointed Vicar of Kerry and
+Ruavon; in 1712 he became Vicar of Belfast.  He published several
+controversial pieces, directed against Presbyterians and other
+Dissenters.
+
+{47a}  No. 193 of the _Tatler_, for July 4, 1710, contained a letter from
+Downes the Prompter in ridicule of Harley’s newly formed Ministry.  This
+letter, the authorship of which Steele disavowed, was probably by Anthony
+Henley.
+
+{48a}  William Berkeley, fourth Baron Berkeley of Stratton, was sworn of
+the Privy Council in September 1710, and was appointed Chancellor of the
+Duchy of Lancaster.  He married Frances, youngest daughter of Sir John
+Temple, of East Sheen, Surrey, and died in 1740.
+
+{48b}  Probably the widow of Sir William Temple’s son, John Temple (see
+p. 5).  She was Mary Duplessis, daughter of Duplessis Rambouillet, a
+Huguenot.
+
+{48c}  The Rev. James Sartre, who married Addison’s sister Dorothy, was
+Prebendary and Archdeacon of Westminster.  He had formerly been French
+pastor at Montpelier.  After his death in 1713 his widow married a Mr.
+Combe, and lived until 1750.
+
+{48d}  William Congreve’s last play was produced in 1700.  In 1710, when
+he was forty, he published a collected edition of his works.  Swift and
+Congreve had been schoolfellows at Kilkenny, and they had both been
+pupils of St. George Ashe—afterwards Bishop of Clogher—at Trinity
+College, Dublin.  On Congreve’s death, in 1729, Swift wrote, “I loved him
+from my youth.”
+
+{49a}  See p. 19.
+
+{49b}  Dean Sterne.
+
+{49c}  See p. 38.
+
+{49d}  When he became Dean he withheld from Swift the living of St.
+Nicholas Without, promised in gratitude for the aid rendered by Swift in
+his election.
+
+{49e}  Crowe was a Commissioner for Appeals from the Revenue
+Commissioners for a short time in 1706, and was Recorder of Blessington,
+Co. Wicklow.  In his _Short Character of Thomas_, _Earl of Wharton_,
+1710, Swift speaks of Whartons “barbarous injustice to . . . poor Will
+Crowe.”
+
+{50a}  See p. 9.
+
+{50b}  See p. 13.
+
+{50c}  See p. 3.
+
+{50d}  Richard Tighe, M.P. for Belturbet, was a Whig, much disliked by
+Swift.  He became a Privy Councillor under George I.
+
+{51a}  Dryden Leach, of the Old Bailey, formerly an actor, was son of
+Francis Leach.  Swift recommended Harrison to employ Leach in printing
+the continuation of the _Tatler_; but Harrison discarded him.  (See
+_Journal_, Jan. 16, 1710–11, and Timperley’s _Literary Anecdotes_, 600,
+631).
+
+{51b}  The _Postman_, which appeared three days in the week, written by
+M. Fonvive, a French Protestant, whom Dunton calls “the glory and mirror
+of news writers, a very grave, learned, orthodox man.”  Fonvive had a
+universal system of intelligence, at home and abroad, and “as his news is
+early and good, so his style is excellent.”
+
+{51c}  Sir William Temple left Esther Johnson the lease of some property
+in Ireland.
+
+{52a}  See p. 27.
+
+{52b}  An out-of-the-way or obscure house.  So Pepys (_Diary_, Oct. 15,
+1661) “To St. Paul’s Churchyard to a blind place where Mr. Goldsborough
+was to meet me.”
+
+{52c}  Sir Richard Temple, Bart., of Stowe, a Lieutenant-General who saw
+much service in Flanders, was dismissed in 1713 owing to his Whig views,
+but on the accession of George I. was raised to the peerage, and was
+created Viscount Cobham in 1718.  He died in 1749.  Congreve wrote in
+praise of him, and he was the “brave Cobham” of Pope’s first _Moral
+Essay_.
+
+{52d}  Richard Estcourt, the actor, died in August 1712, when his
+abilities on the stage and as a talker were celebrated by Steele to No.
+468 of the _Spectator_.  See also _Tatler_, Aug. 6, 1709, and
+_Spectator_, May 5, 1712.  Estcourt was “providore” of the Beef-Steak
+Club, and a few months before his death opened the Bumper Tavern in James
+Street, Covent Garden.
+
+{52e}  See p. 32.
+
+{52f}  Poor, mean.  Elsewhere Swift speaks of “the corrector of a hedge
+press in Little Britain,” and “a little hedge vicar.”
+
+{52g}  Thomas Herbert, eighth Earl of Pembroke, was Lord Lieutenant from
+April 1707 to December 1708.  A nobleman of taste and learning, he was,
+like Swift, very fond of punning, and they had been great friends in
+Ireland.
+
+{53a}  See p. 9.
+
+{53b}  See p. 10.
+
+{53c}  A small town and fortress in what is now the Pas de Calais.
+
+{53d}  Richard Stewart, third son of the first Lord Mountjoy (see p. 2),
+was M.P. at various times for Castlebar, Strabane, and County Tyrone.  He
+died in 1728.
+
+{54a}  See p. 7.
+
+{54b}  Swift, Esther Johnson, and Mrs. Dingley seem to have begun their
+financial year on the 1st of November.  Swift refers to “MD’s allowance”
+in the _Journal_ for April 23, 1713.
+
+{55a}  Samuel Dopping, an Irish friend of Stella’s, who was probably
+related to Anthony Dopping, Bishop of Meath (died 1697), and to his son
+Anthony (died 1743), who became Bishop of Ossory.
+
+{55b}  See p. 6.
+
+{55c}  The wife of Alderman Stoyte, afterwards Lord Mayor of Dublin.
+Mrs. Stoyte and her sister Catherine; the Walls; Isaac Manley and his
+wife; Dean Sterne, Esther Johnson and Mrs. Dingley, and Swift, were the
+principal members of a card club which met at each other’s houses for a
+number of years.
+
+{55d}  See p. 2.
+
+{56a}  “This cypher stands for Presto, Stella, and Dingley; as much as to
+say, it looks like us three quite retired from all the rest of the world”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{56b}  Steele’s “dear Prue,” Mary Scurlock, whom he married as his second
+wife in 1707, was a lady of property and a “cried-up beauty.”  She was
+somewhat of a prude, and did not hesitate to complain to her husband, in
+and out of season, of his extravagance and other weaknesses.  The other
+lady to whom Swift alludes is probably the Duchess of Marlborough.
+
+{56c}  See p. 46.
+
+{56d}  Remembers: an Irish expression.
+
+{57a}  This new Commission, signed by Narcissus Marsh, Archbishop of
+Armagh, and William King, was dated Oct. 24, 1710.  In this document
+Swift was begged to take the full management of the business of the
+First-Fruits into his hands, the Bishops of Ossory and Killala—who were
+to have joined with him in the negotiations—having left London before
+Swift arrived.  But before this commission was despatched the Queen had
+granted the First-Fruits and Twentieth Parts to the Irish clergy.
+
+{57b}  Lady Mountjoy, wife of the second Viscount Mountjoy (see p. 2),
+was Anne, youngest daughter of Murrough Boyle, first Viscount
+Blessington, by his second wife, Anne, daughter of Charles Coote, second
+Earl of Mountrath.  After Lord Mountjoy’s death she married John
+Farquharson, and she died in 1741.
+
+{58a}  Forster suggests that Swift wrote “Frond” or “Frowde” and there is
+every reason to believe that this was the case.  No Colonel Proud appears
+in Dalton’s _Army Lists_.  A Colonel William Frowde, apparently third son
+of Sir Philip Frowde, Knight, by his third wife, Margaret, daughter of
+Sir John Ashburnham, was appointed Lieutenant-Colonel in Colonel
+Farrington’s (see 59) Regiment of Foot in 1694.  He resigned his
+commission on his appointment to the First Life Guards in 1702, and he
+was in this latter regiment in 1704.  In November and December 1711 Swift
+wrote of Philip Frowde the elder (Colonel William Frowde’s brother) as
+“an old fool,” in monetary difficulties.  It is probable that Swift’s
+Colonel Proud (? Frowde) was not Colonel William Frowde, but his nephew,
+Philip Frowde, junior, who was Addison’s friend at Oxford, and the author
+of two tragedies and various poems.  Nothing seems known of Philip
+Frowde’s connection with the army, but he is certainly called “Colonel”
+by Swift, Addison, and Pope (see Forster’s _Swift_, 159; Addison’s
+_Works_, v. 324; Pope’s _Works_, v. 177, vi. 227).  Swift wrote to
+Ambrose Philips in 1705, “Col. Frond is just as he was, very friendly and
+_grand rêveur et distrait_.  He has brought his poems almost to
+perfection.”  It will be observed that when Swift met Colonel “Proud” he
+was in company with Addison, as was also the case when he was with
+Colonel “Freind” (p. 11).
+
+{58b}  Charles Davenant, LL.D., educated at Balliol College, Oxford, was
+the eldest son of Sir William Davenant, author of _Gondibert_.  In
+Parliament he attacked Ministerial abuses with great bitterness until, in
+1703, he was made secretary to the Commissioners appointed to treat for a
+union with Scotland.  To this post was added, in 1705, an
+Inspector-Generalship of Exports and Imports, which he retained until his
+death in 1714.  _Tom Double_, a satire on his change of front after
+obtaining his place, was published in 1704.  In a Note on Macky’s
+character of Davenant, Swift says, “He ruined his estate, which put him
+under a necessity to comply with the times.” Davenant’s _True Picture of
+a Modern Whig_, _in Two Parts_, appeared in 1701–2; in 1707 he published
+_The True Picture of a Modern Whig revived_, _set forth in a third
+dialogue between Whiglove and Double_, which seems to be the piece
+mentioned in the text, though Swift speaks of the pamphlet as “lately put
+out.”
+
+{58c}  Hugh Chamberlen, the younger (1664–1728), was a Fellow of the
+College of Physicians and Censor in 1707, 1717, and 1721.  Atterbury and
+the Duchess of Buckingham and Normanby were among his fashionable
+patients.  His father, Hugh Chamberlen, M.D., was the author of the Land
+Bank Scheme of 1693–94.
+
+{58d}  Sir John Holland (see p. 11).
+
+{59a}  Swift may mean either rambling or gambolling.
+
+{59b}  Thomas Farrington was appointed Colonel of the newly raised 29th
+Regiment of Foot in 1702.  He was a subscriber for a copy of the _Tatler_
+on royal paper (Aitken, _Life of Steele_, i. 329, 330).
+
+{59c}  In _The History of Vanbrugh’s House_, Swift described everyone as
+hunting for it up and down the river banks, and unable to find it, until
+at length they—
+
+    “— in the rubbish spy
+    A thing resembling a goose pie.”
+
+Sir John Vanbrugh was more successful as a dramatist than as an
+architect, though his work at Blenheim and elsewhere has many merits.
+
+{59d}  For the successes of the last campaign.
+
+{60a}  John Sheffield, third Earl of Mulgrave, was created Duke of
+Buckingham and Normanby in 1703, and died in 1721.  On Queen Anne’s
+accession he became Lord Privy Seal, and on the return of the Tories to
+power in 1710 he was Lord Steward, and afterward (June 1710) Lord
+President of the Council.  The Duke was a poet, as well as a soldier and
+statesman, his best known work being the _Essay on Poetry_.  He was
+Dryden’s patron, and Pope prepared a collected edition of his works.
+
+{60b}  Laurence Hyde, created Earl of Rochester in 1682, died in 1711.
+He was the Hushai of Dryden’s _Absalom and Achitophel_, “the friend of
+David in distress.”  In 1684 he was made Lord President of the Council,
+and on the accession of James II., Lord Treasurer; he was, however,
+dismissed in 1687.  Under William III. Rochester was Lord Lieutenant of
+Ireland, an office he resigned in 1703; and in September 1710 he again
+became Lord President.  His imperious temper always stood in the way of
+popularity or real success.
+
+{60c}  Sir Thomas Osborne, Charles II.’s famous Minister, was elevated to
+the peerage in 1673, and afterwards was made successively Earl of Danby,
+Marquis of Caermarthen, and Duke of Leeds.  On Nov. 29, 1710, a few days
+after this reference to him, the Duke was granted a pension of £3500 a
+year out of the Post Office revenues.  He died in July 1712, aged
+eighty-one, and soon afterwards his grandson married Lord Oxford’s
+daughter.
+
+{60d}  See p. 12.
+
+{60e}  See p. 48.
+
+{60f}  See p. 11.
+
+{60g}  See p. 52.
+
+{60h}  This is, of course, a joke; Swift was never introduced at Court.
+
+{60i}  Captain Delaval (see p. 23).
+
+{60j}  Admiral Sir Charles Wager (1666–1743) served in the West Indies
+from 1707 to 1709, and gained great wealth from the prizes he took.
+Under George I. he was Comptroller of the Navy, and in 1733 he became
+First Lord of the Admiralty, a post which he held until 1742.
+
+{60k}  See p. 52.
+
+{60l}  See p. 24.
+
+{60m}  Isaac Bickerstaff’s “valentine” sent him a nightcap, finely
+wrought by a maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth (_Tatler_, No. 141).  The
+“nightcap” was a periwig with a short tie and small round head, and
+embroidered nightcaps were worn chiefly by members of the graver
+professions.
+
+{61a}  _Tatler_, No. 237.
+
+{61b}  _Tatler_, No. 230.
+
+{62a}  See pp. 32, 68.
+
+   {62b}  “Returning home at night, you’ll find the sink
+   Strike your offended sense with double stink.”
+
+                                 (Description of a City Shower, ll. 5, 6.)
+
+{62c}  Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.
+
+{63a}  See p. 1.
+
+{63b}  See p. 55.
+
+{64a}  See p. 34.
+
+{64b}  See p. 2.
+
+{65}  The bellman’s accents.  Cf. Pepys’ _Diary_, Jan. 16, 1659–60: “I
+staid up till the bellman came by with his bell just under my window as I
+was writing of this very line, and cried, ‘Past one of the clock, and a
+cold, frosty, windy morning.’”
+
+{66a}  John Freind, M.D. (1675–1728), was a younger brother of the Robert
+Freind, of Westminster School, mentioned elsewhere in the _Journal_.
+Educated under Dr. Busby at Westminster, he was in 1694 elected a student
+of Christ Church, where he made the acquaintance of Atterbury, and
+supported Boyle against Bentley in the dispute as to the authorship of
+the letters of Phalaris.  In 1705 he attended the Earl of Peterborough to
+Spain, and in the following year wrote a defence of that commander
+(_Account of the Earl of Peterborough’s Conduct in Spain_).  A steady
+Tory, he took a share in the defence of Dr. Sacheverell; and in 1723,
+when M.P. for Launceston, he fell under the suspicion of the Government,
+and was sent to the Tower.  On the accession of George II., however, he
+came into favour with the Court, and died Physician to the Queen.
+
+{66b}  See p. 59.
+
+{66c}  St. John was thirty-two in October 1710.  He had been Secretary at
+War six years before, resigning with Harley in 1707.  Swift repeats this
+comparison elsewhere.  Temple was forty-six when he refused a
+Secretaryship of State in 1674.
+
+{66d}  Sir Henry St. John seems to have continued a gay man to the end of
+his life.  In his youth he was tried and convicted for the murder of Sir
+William Estcourt in a duel (Scott).  In 1716, after his son had been
+attainted, he was made Viscount St. John.  He died in 1742, aged ninety.
+
+{67a}  See p. 4.
+
+{67b}  “Swift delighted to let his pen run into such rhymes as these,
+which he generally passes off as old proverbs” (Scott).  Many of the
+charming scraps of “Old Ballads” and “Old Plays” at the head of Scott’s
+own chapters are in reality the result of his own imagination.
+
+{67c}  See p. 10.
+
+{67d}  Sir Richard Levinge, Bart., had been Solicitor-General for Ireland
+from 1704 to 1709, and was Attorney-General from 1711 to 1714.
+Afterwards he was Speaker of the Irish House of Commons and Chief-Justice
+of the Common Pleas in Ireland.
+
+{68a}  See pp. 32, 62.
+
+{68b}  See p. 6.
+
+{68c}  Thomas Belasyse, second Viscount Fauconberg, or Falconbridge (died
+1700), a nobleman of hereditary loyalty, married, in 1657, the
+Protector’s youngest daughter, Mary Cromwell, who is represented as a
+lady of high talent and spirit.  She died on March 14, 1712.  Burnet
+describes her as “a wise and worthy woman,” who would have had a better
+prospect of maintaining her father’s post than either of her brothers.
+
+{69a}  Richard Freeman, Chief Baron, was Lord Chancellor of Ireland from
+1707 until his death in November 1710.
+
+{69b}  See p. 49.
+
+{69c}  Sir Richard Cox, Bart. (1650–1733), was Lord Chancellor of Ireland
+from 1703 to 1707.  In 1711 he was appointed Chief-Justice of the Queen’s
+Bench, but he was removed from office on the death of Queen Anne.  His
+zealous Protestantism sometimes caused his views to be warped, but he was
+honest and well-principled.
+
+{69d}  Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bart. (1676–1746), succeeded Bromley as Speaker
+in 1714.  In February 1713 Swift said, “He is the most considerable man
+in the House of Commons.”  His edition of Shakespeare was published by
+the University of Oxford in 1743–44.  Pope called it “pompous,” and
+sneered at Hanmer’s “superior air” (_Dunciad_, iv. 105).
+
+{70}  See p. 24.
+
+{72a}  Elliot was keeper of the St. James’s Coffee-house (see 2).
+
+{72b}  Forster suggested that the true reading is “writhing.”  If so, it
+is not necessary to suppose that Lady Giffard was the cause of it.
+Perhaps it is the word “tiger” that is corrupt.
+
+{72c}  The Hon. Charles Boyle (1676–1731), of the Boyle and Bentley
+controversy, succeeded to the peerage as Lord Orrery in 1703.  When he
+settled in London he became the centre of a Christ Church set, a strong
+adherent of Harley’s party, and a member of Swift’s “club.”  His son
+John, fifth Earl of Orrery, published _Remarks on the Life and Writings
+of Jonathan Swift_ in 1751.
+
+{73a}  William Domville, a landed proprietor in County Dublin, whom Swift
+called “perfectly as fine a gentleman as I know.”
+
+{73b}  On May 16, 1711, Swift wrote, “There will be an old to do.”  The
+word is found in Elizabethan writers in the sense of “more than enough.”
+Cf. _Macbeth_, ii. 3: “If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have
+old turning the key.”
+
+{73c}  See p. 9.  Clements was related to Pratt, the Deputy
+Vice-Treasurer, and was probably the Robert Clements who became Deputy
+Vice-Treasurer, and whose grandson Robert was created Earl of Leitrim in
+1795.
+
+{73d}  See p. 24.
+
+{74a}  Swift’s sister Jane, who had married a currier in Bride Street,
+named Joseph Fenton, a match to which Swift strongly objected.  Deane
+Swift says that Swift never saw his sister again after the marriage; he
+had offered her £500 if she would show a “proper disdain” of Fenton.  On
+her husband’s dying bankrupt, however, Swift paid her an annuity until
+1738, when she died in the same lodging with Esther Johnson’s mother,
+Mrs. Bridget Mose, at Farnham (Forster’s _Swift_, pp. 118–19).
+
+{74b}  Welbore Ellis, appointed Bishop of Kildare in 1705.  He was
+translated to Meath in 1731, and died three years later.
+
+{74c}  The expression of the Archbishop is, “I am not to conceal from you
+that some expressed a little jealously, that you would not be acceptable
+to the present courtiers; intimating that you were under the reputation
+of being a favourite of the late party in power” (King to Swift, Nov. 2,
+1710).
+
+{75}  This indignant letter is dated Nov. 23, 1710.  It produced an
+apologetic reply from the Archbishop (Nov. 30, 1710), who represented
+that the letter to Southwell was a snare laid in his way, since if he
+declined signing it, it might have been interpreted into disrespect to
+the Duke of Ormond.  Of the bishops King said, “You cannot do yourself a
+greater service than to bring this to a good issue, to their shame and
+conviction.”
+
+{76a}  William Bromley (died 1732) was M.P. for the University of Oxford.
+A good debater and a strong High Churchman, he was Secretary of State
+from August 1713 until the Queen’s death in the following year.
+
+{76b}  Colonel, afterwards Major-General, John Hill (died 1735) was
+younger brother of Mrs. Masham, the Queen’s favourite, and a poor
+relation of the Duchess of Marlborough.  He was wounded at Mons in 1709,
+and in 1711 was sent on an unsuccessful expedition to attack the French
+settlements in North America.  In 1713 he was appointed to command the
+troops at Dunkirk.
+
+{76c}  “The footmen in attendance at the Houses of Parliament used at
+this time to form themselves into a deliberative body, and usually
+debated the same points with their masters.  It was jocularly said that
+several questions were lost by the Court party in the menial House of
+Lords which were carried triumphantly in the real assembly; which was at
+length explained by a discovery that the Scottish peers whose votes were
+sometimes decisive of a question had but few representatives in the
+convocation of lacqueys.  The sable attendant mentioned by Swift, being
+an appendage of the brother of Mrs. Masham, the reigning favourite, had a
+title to the chair, the Court and Tory interest being exerted in his
+favour” (Scott).  Steele alludes to the “Footmen’s Parliament” in No. 88
+of the _Spectator_.
+
+{77a}  See p. 1.
+
+{77b}  A Court of Equity abolished in the reign of Charles I.  It met in
+the _Camera Alba_, or Whitehall, and the room appears to have retained
+the name of the old Court.
+
+{78a}  See p. 24.
+
+{78b}  Swift’s first contribution to the _Examiner_ (No. 13) is dated
+Nov. 2, 1710.
+
+{78c}  Seduced, induced.  Dryden (_Spanish Friar_) has “To debauch a king
+to break his laws.”
+
+{80a}  Freeman (see p. 69).
+
+{80b}  “To make this intelligible, it is necessary to observe, that the
+words ‘_this fortnight_’, in the preceding sentence, were first written
+in what he calls their little language, and afterwards scratched out and
+written plain.  It must be confessed this little language, which passed
+current between Swift and Stella, has occasioned infinite trouble in the
+revisal of these papers” (Deane Swift).
+
+{80c}  Trim.  An attack upon the liberties of this corporation is among
+the political offences of Wharton’s Lieutenancy of Ireland set forth in
+Swift’s _Short Character of the Earl of Wharton_.
+
+{80d}  Apologies.
+
+{80e}  “A Description of the Morning,” in No. 9 of the _Tatler_.
+
+{81a}  See p. 38.
+
+{81b}  William Palliser (died 1726).
+
+{81c}  See p. 20.
+
+{81d}  “Here he writ with his eyes shut; and the writing is somewhat
+crooked, although as well in other respects as if his eyes had been open”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{81e}  _Tatler_, No. 249; cf. p. 93.  During this visit to London Swift
+contributed to only three _Tatlers_, viz. Nos. 230, 238, and 258.
+
+{81f}  St. Andrew’s Day.
+
+{82a}  No. 241.
+
+{82b}  _Tatler_, No. 258.
+
+{84a}  Lieutenant-General Philip Bragg, Colonel of the 28th Regiment of
+Foot, and M.P. for Armagh, died in 1759.
+
+{84b}  James Cecil, fifth Earl of Salisbury, who died in 1728.
+
+{84c}  See p. 5.
+
+{84d}  See p. 60.
+
+{84e}  Kneller seems never to have painted Swift’s portrait.
+
+{85a}  On Nov. 25 and 28.
+
+{85b}  Arthur Annesley, M.P. for Cambridge University, had recently
+become fifth Earl of Anglesea, on the death of his brother (see p. 13).
+Under George I. he was Joint Treasurer of Ireland, and Treasurer at War.
+
+{85c}  _A Short Character of the Earl of Wharton_, by Swift himself,
+though the authorship was not suspected at the time.  “Archbishop King,”
+says Scott, “would have hardly otherwise ventured to mention it to Swift
+in his letter of Jan. 9, 1710, as ‘a wound given in the dark.’”
+Elsewhere, however, in a note, Swift hints that Archbishop King was
+really aware of the authorship of the pamphlet.
+
+{86a}  A false report: see p. 88 below.
+
+{86b}  None of these Commissioners of Revenue lost their places at this
+time.  Samuel Ogle was Commissioner from 1699 to 1714; John South from
+1696 until his death in 1711; and Sir William St. Quintin, Bart., from
+1706 to 1713.  Stephen Ludlow succeeded South in September 1711.
+
+{86c}  See p. 53.
+
+{86d}  James Hamilton, sixth Earl of Abercorn (1656–1734), a Scotch peer
+who had strongly supported the Union of 1706.
+
+{87a}  L’Estrange speaks of “insipid twittle twattles.” Johnson calls
+this “a vile word.”
+
+{87b}  A cousin of Swift’s; probably a son of William Swift.
+
+{87c}  Nicholas Sankey (died 1722) succeeded Lord Lovelace as Colonel of
+a Regiment of Foot in Ireland in 1689.  He became Brigadier-General in
+1704, Major-General 1707, and Lieutenant-General 1710.  He served in
+Spain, and was taken prisoner at the battle of the Caya in 1709.
+
+{88a}  See p. 88.
+
+{88b}  The Earl of Abercorn (see p. 86) married, in 1686, Elizabeth, only
+child of Sir Robert Reading, Bart., of Dublin, by Jane, Dowager Countess
+of Mountrath.  Lady Abercorn survived her husband twenty years, dying in
+1754, aged eighty-six.
+
+{88c}  Charles Lennox, first Duke of Richmond and Gordon (1672–1723), was
+the illegitimate son of Charles II. by Madame de Querouaille.
+
+{88d}  Sir Robert Raymond, afterwards Lord Raymond (1673–1733), M.P. for
+Bishop’s Castle, Shropshire, was appointed Solicitor-General in May 1710,
+and was knighted in October.  He was removed from office on the accession
+of George I., but was made Attorney-General in 1720, and in 1724 became a
+judge of the King’s Bench.  In the following year he was made Lord
+Chief-Justice, and was distinguished both for his learning and his
+impartiality.
+
+{88e}  Lynn-Regis.
+
+{88f}  Richard Savage, fourth Earl Rivers, the father of Richard Savage,
+the poet.  Under the Whigs Lord Rivers was Envoy to Hanover; and after
+his conversion by Harley, he was Constable of the Tower under the Tories.
+He died in 1712.
+
+{89a}  Chancellor of the Exchequer in Ireland from 1695 until his death
+in 1717.
+
+{89b}  Lord Shelburne’s clever sister, Anne, only daughter of Sir William
+Petty, and wife of Thomas Fitzmaurice, Lord of Kerry, afterwards created
+first Earl of Kerry.
+
+{89c}  Mrs. Pratt, an Irish friend of Lady Kerry, lodged at Lord
+Shelburne’s during her visit to London.  The reference to Clements (see
+p. 73), Pratt’s relative, in the _Journal_ for April 14, 1711, makes it
+clear that Mrs. Pratt was the wife of the Deputy Vice-Treasurer of
+Ireland, to whom Swift often alludes (see p. 9).
+
+{89d}  Lieutenant-General Thomas Meredith, Major-General Maccartney, and
+Brigadier Philip Honeywood.  They alleged that their offence only
+amounted to drinking a health to the Duke of Marlborough, and confusion
+to his enemies.  But the Government said that an example must be made,
+because various officers had dropped dangerous expressions about standing
+by their General, Marlborough, who was believed to be aiming at being
+made Captain General for life.  For Maccartney see the _Journal_ for Nov.
+15, 1712, seq.  Meredith, who was appointed Adjutant-General of the
+Forces in 1701, was made a Lieutenant-General in 1708.  He saw much
+service under William III., and Marlborough, and was elected M.P. for
+Midhurst in 1709.  He died in 1719 (Dalton’s _Army Lists_, iii. 181).
+Honeywood entered the army in 1694; was at Namur; and was made a
+Brigadier-General before 1711.  After the accession of George I. he
+became Colonel of a Regiment of Dragoons, and commanded a division at
+Dettingen.  At his death in 1752 he was acting as Governor of Portsmouth,
+with the rank of General (Dalton, iv. 30).
+
+{90a}  Or “malkin”; a counterfeit, or scarecrow.
+
+{90b}  William Cadogan, Lieutenant-General and afterwards Earl Cadogan
+(1675–1726), a great friend of Marlborough, was Envoy to the United
+Provinces and Spanish Flanders.  Cadogan retained the post of Lieutenant
+to the Tower until 1715.
+
+{90c}  Earl Cadogan’s father, Henry Cadogan, barrister, married Bridget,
+daughter of Sir Hardresse Waller, and sister of Elizabeth, Baroness
+Shelburne in her own right.
+
+{90d}  See p. 28.
+
+{90e}  Cadogan married Margaretta, daughter of William Munter, Counsellor
+of the Court of Holland.
+
+{91a}  Presumably the eldest son, William, who succeeded his father as
+second Earl of Kerry in 1741, and died in 1747.  He was at Eton and
+Christ Church, Oxford, and was afterwards a Colonel in the Coldstream
+Guards.
+
+{91b}  Henry Petty, third Lord Shelburne, who became Earl of Shelburne in
+1719.  His son predeceased him, without issue, and on Lord Shelburne’s
+death, in 1751, his honours became extinct.  His daughter Anne also died
+without issue.
+
+{91c}  The menagerie, which had been one of the sights of London, was
+removed from the Tower in 1834.  In his account of the Tory Fox Hunter in
+No. 47 of the _Freeholder_, Addison says, “Our first visit was to the
+lions.”
+
+{91d}  Bethlehem Hospital, for lunatics, in Moorfields, was a popular
+“sight” in the eighteenth century.  Cf. the _Tatler_, No. 30: “On Tuesday
+last I took three lads, who are under my guardianship, a rambling, in a
+hackney coach, to show them the town: as the lions, the tombs, Bedlam.”
+
+{91e}  The Royal Society met at Gresham College from 1660 to 1710.  The
+professors of the College lectured on divinity, civil law, astronomy,
+music, geometry, rhetoric, and physic.
+
+{91f}  The most important of the puppet-shows was Powell’s, in the Little
+Piazza, Covent Garden, which is frequently mentioned in the _Tatler_.
+
+{91g}  The precise nature this negligent costume is not known, but it is
+always decried by popular writers of the time.
+
+{91h}  Retched.  Bacon has “Patients must not keck at them at the first.”
+
+{92a}  Swift was born on November 30.
+
+{92b}  Mrs. De la Riviere Manley, daughter of Sir Roger Manley, and
+cousin of John Manley, M.P., and Isaac Manley (see pp. 7, 24), wrote
+poems and plays, but is best known for her _Secret Memoirs and Manners of
+Several Persons of Quality_, _of both sexes_.  _From the New Atalantis_,
+1709, a book abounding in scandalous references to her contemporaries.
+She was arrested in October, but was discharged in Feb. 1710.  In May
+1710 she brought out a continuation of the _New Atalantis_, called
+_Memoirs of Europe towards the Close of the Eighth Century_.  In June
+1711 she became editress of the Tory _Examiner_, and wrote political
+pamphlets with Swift’s assistance.  Afterwards she lived with Alderman
+Barber, the printer, at whose office she died in 1724.  In her will she
+mentioned her “much honoured friend, the Dean of St. Patrick, Dr. Swift.”
+
+{92c}  “He seems to have written these words in a whim; for the sake of
+what follows” (Deane Swift).
+
+{93a}  See p. 62.
+
+{93b}  No. 249 (see p. 81).
+
+{94a}  See p. 30.
+
+{94b}  In a letter to the Rev. Dr. Tisdall, of Dec. 16, 1703, Swift said:
+“I’ll teach you a way to outwit Mrs. Johnson: it is a new-fashioned way
+of being witty, and they call it a _bite_.  You must ask a bantering
+question, or tell some damned lie in a serious manner, and then she will
+answer or speak as if you were in earnest; and then cry you, ‘Madam,
+there’s a _bite_!’  I would not have you undervalue this, for it is the
+constant amusement in Court, and everywhere else among the great people.”
+See, too, the _Tatler_, No. 12, and _Spectator_, Nos. 47, 504: “In a
+word, a Biter is one who thinks you a fool, because you do not think him
+a knave.”
+
+{94c}  See p. 66.
+
+{95a}  “As I hope to be saved;” a favourite phrase in the _Journal_.
+
+{95b}  See p. 48.
+
+{95c}  This statement receives some confirmation from a pamphlet
+published in September 1710, called _A Condoling Letter to the Tatler_:
+_On Account of the Misfortunes of Isaac Bickerstaf Esq._, _a Prisoner in
+the — on Suspicion of Debt_.
+
+{95d}  Dr. Lambert, chaplain to Lord Wharton, was censured in Convocation
+for being the author of a libellous letter.
+
+{95e}  Probably the same person as Dr. Griffith, spoken of in the
+_Journal_ for March 3, 1713,—when he was ill,—as having been “very tender
+of” Stella.
+
+{96a}  See p. 74, note 1.
+
+{96b}  Vexed, offended.  Elsewhere Swift wrote, “I am apt to grate the
+ears of more than I could wish.”
+
+{96c}  Ambrose Philips, whose Pastorals had been published in the same
+volume of Tonson’s _Miscellany_ as Pope’s.  Two years later Swift wrote,
+“I should certainly have provided for him had he not run party mad.”  In
+1712 his play, _The Distrest Mother_, received flattering notice in the
+_Spectator_, and in 1713, to Pope’s annoyance, Philips’ Pastorals were
+praised in the _Guardian_.  His pretty poems to children led Henry Carey
+to nickname him “Namby Pamby.”
+
+{97a}  An equestrian statue of William III., in College Green, Dublin.
+It was common, in the days of party, for students of the University of
+Dublin to play tricks with this statue.
+
+{97b}  Lieutenant-General Richard Ingoldsby (died 1712) was Commander of
+the Forces in Ireland, and one of the Lords Justices in the absence of
+the Lord Lieutenant.
+
+{97c}  This seems to have been a mistake; cf. _Journal_ for July 13,
+1711, Alan Brodrick, afterwards Viscount Midleton, a Whig politician and
+lawyer, was made Chief Justice of the Queen’s Bench in Ireland in 1709,
+but was removed from office in June 1711, when Sir Richard Cox succeeded
+him.  On the accession of George I. he was appointed Lord Chancellor for
+Ireland.  Afterwards he declined to accept the dedication to him of
+Swift’s _Drapiers Letters_, and supported the prosecution of the author.
+He died in 1728.
+
+{97d}  Robert Doyne was appointed Chief Baron of the Exchequer in Ireland
+in 1695, and Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in 1703.  This appointment
+was revoked on the accession of George I.
+
+{97e}  See p. 69.
+
+{97f}  Of the University of Dublin.
+
+{98a}  See pp. 6, 7.  Sir Thomas Frankland’s eldest son, Thomas, who
+afterwards succeeded to the baronetcy, acquired a fortune with his first
+wife, Dinah, daughter of Francis Topham, of Agelthorpe, Yorkshire.  He
+died in 1747.
+
+{98b}  See p. 60.
+
+{98c}  See p. 20.
+
+{99a}  Mary, daughter of Sir John Williams, Bart., and widow of Charles
+Petty, second Lord Shelburne, who died in 1696.  She had married, as her
+second husband, Major-General Conyngham, and, as her third husband,
+Colonel Dallway.
+
+{99b}  Dr. John Vesey became Bishop of Limerick in 1672, and Archbishop
+of Tuam in 1678.  He died in 1716.
+
+{100a}  See p. 14.
+
+{100b}  Sex.
+
+{100c}  Toby Caulfeild, third son of the fifth Lord Charlemont.  In 1689
+he was Colonel to the Earl of Drogheda’s Regiment of Foot, and about 1705
+he succeeded to the command of Lord Skerrin’s Regiment of Foot.  After
+serving in Spain his regiment was reduced, having lost most of its men
+(Luttrell, vi. 158).
+
+{101a}  John Campbell, second Duke of Argyle (1680–1743), was installed a
+Knight of the Garter in December 1710, after he had successfully opposed
+a vote of thanks to Marlborough, with whom he had quarrelled.  It was of
+this nobleman that Pope wrote—
+
+    “Argyle, the State’s whole thunder born to wield,
+    And shake alike the senate and the field.”
+
+In a note to Macky’s _Memoirs_, Swift describes the Duke as an
+“ambitious, covetous, cunning Scot, who had no principle but his own
+interests and greatness.”
+
+{101b}  Harley’s second wife, Sarah, daughter of Simon Middleton, of
+Edmonton, and sister of Sir Hugh Middleton, Bart.  She died, without
+issue, in 1737.
+
+{101c}  Elizabeth Harley, then unmarried, the daughter of Harley’s first
+wife, Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Foley, of Whitley Court,
+Worcestershire.  She subsequently married the Marquis of Caermarthen,
+afterwards Duke of Leeds.
+
+{101d}  Harcourt (see p. 11).
+
+{102}  William Stawel, the third baron, who succeeded to the title in
+1692, was half-brother to the second Baron Stawel.  The brother here
+referred to was Edward, who succeeded to the title as fourth baron in
+1742.
+
+{104a}  Charles Finch, third Earl of Winchelsea, son of Lord Maidstone,
+and grandson of Heneage, second Earl of Winchelsea.  On his death in 1712
+Swift spoke of him as “a worthy honest gentleman, and particular friend
+of mine.”
+
+{104b}  Vedeau was a shopkeeper, who abandoned his trade for the army
+(_Journal_, March 28, April 4, 1711).  Swift calls him “a lieutenant, who
+is now broke, and upon half pay” (_Journal_, Nov. 18, 1712).
+
+{104c}  Sir Edmund Bacon, Bart. (died 1721), of Herringflat, Suffolk,
+succeeded his father in the baronetcy in 1686.
+
+{104d}  The reverse at Brihuega.
+
+{104e}  See p. 57.
+
+{106a}  John Barber, a printer, became Lord Mayor of London in 1732, and
+died in 1741.  Mrs. Manley was his mistress, and died at his printing
+office.  Swift speaks of Barber as his “very good and old friend.”
+
+{106b}  Bernage was an officer serving under Colonel Fielding.  In August
+1710 a difficulty arose through Arbuthnot trying to get his brother
+George made Captain over Bernage’s head; but ultimately Arbuthnot waived
+the business, because he would not wrong a friend of Swift’s.
+
+{106c}  See p. 99.
+
+{107a}  George Smalridge (1663–1719), the High Church divine and popular
+preacher, was made Dean of Carlisle in 1711, and Bishop of Bristol in
+1714.  Steele spoke of him in the _Tatler_ (Nos. 73, 114) as “abounding
+in that sort of virtue and knowledge which makes religion beautiful.”
+
+{107b}  St. Albans Street, Pall Mall, was removed in 1815 to make way for
+Waterloo Place.  It was named after Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans.
+
+{109}  See p. 100
+
+{112a}  Algernon Seymour, Earl of Hertford (1684–1750), only son of
+Charles Seymour, Duke of Somerset.  Lord Hertford succeeded to the
+dukedom in 1748.  From 1708 to 1722 he was M.P. for Northumberland, and
+from 1708 to 1713 he took an active part in the war in Flanders.
+
+{112b}  See p. 17.
+
+{112c}  _A Short Character of the Earl of Wharton_ (see p. 85).
+
+{112d}  See 69.
+
+{113}  Henry Herbert, the last Baron Herbert of Cherbury, succeeded to
+the peerage in 1709, and soon afterwards married a sister of the Earl of
+Portsmouth.  A ruined man, he committed suicide in 1738.
+
+{114}  Nos. 257, 260.
+
+{115a}  See p. 26.
+
+{115b}  “_After_ is interlined” (Deane Swift).
+
+{115c}  With this account may be compared what Pope says, as recorded in
+Spence’s _Anecdotes_, p. 223: “Lord Peterborough could dictate letters to
+nine amanuenses together, as I was assured by a gentleman who saw him do
+it when Ambassador at Turin.  He walked round the room, and told each of
+them in his turn what he was to write.  One perhaps was a letter to the
+emperor, another to an old friend, a third to a mistress, a fourth to a
+statesman, and so on: yet he carried so many and so different connections
+in his head, all at the same time.”
+
+{116a}  Francis Atterbury, Dean of Carlisle, had taken an active part in
+the defence of Dr. Sacheverell.  After a long period of suspense he
+received the appointment of Dean of Christ Church, and in 1713 he was
+made Bishop of Rochester and Dean of Westminster.  Atterbury was on
+intimate terms with Swift, Pope, and other writers on the Tory side, and
+Addison—at whose funeral the Bishop officiated—described him as “one of
+the greatest geniuses of his age.”
+
+{116b}  John Carteret, second Baron Carteret, afterwards to be well known
+as a statesman, succeeded to the peerage in 1695, and became Earl
+Granville and Viscount Carteret on the death of his brother in 1744.  He
+died in 1763.  In October 1710, when twenty years of age, he had married
+Frances, only daughter of Sir Robert Worsley, Bart., of Appuldurcombe,
+Isle of Wight.
+
+{117a}  Dillon Ashe, D.D., Vicar of Finglas, and brother of the Bishop of
+Clogher.  In 1704 he was made Archdeacon of Clogher, and in 1706
+Chancellor of Armagh.  He seems to have been too fond of drink.
+
+{117b}  Henley (see p. 37) married Mary, daughter of Peregrine Bertie,
+the second son of Montagu, Earl of Lindsey, and with her obtained a
+fortune of £30,000.  After Henley’s death his widow married her relative,
+Henry Bertie, third son of James, Earl of Abingdon.
+
+{117c}  Hebrews v. 6.
+
+{118a}  Probably Mrs. Manley and John Barber (see pp. 92, 106).
+
+{118b}  Sir Andrew Fountaine’s (see p. 28) father, Andrew Fountaine,
+M.P., married Sarah, daughter of Sir Thomas Chicheley, Master of the
+Ordnance.  Sir Andrew’s sister, Elizabeth, married Colonel Edward Clent.
+The “scoundrel brother,” Brig, died in 1746, aged sixty-four
+(Blomefield’s _Norfolk_, vi. 233–36).
+
+{118c}  Dame Overdo, the justice’s wife in Ben Jonson’s _Bartholomew
+Fair_.
+
+{119a}  See p. 7.
+
+{119b}  Atterbury, who had recently been elected Prolocutor to the Lower
+House of Convocation.
+
+{120a}  Dr. Sterne, Dean of St. Patrick’s, was not married.
+
+{120b}  January 6 was Twelfth-night.
+
+{120c}  Garraway’s Coffee-house, in Change Alley, was founded by Thomas
+Garway, the first coffee-man who sold and retailed tea.  A room upstairs
+was used for sales of wine “by the candle.”
+
+{120d}  Sir Constantine Phipps, who had taken an active part in
+Sacheverell’s defence.  Phipps’ interference in elections in the Tory
+interest made him very unpopular in Dublin, and he was recalled on the
+death of Queen Anne.
+
+{120e}  Joseph Trapp, one of the seven poets alluded to in the distich:—
+
+    “Alma novem genuit celebres Rhedycina poetas,
+    Bubb, Stubb, Grubb, Crabb, Trapp, Young, Carey, Tickell, Evans.”
+
+Trapp wrote a tragedy in 1704, and in 1708 was chosen the first Professor
+of Poetry at Oxford.  In 1710 he published pamphlets on behalf of
+Sacheverell, and in 1712 Swift secured for him the post of chaplain to
+Bolingbroke.  During his latter years he held several good livings.
+Elsewhere Swift calls him a “coxcomb.”
+
+{120f}  See p. 50.
+
+{121}  The extreme Tories, who afterwards formed the October Club.
+
+{122}  Crowd.  A Jacobean writer speaks of “the lurry of lawyers,” and “a
+lurry and rabble of poor friars.”
+
+{123a}  See p. 24, note 3.
+
+{123b}  St. John’s first wife was Frances, daughter and co-heiress of Sir
+Henry Winchcombe, Bart., of Berkshire, and in her right St. John enjoyed
+the estates of Bucklebury, which on her death in 1718 passed to her
+sister.  In April 1711 Swift said that “poor Mrs. St. John” was growing a
+great favourite of his; she was going to Bath owing to ill-health, and
+begged him to take care of her husband.  She “said she had none to trust
+but me, and the poor creature’s tears came fresh in her eyes.”  Though
+the marriage was, naturally enough, unhappy, she did not leave St. John’s
+house until 1713, and she returned to him when he fell from power.  There
+are letters from her to Swift as late as 1716, not only doing her best to
+defend his honour, but speaking of him with tenderness.
+
+{123c}  “Battoon” means (1) a truncheon; (2) a staff of office.
+Luttrell, in 1704, speaks of “a battoon set with diamonds sent him from
+the French king.”
+
+{124a}  Edward Harley, second son of Sir Edward Harley, was M.P. for
+Leominster and Recorder of the same town.  In 1702 he was appointed
+Auditor of the Imposts, a post which he held until his death in 1735.
+His wife, Sarah, daughter of Thomas Foley, was a sister of Robert
+Harley’s wife, and his eldest son eventually became third Earl of Oxford.
+Harley published several books on biblical subjects.
+
+{124b}  See p. 36.  The last number of Steele’s _Tatler_ appeared on Jan.
+2, 1711; Harrison’s paper reached to fifty-two numbers.
+
+{124c}  Dryden Leach (see p. 51).
+
+{125a}  Cf. Letter 7, October 28th.
+
+{125b}  Published by John Baker and John Morphew.  See Aitken’s _Life of
+Steele_, i. 299–301.
+
+{125c}  In No. 224 of the _Tatler_, Addison, speaking of polemical
+advertisements, says: “The inventors of Strops for Razors have written
+against one another this way for several years, and that with great
+bitterness.”  See also _Spectator_, Nos. 428, 509, and the _Postman_ for
+March 23, 1703: “The so much famed strops for setting razors, etc., are
+only to be had at Jacob’s Coffee-house. . . .  Beware of counterfeits,
+for such are abroad.”
+
+{126a}  Sir John Holland (see p. 11).
+
+{126b}  Addison speaks of a fine flaxen long wig costing thirty guineas
+(_Guardian_, No. 97), and Duumvir’s fair wig, which Phillis threw into
+the fire, cost forty guineas (_Tatler_, No. 54)
+
+{127a}  Swift’s mother, Abigail Erick, was of a Leicestershire family,
+and after her husband’s death she spent much of her time with her friends
+near her old home.  Mr. Worrall, vicar of St. Patrick’s, with whom Swift
+was on terms of intimacy in 1728–29, was evidently a relative of the
+Worralls where Mrs. Swift had lodged, and we may reasonably suppose that
+he owed the living to Swift’s interest in the family.
+
+{127b}  The title of a humorous poem by Lydgate.  A “lickpenny” is a
+greedy or grasping person.
+
+{128a}  Small wooden blocks used for lighting fires.  See Swift
+(“Description of the Morning”),
+
+    “The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep,
+    Till drowned in shriller notes of chimney-sweep;”
+
+and Gay (_Trivia_, ii. 35),
+
+    “When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat,
+    From smutty dangers guard thy threatened coat.”
+
+{128b}  The Tory Ministers.
+
+{129a}  See p. 51.
+
+{129b}  Thomas Southerne’s play of _Oroonoko_, based on Mrs. Aphra Behn’s
+novel of the same name, was first acted in 1696.
+
+{129c}  “Mrs.” Cross created the part of Mrs. Clerimont in Steele’s
+_Tender Husband_ in 1705.
+
+{130a}  See p. 106.
+
+{130b}  George Granville, afterwards Lord Lansdowne, was M.P. for
+Cornwall, and Secretary at War.  In December 1711 he was raised to the
+peerage, and in 1712 was appointed Comptroller of the Household.  He died
+in 1735, when the title became extinct.  Granville wrote plays and poems,
+and was a patron of both Dryden and Pope.  Pope called him “Granville the
+polite.”  His _Works in Verse and Prose_ appeared in 1732.
+
+{131a}  Samuel Masham, son of Sir Francis Masham, Bart., had been a page
+to the Queen while Princess of Denmark, and an equerry and gentleman of
+the bed-chamber to Prince George.  He married Abigail Hill (see p. 149),
+daughter of Francis Hill, a Turkey merchant, and sister of General John
+Hill, and through that lady’s influence with the Queen he was raised to
+the peerage as Baron Masham, in January 1712.  Under George I. he was
+Remembrancer of the Exchequer.  He died in 1758.
+
+{131b}  A roughly printed pamphlet, _The Honourable Descent_, _Life_,
+_and True Character of the_ . . . _Earl of Wharton_, appeared early in
+1711, in reply to Swift’s _Short Character_; but that can hardly be the
+pamphlet referred to here, because it is directed against libellers and
+backbiters, and cannot be described as “pretty civil.”
+
+{131c}  “In that word (the seven last words of the sentence huddled into
+one) there were some puzzling characters” (Deane Swift).
+
+{132}  Sir Robert Worsley, Bart., married, in 1690, Frances, only
+daughter of the first Viscount Weymouth.  Their daughter Frances married
+Lord Carteret (see p. 116) in 1710.  In a letter to Colonel Hunter in
+March 1709 Swift spoke of Lady (then Mrs.) Worsley as one of the
+principal beauties in town.  See, too, Swift’s letter to her of April 19,
+1730: “My Lady Carteret has been the best queen we have known in Ireland
+these many years; yet is she mortally hated by all the young girls,
+because (and it is your fault) she is handsomer than all of them
+together.”
+
+{133a}  See p. 7.
+
+{133b}  See p. 25.
+
+{133c}  William Stratford, son of Nicholas Stratford, Bishop of Chester,
+was Archdeacon of Richmond and Canon of Christ Church, Oxford, until his
+death in 1729.
+
+{133d}  See p. 10.
+
+{134a}  James, third Earl of Berkeley (1680–1736), whom Swift calls a
+“young rake” (see p. 151).  The young Countess of Berkeley was only
+sixteen on her marriage.  In 1714 she was appointed a lady of the
+bed-chamber to Caroline, Princess of Wales, and she died of smallpox in
+1717, aged twenty-two.  The Earl was an Admiral, and saw much service
+between 1701 and 1710; under George I. he was First Lord of the
+Admiralty.
+
+{134b}  Edward Wettenhall was Bishop of Kilmore from 1699 to 1713.
+
+{134c}  In the Dedication to _The Tale of a Tub_ Swift had addressed
+Somers in very different terms: “There is no virtue, either in public or
+private life, which some circumstances of your own have not often
+produced upon the stage of the world.”
+
+{136}  Their lodgings, opposite to St. Mary’s Church in Stafford Street,
+Dublin.
+
+{138a}  The Stamp Act was not passed until June 1712: see the _Journal_
+for Aug. 7, 1712.
+
+{138b}  Both in St. James’s Park.  The Canal was formed by Charles II.
+from several small ponds, and Rosamond’s Pond was a sheet of water in the
+south-west corner of the Park, “long consecrated,” as Warburton said, “to
+disastrous love and elegiac poetry.”  It is often mentioned as a place of
+assignation in Restoration plays.  Evelyn (_Diary_, Dec. 1, 1662)
+describes the “scheets” used on the Canal.
+
+{139a}  Mrs. Beaumont.
+
+{139b}  The first direct mention of Hester Vanhomrigh.  She is referred
+to only in two other places in the _Journal_ (Feb. 14, 1710–11, and Aug.
+14, 1711).
+
+{139c}  See p. 10.
+
+{139d}  No. 27, by Swift himself.
+
+{140a}  No. 7 of Harrison’s series.
+
+{140b}  The printers of the original _Tatler_.
+
+{141}  Harley had forwarded to Swift a banknote for £50 (see _Journal_,
+March 7, 1710–11).
+
+{143}  At Moor Park.
+
+{144a}  Scott says that Swift here alludes to some unidentified pamphlet
+of which he was the real or supposed author.
+
+{144b}  See p. 89.
+
+{144c}  The _Examiner_.
+
+{145a}  See p. 43.
+
+{145b}  Mistaken.
+
+{145c}  Mrs. De Caudres, “over against St. Mary’s Church, near Capel
+Street,” where Stella now lodged.
+
+{146a}  “A crease in the sheet” (Deane Swift).
+
+{146b}  “In the original it was, _good mallows_, _little sollahs_.  But
+in these words, and many others, he writes constantly _ll_ for _rr_”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{147a}  See p. 21.
+
+{147b}  “Those letters which are in italics in the original are of a
+monstrous size, which occasioned his calling himself a loggerhead” (Deane
+Swift).
+
+{147c}  _I.e._, to ask whether.
+
+{148a}  Harcourt.
+
+{148b}  “A shilling passes for thirteenpence in Ireland” (Deane Swift).
+
+{148c}  Robert Cope, a gentleman of learning with whom Swift
+corresponded.
+
+{148d}  Archdeacon Morris is not mentioned in Cotton’s _Fasti Ecclesiæ
+Hiberniæ_.
+
+{149a}  See p. 131.
+
+{149b}  See p. 76.
+
+{149c}  Abigail Hill, afterwards Lady Masham, had been introduced into
+the Queens service as bed-chamber woman by the Duchess of Marlborough.
+Her High Church and Tory views recommended her to Queen Anne, and in 1707
+she was privately married to Mr. Samuel Masham, a gentleman in the
+service of Prince George (see p. 131).  The Duchess of Marlborough
+discovered that Mrs. Masham’s cousin, Harley, was using her influence to
+further his own interests with the Queen; and in spite of her violence
+the Duchess found herself gradually supplanted.  From 1710 Mrs. Masham’s
+only rival in the royal favour was the Duchess of Somerset.  Afterwards
+she quarrelled with Harley and joined the Bolingbroke faction.
+
+{149d}  See 20.
+
+{150a}  No. 14 of Harrison’s series.
+
+{150b}  See p. 139.
+
+{150c}  Richard Duke, a minor poet and friend of Dryden’s, entered the
+Church about 1685.  In July 1710 he was presented by the Bishop of
+Winchester to the living of Witney, Oxfordshire, which was worth £700 a
+year.
+
+{150d}  Sir Jonathan Trelawney, one of the seven bishops committed to the
+Tower in 1688, was translated to Winchester in 1707, when he appointed
+Duke to be his chaplain.
+
+{151a}  See p. 17.
+
+{151b}  See p. 14.
+
+{151c}  See p. 134.
+
+{151d}  See p. 52.
+
+{152a}  Cf. p. 155.
+
+{152b}  Esther Johnson lodged opposite St. Mary’s in Dublin.
+
+{152c}  This famous Tory club began with the meeting together of a few
+extreme Tories at the Bell in Westminster.  The password to the
+Club—“October”—was one easy of remembrance to a country gentleman who
+loved his ale.
+
+{153}  “Duke” Disney, “not an old man, but an old rake,” died in 1731.
+Gay calls him “facetious Disney,” and Swift says that all the members of
+the Club “love him mightily.”  Lady M. W. Montagu speaks of his
+
+    “Broad plump face, pert eyes, and ruddy skin,
+    Which showed the stupid joke which lurked within.”
+
+Disney was a French Huguenot refugee, and his real name was Desaulnais.
+He commanded an Irish regiment, and took part in General Hill’s
+expedition to Canada in 1711 (Kingsford’s _Canada_, ii. 465).  By his
+will (_Wentworth Papers_, 109) he “left nothing to his poor relations,
+but very handsome to his bottle companions.”
+
+{154}  There were several Colonel Fieldings in the first half of the
+eighteenth century, and it is not clear which is the one referred to by
+Swift.  Possibly he was the Edmund Fielding—grandson of the first Earl of
+Denbigh—who died a Lieutenant-General in 1741, at the age of sixty-three,
+but is best known as the father of Henry Fielding, the novelist.
+
+{155}  Cf. p. 152.
+
+{156a}  See p. 14.
+
+{156b}  “It is a measured mile round the outer wall; and far beyond any
+the finest square in London” (Deane Swift).
+
+{156c}  “The common fare for a set-down in Dublin” (_ib._).
+
+{156d}  “Mrs. Stoyte lived at Donnybrook, the road to which from
+Stephen’s Green ran into the country about a mile from the south-east
+corner” (_ib._).
+
+{156e}  “Those words in italics are written in a very large hand, and so
+is the word large” (_ib._).
+
+{157}  Deane Swift alters “lele” to “there,” but in a note states how he
+here altered Swift’s “cypher way of writing.”  No doubt “lele” and other
+favourite words occurred frequently in the MS., as they do in the later
+letters.
+
+{158a}  Sir Thomas Mansel, Bart., Comptroller of the Household to Queen
+Anne, and a Lord of the Treasury, was raised to the peerage in December
+1711 as Baron Mansel of Margam.  He died in 1723.
+
+{158b}  Lady Betty Butler and Lady Betty Germaine (see pp. 14, 17).
+
+{159}  James Eckershall, “second clerk of the Queen’s Privy Kitchen.”
+Chamberlayne (_Magnæ Britanniæ Notitia_, 1710, p. 536) says that his
+wages were £11, 8s. 1½d., and board-wages £138, 11s. 10½d., making £150
+in all.  Afterwards Eckershall was gentleman usher to Queen Anne; he died
+at Drayton in 1753, aged seventy-four.  Pope was in correspondence with
+him in 1720 on the subject of contemplated speculations in South Sea and
+other stocks.
+
+{160a}  In October 1710 (see p. 43) Swift wrote as if he knew about the
+preparation of these _Miscellanies_.  The volume was published by Morphew
+instead of Tooke, and it is frequently referred to in the _Journal_.
+
+{160b}  In 1685 the Duke of Ormond (see p. 5) married, as his second
+wife, Lady Mary Somerset, eldest surviving daughter of Henry, first Duke
+of Beaufort.
+
+{160c}  Arthur Moore, M.P., was a Commissioner of Trade and Plantations
+from 1710 until his death in 1730.  Gay calls him “grave,” and Pope
+(“Prologue to the Satires,” 23) says that Moore blamed him for the way in
+which his “giddy son,” James Moore Smythe, neglected the law.
+
+{161a}  James, Lord Paisley, who succeeded his father (see p. 86) as
+seventh Earl of Abercorn in 1734, married, in 1711, Anne, eldest daughter
+of Colonel John Plumer, of Blakesware, Herts.
+
+{161b}  Harley’s ill-health was partly due to his drinking habits.
+
+{161c}  Crowd or confusion.
+
+{162}  The first wife of Charles Seymour, sixth Duke of Somerset, was
+Lady Elizabeth Percy, only daughter of Joscelyn, eleventh Earl of
+Northumberland, and heiress of the house of Percy.  She married the Duke,
+her third husband, at the age of eighteen.
+
+{163a}  John Richardson, D.D., rector of Armagh, Cavan, and afterwards
+chaplain to the Duke of Ormond.  In 1711 he published a _Proposal for the
+Conversion of the Popish Natives of Ireland to the Established Religion_,
+and in 1712 a _Short History of the Attempts to Convert the Popish
+Natives of Ireland_.  In 1709 the Lower House of Convocation in Ireland
+had passed resolutions for printing the Bible and liturgy in Irish,
+providing Irish preachers, etc.  In 1711 Thomas Parnell, the poet, headed
+a deputation to the Queen on the subject, when an address was presented;
+but nothing came of the proposals, owing to fears that the English
+interest in Ireland might be injured.  In 1731 Richardson was given the
+small deanery of Kilmacluagh.
+
+{163b}  See p. 159.
+
+{163c}  Harley.
+
+{163d}  “Bank bill for fifty pound,” taking the alternate letters (see
+pp. 141, 150).
+
+{164a}  See p. 25.
+
+{164b}  See Nos. 27 and 29, by Swift himself.
+
+{164c}  “Print cannot do justice to whims of this kind, as they depend
+wholly upon the awkward shape of the letters” (Deane Swift).
+
+{165a}  See p. 54.
+
+{165b}  “Here is just one specimen given of his way of writing to Stella
+in these journals.  The reader, I hope, will excuse my omitting it in all
+other places where it occurs.  The meaning of this pretty language is:
+‘And you must cry There, and Here, and Here again.  Must you imitate
+Presto, pray?  Yes, and so you shall.  And so there’s for your letter.
+Good-morrow’” (Deane Swift).  What Swift really wrote was probably as
+follows: “Oo must cly Lele and Lele and Lele aden.  Must oo mimitate
+Pdfr, pay?  Iss, and so oo sall.  And so lele’s fol oo rettle.
+Dood-mallow.”
+
+{166a}  Lady Catherine Morice (died 1716) was the eldest daughter of
+Thomas Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and wife of Sir Nicholas Morice, Bart.,
+M.P. for Newport.
+
+{166b}  Perhaps Henry Arundell, who succeeded his father as fifth Baron
+Arundell of Wardour in 1712, and died in 1726.
+
+{166c}  Antoine, Abbé de Bourlie and Marquis de Guiscard, was a cadet of
+a distinguished family of the south of France.  He joined the Church, but
+having been driven from France in consequence of his licentious excesses,
+he came to England, after many adventures in Europe, with a
+recommendation from the Duke of Savoy.  Godolphin gave him the command of
+a regiment of refugees, and employed him in projects for effecting a
+landing in France.  These schemes proving abortive, Guiscard’s regiment
+was disbanded, and he was discharged with a pension of £500 a year.  Soon
+after the Tories came to power Guiscard came to the conclusion that there
+was no hope of employment for him, and little chance of receiving his
+pension; and he began a treacherous correspondence with the French.  When
+this was detected he was brought before the Privy Council, and finding
+that everything was known, and wishing a better death than hanging, he
+stabbed Harley in the breast.  Mrs. Manley, under Swift’s directions,
+wrote a _Narrative of Guiscard’s Examination_, and the incident greatly
+added to the security of Harley’s position, and to the strength of the
+Government.
+
+{166d}  Harley’s surgeon, Mr. Green.
+
+{167a}  See p. 73.
+
+{167b}  Mrs. Walls’ baby (see p. 185).
+
+{168a}  The phrase had its origin in the sharp practices in the horse and
+cattle markets.  Writing to Arbuthnot in 1727, Swift said that Gay “had
+made a pretty good bargain (that is a Smithfield) for a little place in
+the Custom House.”
+
+{168b}  “There.”
+
+{169a}  See Swift’s paper in the _Examiner_, No. 32, and Mrs. Manley’s
+pamphlet, already mentioned.
+
+{169b}  Presumably Mrs. Johnson’s palsy-water (see p. 25).
+
+{170a}  Thomas Wentworth, Baron Raby (1672–1739), was created Viscount
+Wentworth and Earl of Strafford in June 1711.  Lord Raby was Envoy and
+Ambassador at Berlin for some years, and was appointed Ambassador at the
+Hague in March 1711.  In November he was nominated as joint
+Plenipotentiary with the Bishop of Bristol to negotiate the terms of
+peace.  He objected to Prior as a colleague; Swift says he was “as proud
+as hell.”  In 1715 it was proposed to impeach Strafford, but the
+proceedings were dropped.  In his later years he was, according to Lord
+Hervey, a loquacious and illiterate, but constant, speaker in the House
+of Lords.
+
+{170b}  A beauty, to whom Swift addressed verses in 1708.  During the
+frost of January 1709 Swift wrote: “Mrs. Floyd looked out with both her
+eyes, and we had one day’s thaw; but she drew in her head, and it now
+freezes as hard as ever.”  She was a great friend of Lady Betty
+Germaine’s.
+
+{170c}  Swift never had the smallpox.
+
+{170d}  See p. 116.
+
+{171a}  Heart.
+
+{171b}  The first number of the _Spectator_ appeared on March 1, 1711.
+
+{172a}  In one of his poems Swift speaks of Stella “sossing in an
+easy-chair.”
+
+{172b}  See p. 21.
+
+{173a}  “It is reasonable to suppose that Swift’s acquaintance with
+Arbuthnot commenced just about this time; for in the original letter
+Swift misspells his name, and writes it Arthbuthnet, in a clear large
+hand, that MD might not mistake any of the letters” (Deane Swift).  Dr.
+John Arbuthnot had been made Physician in Ordinary to the Queen; he was
+one of Swift’s dearest friends.
+
+{173b}  Clobery Bromley, M.P. for Coventry, son of William Bromley, M.P.
+(see p. 70), died on March 20, 1711, and Boyer (_Political State_, i.
+255) says that the House, “out of respect to the father, and to give him
+time, both to perform the funeral rites and to indulge his just
+affliction,” adjourned until the 26th.
+
+{174a}  See p. 23.
+
+{174b}  See p. 163.
+
+{175a}  Sir John Perceval, Bart. (died 1748), was created Baron Perceval
+1715, Viscount Perceval 1722, and Earl of Egmont 1733, all in the Irish
+peerage.  He married, in 1710, Catherine, eldest daughter of Sir Philip
+Parker A’Morley, Bart., of Erwarton, Suffolk; and his son (born Feb. 27,
+1710–11) was made Baron Perceval and Holland, in the English peerage, in
+1762.
+
+{175b}  This report was false.  The Old Pretender did not marry until
+1718, when he was united to the Princess Clementina Maria, daughter of
+Prince James Sobieski.
+
+{176a}  John Hartstonge, D.D. (died 1717), was Bishop of Ossory from 1693
+to 1714, when he was translated to Derry.
+
+{176b}  See p. 145.
+
+{176c}  Thomas Proby was Chirurgeon-General in Ireland from 1699 until
+his death in 1761.  In his _Short Character of Thomas_, _Earl of
+Wharton_, Swift speaks of him as “a person universally esteemed,” who had
+been badly treated by Lord Wharton.  In 1724 Proby’s son, a captain in
+the army, was accused of popery, and Swift wrote to Lord Carteret that
+the charge was generally believed to be false: “The father is the most
+universally beloved of any man I ever knew in his station. . . .  You
+cannot do any personal thing more acceptable to the people of Ireland
+than in inclining towards lenity to Mr. Proby and his family.”  Proby was
+probably a near relative of Sir Thomas Proby, Bart., M.P., of Elton,
+Hunts, at whose death in 1689 the baronetcy expired.  Mrs. Proby seems to
+have been a Miss Spencer.
+
+{176d}  Meliora, daughter of Thomas Coningsby, Baron of Clanbrassil and
+Earl of Coningsby, and wife of Sir Thomas Southwell, afterwards Baron
+Southwell, one of the Commissioners of Revenue in Ireland, and a member
+of the Irish Privy Council.  Lady Southwell died in 1736.
+
+{176e}  Lady Betty Rochfort was the daughter of Henry Moore, third Earl
+of Drogheda.  Her husband, George Rochfort, M.P. for Westmeath, was son
+of Robert Rochfort, an Irish judge, and brother of Robert Rochford, M.P.,
+to whose wife Swift addressed his _Advice to a very Young Lady on her
+Marriage_.  Lady Betty’s son Robert was created Earl of Belvedere in
+1757.
+
+{177}  See p. 166.  Mr. Bussiere, of Suffolk Street, had been called in
+directly after the outrage, but Radcliffe would not consult him.
+
+{178a}  The letter from Dr. King dated March 17, 1711, commenting on
+Guiscard’s attack upon Harley.
+
+{178b}  See p. 147.
+
+{178c}  The word “trangram” or “tangram” ordinarily means a toy or
+gimcrack, or trumpery article.  Cf. Wycherley (_Plain Dealer_, iii. 1),
+“But go, thou trangram, and carry back those trangrams which thou hast
+stolen or purloined.”  Apparently “trangum” here means a tally.
+
+{178d}  See p. 104.
+
+{179a}  Swift means Godolphin, the late Lord Treasurer.
+
+{179b}  Sir John Holland (see p. 11).
+
+{179c}  “It caused a violent daub on the paper, which still continues
+much discoloured in the original”  (Deane Swift).
+
+{180a}  “He forgot here to say, ‘At night.’  See what goes before” (Deane
+Swift).
+
+{180b}  See p. 158.
+
+{180c}  Irishman.  “Teague” was a term of contempt for an Irishman.
+
+{180d}  _To Mr. Harley_, _wounded by Guiscard_.  In this piece Prior
+said, “Britain with tears shall bathe thy glorious wound,” a wound which
+could not have been inflicted by any but a stranger to our land.
+
+{181a}  Sir Thomas Mansel married Martha, daughter and heiress of Francis
+Millington, a London merchant.
+
+{181b}  Slatterning, consuming carelessly.
+
+{181c}  “The candle grease mentioned before, which soaked through,
+deformed this part of the paper on the second page” (Deane Swift).
+
+{182a}  Harcourt.
+
+{182b}  William Rollinson, formerly a wine merchant, settled afterwards
+in Oxfordshire, where he died at a great age.  He was a friend of Pope,
+Bolingbroke, and Gay.
+
+{184}  In relation to the banknote (see p. 163).
+
+{185a}  “Swift was, at this time, their great support and champion”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{185b}  See p. 134.
+
+{185c}  See p. 167.
+
+{185d}  “Stella, with all her wit and good sense, spelled very ill; and
+Dr. Swift insisted greatly upon women spelling well” (Deane Swift).
+
+{185e}  “The slope of the letters in the words _this way_, _this way_, is
+to the left hand, but the slope of the words _that way_, _that way_, is
+to the right hand” (Deane Swift).
+
+{186a}  See p. 167.
+
+{186b}  See pp. 24, 85.
+
+{186c}  By the Act 9 Anne, cap. 23, the number of hackney coaches was
+increased to 800, and it was provided that they were to go a mile and a
+half for one shilling, two miles for one shilling and sixpence, and so
+on.
+
+{187}  See p. 95.
+
+{188a}  In a letter to Swift, of March 17, 1711, King said that it might
+have been thought that Guiscard’s attack would have convinced the world
+that Harley was not in the French interest; but it did not have that
+effect with all, for some whispered the case of Fenius Rufus and Scevinus
+in the 15th book of Tacitus: “Accensis indicibus ad prodendum Fenium
+Rufum, quem eundem conscium et inquisitorem non tolerabant.”  Next month
+Swift told King that it was reported that the Archbishop had applied this
+passage in a speech made to his clergy, and explained at some length the
+steps he had taken to prevent the story being published in the _Postboy_.
+King thanked Swift for this action, explaining that he had been arguing
+on Harley’s behalf when someone instanced the story of Rufus.
+
+{188b}  A Tory paper, published thrice weekly by Abel Roper.
+
+{189}  Sir Charles Duncombe, banker, died on April 9, 1711.  The first
+wife of the Duke of Argyle (see p. 101) was Duncombe’s niece, Mary
+Browne, daughter of Ursula Duncombe and Thomas Browne, of St. Margaret’s,
+Westminster.  Duncombe was elected Lord Mayor in 1700, and was the
+richest commoner in England.
+
+{190a}  The Rev. Dillon Ashe (see p. 117).
+
+{190b}  John, fourth Baron Poulett, was created Earl Poulett in 1706,
+after serving as one of the Commissioners for the Treaty of Union with
+Scotland.  From August 1710 to May 1711 he was First Lord of the
+Treasury, and from June 1711 to August 1714 he was Lord Steward of the
+Household.
+
+{190c}  Lost or stupid person.
+
+{191a}  Sir William Read, a quack who advertised largely in the _Tatler_
+and other papers.  He was satirised in No. 547 of the _Spectator_.  In
+1705 he was knighted for his services in curing many seamen and soldiers
+of blindness gratis, and he was appointed Oculist in Ordinary to the
+Queen.  Read died in 1715, but his business was continued by his widow.
+
+{191b}  General John Webb was not on good terms with Marlborough.  He was
+a Tory, and had gained distinction in the war at Wynendale (1708), though
+the Duke’s secretary gave the credit, in the despatch, to Cadogan.  There
+is a well-known account of Webb in Thackeray’s _Esmond_.  He was severely
+wounded at Malplaquet in 1709, and in 1710 was given the governorship of
+the Isle of Wight.  He died in 1724.
+
+{191c}  Henry Campion, M.P. for Penryn, is mentioned in the _Political
+State_ for February 1712 as one of the leading men of the October Club.
+Campion seems to have been Member, not for Penryn, but for Bossiney.
+
+{192a}  See p. 12.
+
+{192b}  Sir George Beaumont, Bart., M.P. for Leicester, and an
+acquaintance of Swift’s mother, was made a Commissioner of the Privy Seal
+in 1712, and one of the Lords of the Admiralty in 1714.  He died in 1737.
+
+{192c}  Heneage Finch, afterwards second Earl of Aylesford, was the son
+of Heneage Finch, the chief counsel for the seven bishops, who was
+created Baron Guernsey in 1703, and Earl of Aylesford in 1714.
+
+{192d}  James, Lord Compton, afterwards fifth Earl of Northampton, was
+the eldest son of George, the fourth Earl.  He was summoned to the House
+of Lords in December 1711, and died in 1754.
+
+{193}  See p. 89.
+
+{194}  In 1670 Temple thanked the Grand Duke of Tuscany for “an entire
+vintage of the finest wines of Italy” (Temple’s _Works_, 1814, ii.
+155–56).
+
+{195a}  Mrs. Manley (see p. 166).
+
+{195b}  Charles Cæsar, M.P. for Hertford, was appointed Treasurer of the
+Navy in June 1711, in the room of Robert Walpole.
+
+{196}  Joseph I.  His successor was his brother Charles, the King of
+Spain recognised by England.
+
+{197}  Simon Harcourt, M.P. for Wallingford.  He married Elizabeth,
+sister of Sir John Evelyn, Bart., and died in 1720, aged thirty-five,
+before his father.  He was secretary to the society of “Brothers,” wrote
+verses, and was a friend of the poets.  His son Simon was created Earl
+Harcourt in 1749, and was Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
+
+{199a}  Doiley, a seventeenth-century linen-draper,—probably “Thomas
+Doyley, at the Nun, in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden,”—invented stuffs
+which “might at once be cheap and genteel” (_Spectator_, No. 283).
+
+{199b}  A special envoy.  The Resident from Venice in 1710 was Signor
+Bianchi.
+
+{199c}  See p. 160.
+
+{199d}  Nanfan Coote, second Earl of Bellamont, who died in 1708,
+married, in 1705, Lucia Anna, daughter of Henry de Nassau, Lord of
+Auverquerque, and sister of Henry, first Earl of Grantham.  She died in
+1744.
+
+{200a}  “Farnese” (Deane Swift).
+
+{200b}  See p. 188.
+
+{200c}  Swift’s changes of residence during the period covered by the
+_Journal_ were numerous.  On Sept. 20, 1710, he moved from Pall Mall to
+Bury Street, “where I suppose I shall continue while in London.”  But on
+Dec. 28 he went to new lodgings in St. Albans Street, Haymarket.  On
+April 26, 1711, he moved to Chelsea, and from there to Suffolk Street, to
+be near the Vanhomrighs.  He next moved to St. Martins Street, Leicester
+Fields; and a month later to Panton Street, Haymarket.  In 1712 he lodged
+for a time at Kensington Gravel Pits.
+
+{201a}  At raffling for books.
+
+{201b}  James Brydges, Paymaster-General, and afterwards Duke of Chandos
+(see p. 12).
+
+{202a}  Thomas Foley, M.P. for Worcestershire, was created Baron Foley in
+December 1711, and died in 1733.
+
+{202b}  See pp. 198, 200.
+
+{202c}  See p. 176.
+
+{202d}  Charles Dering, second son of Sir Edward Dering, Bart., M.P. for
+Kent, was Auditor of the Exchequer in Ireland, and M.P. for Carlingford.
+
+{202e}  See p. 97.
+
+{203a}  See pp. 43, 160.
+
+{203b}  A Whig paper, for the most part by Mainwaring and Oldmixon, in
+opposition to the _Examiner_.  It appeared weekly from October 1710 to
+August 1711.
+
+{203c}  See p. 166.
+
+{203d}  See _Spectator_, No. 50, by Addison.
+
+{203e}  In all probability a mistake for “Wesley” (see p. 2).
+
+{205a}  Lord Paisley (see p. 161).
+
+{205b}  See p. 88.
+
+{206a}  Sir Hovenden Walker.  The “man midwife” was Sir Chamberlen
+Walker, his younger brother.  The “secret expedition” against Quebec
+conveyed upwards of 5000 soldiers, under the command of General John Hill
+(see p. 76), but owing to the want of due preparations and the severe
+weather encountered, the fleet was compelled to return to England without
+accomplishing anything.
+
+{206b}  Robert Freind, elder brother of John Freind, M.D. (see p. 66),
+became headmaster of Westminster School in 1711, and held the appointment
+until 1733.  He was Rector of Witney, and afterwards Canon of Windsor,
+Prebendary of Westminster, and Canon of Christ Church.  He died in 1751,
+aged eighty-four.
+
+{206c}  Christopher Musgrave was Clerk of the Ordnance.
+
+{207a}  Atterbury’s wife, Katherine Osborn, has been described as “the
+inspiration of his youth and the solace of his riper years.”
+
+{207b}  The original Chelsea Bun House, in Jew’s Row, was pulled down in
+1839.  Sir R. Philips, writing in 1817, said, “Those buns have afforded a
+competency, and even wealth, to four generations of the same family; and
+it is singular that their delicate flavour, lightness, and richness have
+never been successfully imitated.”
+
+{208a}  See p. 60.  King wrote to Swift (May 15, 1711), “The death of the
+Earl of Rochester is a great blow to all good men, and even his enemies
+cannot but do justice to his character.  What influence it will have on
+public affairs God only knows.”
+
+{208b}  See p. 89.
+
+{210a}  See p. 160.
+
+{210b}  See p. 170.
+
+{210c}  See p. 192.
+
+{211a}  Swift’s curate at Laracor.
+
+{211b}  Queen Anne was the last sovereign who exercised the supposed
+royal gift of healing by touch.  Dr. Johnson was touched by her, but
+without effect.
+
+{212a}  Richard Thornhill was tried at the Old Bailey on May 18, 1711,
+for the murder of Sir Cholmley Dering, M.P. for Kent, and found guilty of
+manslaughter only; but he was shortly afterwards assassinated (see
+_Journal_ for Aug. 21, 1711; _Spectator_, No. 84).  The quarrel began on
+April 27, when they fell to blows, and Thornhill being knocked down, had
+some teeth struck out by Sir C. Dering stamping on him.  The spectators
+then interfered, and Dering expressed himself as ready to beg pardon; but
+Thornhill not thinking this was sufficient satisfaction, gave Dering the
+lie, and on May 9 sent him a challenge.
+
+{212b}  Tothill Fields, Westminster, was a favourite place for duels in
+the seventeenth century.
+
+{212c}  See p. 124.
+
+{213}  Benjamin Burton, a Dublin banker, and brother-in-law of Swift’s
+friend Stratford (see p. 10).  Swift says he hated this “rogue.”
+
+{214}  The day on which the Club met.  See letter from Swift to St. John,
+May 11, 1711.
+
+{215a}  Henry Barry, fourth Lord Barry of Santry (1680–1734), was an
+Irish Privy Councillor, and Governor of Derry.  In 1702 he married
+Bridget, daughter of Sir Thomas Domville, Bart., and in an undated letter
+(about 1735) to Lady Santry Swift spoke of his esteem for her, “although
+I had hardly the least acquaintance with your lord, nor was at all
+desirous to cultivate it, because I did not at all approve of his
+conduct.”  Lord Santry’s only son and heir, who was born in 1710, was
+condemned to death for the murder of a footman in 1739, when the barony
+became extinct by forfeiture.  See B. W. Adams’s _History of Santry_.
+
+{215b}  Probably Captain Cammock, of the _Speedwell_, of 28 guns and 125
+men (Luttrell, vi. 331), who met on July 13, 1708, off Scotland, two
+French privateers, one of 16, the other of 18 guns, and fought them
+several hours.  The first privateer got off, much shattered; the other
+was brought into Carrickfergus.
+
+{215c}  See 50.
+
+{215d}  See p. 120.
+
+{216a}  This valuable pamphlet is signed “J.G.,” and is believed to be by
+John Gay.
+
+{216b}  Edmund Curll’s collection of Swift’s _Miscellanies_, published in
+1711, was an expansion of a pamphlet of 1710, _A Meditation upon a
+Broomstick_, _and somewhat beside_, _of the same Author’s_.
+
+{217a}  “In this passage DD signifies both Dingley and Stella” (Deane
+Swift).
+
+{217b}  Sir Henry Craik’s reading.  The old editions have, “It would do:
+DD goes as well as Presto,” which is obviously corrupt.
+
+{217c}  Cf. _Journal_, June 17, 1712.
+
+{217d}  Cf. “old doings” (see p. 73.)
+
+{217e}  See p. 163.
+
+{217f}  Rymer’s _Fœdera_, in three volumes, which Swift obtained for
+Trinity College, Dublin.
+
+{217g}  See pp. 43, 145.
+
+{218a}  Stephen Colledge, “the Protestant joiner,” was hanged in 1681.
+He had published attacks on the Roman Catholics, and had advocated
+resistance to Charles II.
+
+{218b}  See p. 14.
+
+{218c}  Mitford Crowe was appointed Governor of Barbados in 1706, and
+before his departure for that island went to Spain, “to settle the
+accounts of our army there, of which he is paymaster” (Luttrell, vi.
+104).  In 1710 charges of bribery brought against him by merchants were
+inquired into by the Privy Council, but he seems to have cleared himself,
+for in June 1711 Swift speaks of him as Governor of Jamaica.  He died in
+1719.
+
+{219}  See p. 60.
+
+{220a}  Swift’s uncle Adam “lived and died in Ireland,” and left no son.
+Another daughter of his became Mrs. Whiteway.
+
+{220b}  William Lowndes, M.P., secretary to the Treasury, whom Walpole
+called “as able and honest a servant as ever the Crown had.”
+
+{220c}  The Lord Treasurer’s staff: since the dismissal of Godolphin, the
+Treasurership had been held in commission.
+
+{221}  “As I hope to be saved.”
+
+{222}  Stella’s maid.
+
+{223}  See letter from King to Swift, May 15, 1711.  Alderman
+Constantine, a High Churchman, indignant at being passed over by a junior
+in the contest for the mayoralty, brought the matter before the Council
+Board, and produced an old by-law by which aldermen, according to their
+ancientry, were required to keep their mayoralty.  King took the side of
+the city, but the majority was for the by-law, and disapproved of the
+election; whereupon the citizens repealed the by-law and re-elected the
+same alderman as before.
+
+{224}  The Lord Treasurer’s staff.
+
+{225a}  Swift’s “little parson cousin,” the resident chaplain at Moor
+Park.  He pretended to have had some part in _The Tale of a Tub_, and
+Swift always professed great contempt for him.  Thomas Swift was son of
+an Oxford uncle of Swift’s, of the same name, and was at school and
+college with Swift.  He became Rector of Puttenham, Surrey, and died in
+1752, aged eighty-seven.
+
+{225b}  The Duke of Ormond’s daughter, Lady Mary Butler (see p. 44).
+
+{225c}  Thomas Harley, the Lord Treasurer’s cousin, was secretary to the
+Treasury.
+
+{226a}  Lord Oxford’s daughter Elizabeth married, in 1712, the Marquis of
+Caermarthen.
+
+{226b}  Henry Tenison, M.P. for County Louth, was one of the
+Commissioners of the Revenue in Ireland from 1704 until his death in 1709
+(Luttrell, v. 381, vi. 523).  Probably he was related to Dr. Tenison,
+Bishop of Meath, who died in 1705.
+
+{227a}  Anne Finch (died 1720), daughter of Sir William Kingsmill, and
+wife of Heneage Finch, who became fourth Earl of Winchelsea in 1712.
+Lady Winchelsea published a volume of poems in 1713, and was a friend of
+Pope and Rowe.  Wordsworth recognised the advance in the growth of
+attention to “external nature” shown in her writings.
+
+{227b}  See pp. 223, 297.
+
+{227c}  This was a mistake.  Charles Hickman, D.D., Bishop of Derry, died
+in November 1713.
+
+{227d}  “These words in italics are written in a large round hand” (Deane
+Swift).
+
+{229a}  “This entry is interlined in the original” (Deane Swift).
+
+{229b}  Colonel James Graham (1649–1730) held various offices under James
+II., and was granted a lease of a lodge in Bagshot Park.  Like his
+brother, Viscount Preston, he was suspected of treasonable practices in
+1691, and he was arrested in 1692 and 1696.  Under Queen Anne and George
+I., Colonel Graham was M.P. for Appleby and Westmorland.
+
+{229c}  Mr. Leslie Stephen has pointed out that this is the name of an
+inn (now the Jolly Farmer) near Frimley, on the hill between Bagshot and
+Farnborough.  This inn is still called the Golden Farmer on the Ordnance
+map.
+
+{229d}  “Soley” is probably a misreading for “sollah,” a form often used
+by Swift for “sirrah,” and “figgarkick” may be “pilgarlick” (a poor
+creature) in Swift’s “little language” (cf. 20th Oct. 1711).
+
+{230a}  See p. 134.
+
+{230b}  Probably a misprint for “Bertie.”  This Mr. Bertie may have been
+the Hon. James Bertie, second son of the first Earl of Abingdon, and M.P.
+for Middlesex.
+
+{230c}  Evelyn Pierrepont, fifth Earl of Kingston, was made Marquis of
+Dorchester in 1706.  He became Duke of Kingston-upon-Hull in 1715, and
+died in 1726.  Lady Mary Wortley Montagu was his daughter.
+
+{231a}  See p. 116.
+
+{231b}  Sir Thomas Thynne, first Viscount Weymouth, who died in 1714,
+aged seventy-four, married Frances, daughter of Heneage Finch, second
+Earl of Winchelsea.
+
+{231c}  See p. 52.
+
+{232a}  Swift is referring to St. John’s defence of Brydges (see p. 201.)
+
+{232b}  “He does not mean smoking, which he never practised, but snuffing
+up cut-and-dry tobacco, which sometimes was just coloured with Spanish
+snuff; and this he used all his life, but would not own that he took
+snuff” (Deane Swift).
+
+{232c}  Beaumont (see p. 1).
+
+{232d}  Sir Alexander Cairnes, M.P. for Monaghan, a banker, was created a
+baronet in 1706, and died in 1732.
+
+{233a}  See pp. 43, 160.
+
+{233b}  Isaac Manley (see p. 7.)
+
+{233c}  Sir Thomas Frankland.
+
+{233d}  See p. 24.
+
+{234a}  Hockley-in-the-Hole, Clerkenwell, a place of public diversion,
+was famous for its bear and bull baitings.
+
+{234b}  Sir William Seymour, second son of Sir Edward Seymour, Bart., of
+Berry Pomeroy, retired from the army in 1717, and died in 1728 (Dalton’s
+_Army Lists_).  He was wounded at Landen and Vigo, and saw much service
+between his appointment as a Captain of Fusiliers in 1686 and his
+promotion to the rank of Lieutenant-General in 1707.
+
+{234c}  No. 45.
+
+{235a}  “And now I conceive the main design I had in writing these papers
+is fully executed.  A great majority of the nation is at length
+thoroughly convinced that the Queen proceeded with the highest wisdom, in
+changing her Ministry and Parliament” (_Examiner_, No. 45).
+
+{235b}  Edward Harley (see p. 124).
+
+{235c}  See p. 225.
+
+{235d}  Tom Ashe was an elder brother of the Bishop of Clogher.  He had
+an estate of more than £1000 a year in County Meath, and Nichols
+describes him as of droll appearance, thick and short in person: “a
+facetious, pleasant companion, but the most eternal unwearied punster
+that ever lived.”
+
+{235e}  “Even Joseph Beaumont, the son, was at this time an old man,
+whose grey locks were venerable; yet his father lived until about 1719”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{236}  Sir William Wyndham, Bart. (1687–1740), was M.P. for Somerset.  He
+was a close partisan of Bolingbroke’s, and in 1713 introduced the Schism
+Bill, which drove Oxford from office.  Wyndham became Chancellor of the
+Exchequer, and was afterwards a leading opponent of Walpole.  His wife,
+Lady Catherine Seymour (died 1713), was the second daughter of Charles,
+Duke of Somerset (see p. 270).
+
+{237a}  Swift was afterwards President of this Club, which is better
+known as “the Society.”
+
+{237b}  Perhaps Daniel Reading, M.P. for Newcastle, Co. Dublin.
+
+{238a}  Afterwards Congreve formed a friendship with the Whigs; or, as
+Swift put it,
+
+    “Took proper principles to thrive,
+    And so might every dunce alive.”
+
+{238b}  Atterbury.
+
+{238c}  This pamphlet, published in February 1712, was called _A Proposal
+for Correcting_, _Improving_, _and Ascertaining the English Tongue_, _in
+a Letter to the_ . . . _Lord High Treasurer_.
+
+{238d}  No. 47
+
+{238e}  Francis Gastrell, Canon of Christ Church, was made Bishop of
+Chester in 1713.  His valuable _Notitia Cestriensis_ was published in
+1845–50.
+
+{239}  Near Fulham.
+
+{240a}  See p. 116.
+
+{240b}  The daughters of Meinhardt Schomberg, Duke of Leinster, in
+Ireland, and third Duke of Schomberg.  Lady Mary married Count
+Dagenfeldt, and Lady Frederica married, first, the Earl of Holderness,
+and, secondly, Earl Fitz Walter.
+
+{241}  Thomas Harley.
+
+{242}  See p. 176.
+
+{245a}  The widow of Sir John Lyndon, who was appointed a justice of the
+Court of King’s Bench in Ireland in 1682, and died in 1699.
+
+{245b}  “Marmaduke Coghill, LL.D., was judge of the Prerogative Court in
+Ireland.  About this time he courted a lady, and was soon to have been
+married to her; but unfortunately a cause was brought to trial before
+him, wherein a man was sued for beating his wife.  When the matter was
+agitated, the Doctor gave his opinion, ‘That although a man had no right
+to beat his wife unmercifully, yet that, with such a little cane or
+switch as he then held in his hand, a husband was at liberty, and was
+invested with a power, to give his wife moderate correction’; which
+opinion determined the lady against having the Doctor.  He died an old
+man and a bachelor” (Deane Swift).  See also Lascelles, _Liber Muner.
+Hibern._, part ii. p. 80.
+
+{246}  This was a common exclamation of the time, but the spelling varies
+in different writers.  It seems to be a corruption of “God so,” or “God
+ho,” but there may have been a confusion with “cat-so,” derived from the
+Italian “cazzo.”
+
+{247a}  See p. 92.  Mrs. Manley was now editing the _Examiner_.
+
+{247b}  Sir Henry Belasyse was sent to Spain as Commissioner to inquire
+into the state of the English forces in that country.  The son of Sir
+Richard Belasyse, Knight of Ludworth, Durham, Sir Henry finished a
+chequered career in 1717, when he was buried in Westminster Abbey
+(Dalton’s _Army Lists_, ii. 228).  In his earlier years he served under
+the United Provinces, and after the accession of William was made a
+Brigadier-General in the English army, and in 1694, Lieutenant-General.
+In 1702 he was second in command of the expedition to Cadiz, but he was
+dismissed the service in consequence of the looting of Port St. Mary.
+Subsequently he was elected M.P. for Durham, and in 1713 was appointed
+Governor of Berwick.
+
+{248}  Atterbury.
+
+{249a}  See p. 10.
+
+{249b}  Sir John Powell, a Judge of the Queen’s Bench, died in 1713, aged
+sixty-eight.  He was a kindly as well as able judge.
+
+{250a}  See p. 235.
+
+{250b}  This Tisdall has been described as a Dublin merchant; but in all
+probability he was Richard Tisdall, Registrar of the Irish Court of
+Chancery, and M.P. for Dundalk (1707–1713) and County Louth (1713–1727).
+He married Marian, daughter of Richard Boyle, M.P., and died in 1742.
+Richard Tisdall was a relative of Stella’s suitor, the Rev. William
+Tisdall, and years afterwards Swift took an interest in his son Philip,
+who became a Secretary of State and Leader of the Irish House of Commons.
+
+{251}  “In Ireland there are not public paths from place to place, as in
+England” (Deane Swift).
+
+{252a}  See p. 226.
+
+{252b}  Probably a son of John Manley, M.P. (see p. 24).
+
+{253a}  See p. 97.
+
+{253b}  Dr. George Stanhope, who was Vicar of Lewisham as well as of
+Deptford.  He was a popular preacher and a translator of Thomas à Kempis
+and other religious writers.
+
+{253c}  See p. 10.
+
+{254}  A favourite word with Swift, when he wished to indicate anything
+obscure or humble.
+
+{255a}  See p. 163.
+
+{255b}  See pp. 234–5.
+
+{255c}  See p. 166.
+
+{256a}  Thomas Mills (1671–1740) was made Bishop of Waterford and Lismore
+in 1708.  A man of learning and a liberal contributor to the cost of
+church restorations, he is charged by Archbishop King with giving all the
+valuable livings in his gift to his non-resident relatives.
+
+{256b}  Tooke was appointed printer of the _London Gazette_ in 1711 (see
+p. 8).
+
+{256c}  See 24.
+
+{256d}  Lady Jane Hyde, the elder daughter of Henry Hyde, Earl of
+Rochester (see p. 24), married William Capel, third Earl of Essex.  Her
+daughter Charlotte’s husband, the son of the Earl of Jersey, was created
+Earl of Clarendon in 1776.  Lady Jane’s younger sister, Catherine, who
+became the famous Duchess of Queensberry, Gay’s patroness, is represented
+by Prior, in _The Female Phaeton_, as jealous, when a young girl, of her
+sister, “Lady Jenny,” who went to balls, and “brought home hearts by
+dozens.”
+
+{257a}  See 257.
+
+{257b}  John Holles, Duke of Newcastle, had held the Privy Seal from
+1705, and was regarded by the Ministers as a possible plenipotentiary in
+the event of their negotiations for a peace being successful.  He married
+Lady Margaret Cavendish, daughter and co-heiress of Henry Cavendish,
+second Duke of Newcastle, and was one of the richest nobles in England.
+His death, on July 15, 1711, was the result of a fall while stag-hunting.
+The Duke’s only daughter married, in 1713, Edward, Lord Harley, the Earl
+of Oxford’s son.
+
+{258a}  Alexander Forbes, fourth Lord Forbes, who was afterwards
+attainted for his share in the Rebellion of 1745.
+
+{258b}  Obscure (cf. p. 52).
+
+{260a}  Jacob Tonson the elder, who died in 1736, outlived his nephew,
+Jacob Tonson the younger, by a few months.  The elder Tonson, the
+secretary of the Kit-Cat Club, published many of Dryden’s works, and the
+firm continued to be the chief publishers of the time during the greater
+part of the eighteenth century.
+
+{260b}  John Barber.
+
+{260c}  By his will Swift left to Deane Swift his “large silver standish,
+consisting of a large silver plate, an ink-pot, and a sand-box.”
+
+{261a}  _I.e._, we are only three hours in getting there.
+
+{261b}  Cf. p. 141.
+
+{262a}  The _Examiner_ was revived in December 1711, under Oldisworth’s
+editorship, and was continued by him until 1714.
+
+{262b}  James Douglas, fourth Duke of Hamilton, was created Duke of
+Brandon in the English peerage in September 1711, and was killed by Lord
+Mohun in a duel in 1712.  Swift calls him “a worthy good-natured person,
+very generous, but of a middle understanding.”  He married, in 1698, as
+his second wife, Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Digby, Lord Gerard, a
+lady to whom Swift often refers in the _Journal_.  She outlived the Duke
+thirty-two years.
+
+{262c}  See p. 260.
+
+{263}  William Fitzmaurice (see p. 263).
+
+{264a}  The Duke of Shrewsbury (see p. 12) married an Italian lady,
+Adelhida, daughter of the Marquis of Paliotti, of Bologna, descended
+maternally from Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, Queen Elizabeth’s
+favourite.  Lady Cowper (_Diary_, pp. 8, 9) says that the Duchess “had a
+wonderful art of entertaining and diverting people, though she would
+sometimes exceed the bounds of decency; . . . but then, with all her
+prate and noise, she was the most cunning, designing woman alive,
+obliging to people in prosperity, and a great party-woman.”  As regards
+the name “Presto,” see p. 5 note 3.
+
+{264b}  Probably a cousin.
+
+{264c}  Presumptuous: claiming much.
+
+{265}  See p. 123.  John Winchcombe, a weaver of Newbury, marched with a
+hundred of his workmen, at his own expenses, against the Scots in 1513.
+
+{266a}  Thomas Coke, M.P., of Derbyshire, was appointed a Teller of the
+Exchequer in 1704, and Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen in 1706.  In 1706 he
+married—as his second wife—Mrs. Hale, one of the maids of honour
+(Luttrell, v. 411, 423; vi. 113, 462; Lady Cowper’s _Diary_, 15, 16), a
+lady whose “piercing” beauty it was, apparently, that Steele described
+under the name of Chloe, in No. 4 of the _Tatler_.  Jervas painted her as
+a country girl, “with a liveliness that shows she is conscious, but not
+affected, of her perfections.”  Coke was the Sir Plume of Pope’s _Rape of
+the Lock_.
+
+{266b}  The committee of management of the Royal household.
+
+{266c}  Francesca Margherita de l’Epine, the famous singer, and principal
+rival of Mrs. Tofts, came to England in 1692, and constantly sang in
+opera until her retirement in 1718, when she married Dr. Pepusch.  She
+died in 1746.  Her sister, Maria Gallia, also a singer, did not attain
+the same popularity.
+
+{266d}  Charles Scarborow and Sir William Foster were the Clerks of the
+Board of Green Cloth.
+
+{267a}  See note on Thomas Coke, 266.
+
+{267b}  The Earl of Sunderland’s second wife, Lady Anne Churchill, who
+died in 1716, aged twenty-eight.  She was the favourite daughter of the
+Duke of Marlborough, and was called “the little Whig.”  Verses were
+written in honour of her beauty and talent by Charles Montagu, Earl of
+Halifax, Dr. Watts and others, and her portrait was painted by Lely and
+Kneller.
+
+{267c}  Mary, daughter of Sir William Forester, of Dothill, Shropshire.
+In 1700, at the age of thirteen, she had been secretly married to her
+cousin, George Downing, a lad of fifteen.  Three years later, Downing, on
+his return from abroad, refused to acknowledge his wife, and in 1715 both
+parties petitioned the House of Lords for leave to bring in a Bill
+declaring the marriage to be void; but leave was refused (Lords’
+_Journals_, xx. 41, 45).  Downing had become Sir George Downing, Bart.,
+in 1711, and had been elected M.P. for Dunwich; he died without issue in
+1749, and was the founder of Downing College, Cambridge.
+
+{268a}  In a discussion upon what would be the result if beards became
+the fashion, Budgell (_Spectator_, No. 331) says, “Besides, we are not
+certain that the ladies would not come into the mode, when they take the
+air on horseback.  They already appear in hats and feathers, coats and
+periwigs.”
+
+{268b}  Horse-racing was much encouraged by Charles II., who, as Strutt
+tells us, appointed races to be made in Datchet Mead, when he was
+residing at Windsor.  By Queen Anne’s time horse-racing was becoming a
+regular institution: see _Spectator_, No. 173.
+
+{269a}  John Montagu, second Duke of Montagu, married Lady Mary
+Churchill, youngest daughter of the Duke of Marlborough.
+
+{269b}  Of Clogher.
+
+{269c}  John Adams, Prebendary of Canterbury and Canon of Windsor.  He
+was made Provost of King’s College, Cambridge, in 1712, and died in 1720.
+
+{269d}  The Hon. and Rev. George Verney, Canon of Windsor (died 1728),
+became fourth Lord Willoughby de Broke on the death of his father (Sir
+Richard Verney, the third Baron), in July 1711.  Lord Willoughby became
+Dean of Windsor in 1713.
+
+{269e}  Thomas Hare, Under Secretary of State in Bolingbroke’s office.
+
+{269f}  Richard Sutton was the second son of Robert Sutton, the nephew of
+the Robert Sutton who was created Viscount Lexington by Charles I.
+Sutton served under William III. and Marlborough in Flanders, and was
+made a Brigadier-General in 1710, in which year also he was elected M.P.
+for Newark.  In 1711 he was appointed Governor of Hull, and he died, a
+Lieutenant-General, in 1737 (Dalton’s _Army Lists_, iii. 153)
+
+{270a}  Charles Seymour, sixth Duke of Somerset (1662–1748), known as
+“the proud Duke of Somerset.”  Through the influence which his
+wife—afterwards Mistress of the Robes (see p. 162)—had obtained over the
+Queen, he bore no small part in bringing about the changes of 1710.  His
+intrigues during this period were, however, mainly actuated by jealousy
+of Marlborough, and he had really no sympathies with the Tories.  His
+intrigues with the Whigs caused the utmost alarm to St. John and to
+Swift.
+
+{270b}  The third and last reference to Vanessa in the _Journal_.
+
+{271a}  “Pray God preserve her life, which is of great importance” (Swift
+to Archbishop King, Aug. 15, 1711).  St. John was at this moment very
+anxious to conciliate Mrs. Masham, as he felt that she was the only
+person capable of counteracting the intrigues of the Duchess of Somerset
+with the Queen.
+
+{271b}  Pontack, of Abchurch Lane, son of Arnaud de Pontac, President of
+the Parliament of Bordeaux, was proprietor of the most fashionable
+eating-house in London.  There the Royal Society met annually at dinner
+until 1746.  Several writers speak of the dinners at a guinea a head and
+upwards served at Pontack’s, and Swift comments on the price of the wine.
+
+{272a}  “His name was Read” (Scott).
+
+{272b}  Up to the end of 1709 the warrants for the payment of the works
+at Blenheim had been regularly issued by Godolphin and paid at the
+Treasury; over £200,000 was expended in this manner.  But after the
+dismissal of the Whigs the Queen drew tight the purse-strings.  The
+£20,000 mentioned by Swift was paid in 1711, but on June 1, 1712, Anne
+gave positive orders that nothing further should be allowed for Blenheim,
+though £12,000 remained due to the contractors.
+
+{273a}  The piercing of the lines before Bouchain, which Villars had
+declared to be the _non plus ultra_ of the Allies, one of the most
+striking proofs of Marlborough’s military genius.
+
+{273b}  See p. 212.
+
+{274a}  A fashionable gaming-house in St. James’s Street.
+
+{274b}  See p. 37.  The Grange, near Alresford, Hampshire, was Henley’s
+seat.  His wife (see p. 117) was the daughter of Peregrine Bertie, son of
+Montagu Bertie, second Earl of Lindsey; and Earl Poulett (see p. 190)
+married Bridget, an elder daughter of Bertie’s.
+
+{274c}  William Henry Hyde, Earl of Danby, grandson of the first Duke of
+Leeds (see p. 60), and eldest son of Peregrine Osborne, Baron Osborne and
+Viscount Dunblane, who succeeded to the dukedom in 1712.  Owing to this
+young man’s death (at the age of twenty-one), his brother, Peregrine
+Hyde, Marquis of Caermarthen, who married Harley’s daughter Elizabeth,
+afterwards became third Duke of Leeds.
+
+{275a}  See p. 54.
+
+{275b}  See p. 8.
+
+{276a}  William Gregg was a clerk in Harley’s office when the latter was
+Secretary of State under the Whig Administration.  In 1707–8 he was in
+treasonable correspondence with M. de Chamillart, the French Secretary of
+State.  When he was detected he was tried for high treason, and hanged on
+April 28.  The Lords who examined Gregg did their utmost to establish
+Harley’s complicity, which Gregg, however, with his dying breath solemnly
+denied.
+
+{276b}  By Swift himself.  The title was, _Some Remarks upon a Pamphlet
+entitled_, _A Letter to the Seven Lords of the Committee appointed to
+examine Gregg_.
+
+{276c}  See p. 120.  There is no copy in the British Museum.
+
+{277a}  Thomas Parnell, the poet, married, in 1706, Anne, daughter of
+Thomas Minchin, of Tipperary.  In 1711 Parnell was thirty-two years of
+age, and was Archdeacon of Clogher and Vicar of Clontibret.  Swift took
+much trouble to obtain for Parnell the friendship of Bolingbroke and
+other persons of note, and Parnell became a member of the Scriblerus
+Club.  In 1716 he was made Vicar of Finglas, and after his death in 1718
+Pope prepared an edition of his poems.  The fits of depression to which
+Parnell was liable became more marked after his wife’s death, and he
+seems to have to some extent given way to drink.  His sincerity and charm
+of manner made him welcome with men of both parties.
+
+{277b}  Dr. Henry Compton had been Bishop of London since 1675.  He was
+dangerously ill early in 1711, but he lived until 1713, when he was
+eighty-one.
+
+{278}  See p. 250.
+
+{279a}  See p. 50.
+
+{279b}  L’Estrange speaks of “a whiffling fop” and Swift says, “Every
+whiffler in a laced coat, who frequents the chocolate-house, shall talk
+of the Constitution.”
+
+{279c}  Prior’s first visit to France with a view to the secret
+negotiations with that country which the Ministers were now bent on
+carrying through, had been made in July, when he and Gaultier reached
+Calais in a fishing-boat and proceeded to Fontainbleau under assumed
+names.  He returned to England in August, but was recognised at Dover,
+whence the news spread all over London, to the great annoyance of the
+Ministers.  The officer who recognised Prior was John Macky, reputed
+author of those _Characters_ upon which Swift wrote comments.  Formerly a
+secret service agent under William III., Macky had been given the
+direction of the Ostend mail packets by Marlborough, to whom he
+communicated the news of Prior’s journey.  Bolingbroke threatened to hang
+Macky, and he was thrown into prison; but the accession of George I.
+again brought him favour and employment.
+
+{280}  See p. 106.
+
+{281a}  See p. 7.
+
+{281b}  See 34.
+
+{281c}  Edward Villiers (1656–1711), created Viscount Villiers in 1691,
+was made Earl of Jersey in 1697.  Under William III. he was Lord
+Chamberlain and Secretary of State, but he was dismissed from office in
+1704.  When he died he had been nominated as a plenipotentiary at the
+Congress of Utrecht, and was about to receive the appointment of Lord
+Privy Seal.  Lord Jersey married, in 1681, when she was eighteen,
+Barbara, daughter of William Chiffinch, closet-keeper to Charles II.; she
+died in 1735.
+
+{282}  Lord Paisley was the Earl of Abercorn’s eldest surviving son (see
+p. 161).
+
+{283a}  The Hon. John Hamilton, the Earl’s second surviving son, died in
+1714.
+
+{283b}  Dr. John Robinson (1650–1723) had gone out as chaplain to the
+Embassy at the Court of Sweden in 1682, and had returned in 1708 with the
+double reputation of being a thorough Churchman and a sound diplomatist.
+He was soon made Dean of Windsor, and afterwards Bishop of Bristol.  He
+was now introduced to the Council Board, and it was made known to those
+in the confidence of Ministers that he would be one of the English
+plenipotentiaries at the coming Peace Congress.  In 1713 Dr. Robinson was
+made Bishop of London.
+
+{283c}  To the Irish bishops: see above.
+
+{284a}  John Erskine, Earl of Mar (1675–1732), who was attainted for his
+part in the Rebellion of 1715.  His first wife, Lady Margaret Hay, was a
+daughter of Lord Kinnoull.
+
+{284b}  Thomas Hay, sixth Earl of Kinnoull (died 1719), a Commissioner
+for the Treaty of Union between England and Scotland, and one of the
+Scotch representative peers in the first Parliament of Great Britain.
+His son and heir, Viscount Dupplin, afterwards Baron Hay (see p. 30), who
+married Harley’s daughter Abigail, is often mentioned in the _Journal_.
+
+{284c}  See p. 7.
+
+{284d}  The title of the pamphlet was, _A New Journey to Paris_,
+_together with some Secret Transactions between the French King and an
+English Gentleman_.  _By the Sieur du Baudrier.  Translated from the
+French_.
+
+{285a}  See p. 97.
+
+{285b}  See p. 269.
+
+{286}  The Earl of Strafford (see p. 170) married, on Sept. 6, 1711,
+Anne, only daughter and heiress of Sir Henry Johnson, of Bradenham,
+Buckinghamshire, a wealthy shipbuilder.  Many of Lady Strafford’s letters
+to her husband are given in the _Wentworth Papers_, 1883.
+
+{287a}  Samuel Pratt, who was also Clerk of the Closet.
+
+{287b}  Alice Hill, woman of the bed-chamber to the Queen, died in 1762.
+
+{288a}  Enniscorthy, the name of a town in the county of Wexford.
+
+{288b}  Scrambling.
+
+{288c}  “These words in italics are written in strange, misshapen
+letters, inclining to the right hand, in imitation of Stella’s writing”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{288d}  Senior Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin.
+
+{289a}  John Pooley, appointed Bishop of Raphoe in 1702.
+
+{289b}  “These words in italics are miserably scrawled, in imitation of
+Stella’s hand” (Deane Swift).
+
+{290a}  See p. 54.
+
+{290b}  See p. 236.
+
+{291a}  See p. 74.
+
+{291b}  See p. 284.
+
+{293a}  Cf. the entry on the 11th (p. 291).
+
+{293b}  See p. 34.
+
+{294a}  William, Lord Villiers, second Earl of Jersey (died 1721), a
+strong Jacobite, had been M.P. for Kent before his father’s death.  He
+married, in 1704, Judith, only daughter of a City merchant, Frederick
+Herne, son of Sir Nathaniel Herne, Alderman; she died in 1735.  Lord
+Jersey, one of “the prettiest young peers in England,” was a companion of
+Bolingbroke, and stories in the _Wentworth Papers_ (pp. 149, 230, 395,
+445), show that he had a bad reputation.
+
+{294b}  See p. 269.
+
+{295a}  The name of Arbuthnot’s wife is not known: she died in 1730.
+
+{295b}  James Lovet, one of the “Yeomen Porters” at Court.
+
+{296a}  Richard Jones, Earl of Ranelagh, who died without male issue in
+January 1712.  Writing to Archbishop King on Jan. 8, Swift said, “Lord
+Ranelagh died on Sunday morning; he was very poor and needy, and could
+hardly support himself for want of a pension which used to be paid him.”
+
+{296b}  Arabella Churchill, maid of honour to the Duchess of York, and
+mistress of James II., afterwards married Colonel Charles Godfrey, Clerk
+Comptroller of the Green Cloth and Master of the Jewel Office.  Her
+second son by James II. was created Duke of Albemarle.
+
+{297a}  See p. 269.
+
+{297b}  The Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of Dublin, elected in August 1711,
+“not being approved of by the Government, the City was obliged to proceed
+to another election, which occasioned a great ferment among the vulgar
+sort” (Boyer, _Political State_, 1711, p. 500).  After two other persons
+had been elected and disapproved of, Alderman Gore was elected Lord
+Mayor, and approved (_ib._ pp. 612–17).
+
+{297c}  “These words in italics are written enormously large” (Deane
+Swift).
+
+{297d}  See p. 14.
+
+{298}  Henry Lowman, First Clerk of the Kitchen.
+
+{299}  “The Doctor was always a bad reckoner, either of money or anything
+else; and this is one of his rapid computations.  For, as Stella was
+seven days in journey, although Dr. Swift says only six, she might well
+have spent four days at Inish-Corthy, and two nights at Mrs. Proby’s
+mother’s, the distance from Wexford to Dublin being but two easy days’
+journey” (Deane Swift).
+
+{300}  Mrs. Fenton.
+
+{301}  See p. 86.
+
+{302a}  Charles Paulet, second Duke of Bolton, was appointed Lord
+Lieutenant of Ireland in 1717, and died in 1722.  In a note on Macky’s
+character of the Duke, Swift calls him “a great booby”; and Lady Cowper
+(_Diary_, p. 154) says that he was generally to be seen with his tongue
+lolling out of his mouth.
+
+{302b}  Stella’s maid.
+
+{303a}  See p. 106.
+
+{303b}  Colonel Fielding (see p. 154).
+
+{304a}  The envoys were Ménager and the Abbé du Bois; the priest was the
+Abbé Gaultier.
+
+{304b}  See p. 170.
+
+{304c}  Sir Theophilus Oglethorpe, General, who died in 1702, married
+Eleanor, daughter of Richard Wall, of Rogane, Tipperary.  She died in
+1732, and Swift described her as so “cunning a devil that she had great
+influence as a reconciler of the differences at Court.”  One of her sons
+was General James Oglethorpe, the philanthropist, and friend of Dr.
+Johnson.
+
+{305a}  “Worrit,” trouble, tease.
+
+{305b}  Sir John Walter, Bart. (died 1722), was M.P. for the city of
+Oxford.  He and Charles Godfrey (see p. 296) were the Clerks Comptrollers
+of the Green Cloth.
+
+{306}  See p. 306.
+
+{307a}  No doubt one of the daughters of Mervyn Tuchet, fourth Earl of
+Castlehaven, who died in 1686.
+
+{307b}  Henrietta Maria, daughter of Charles Scarborow (see p. 266).  She
+married, in 1712, Sir Robert Jenkinson, Bart., M.P. for Oxfordshire, who
+died without issue in 1717.  See _Wentworth Papers_, 244.
+
+{307c}  In July 1712 a Commission passed empowering Conyers Darcy and
+George Fielding (an equerry to the Queen) to execute the office of Master
+of the Horse.
+
+{307d}  At Killibride, about four miles from Trim.
+
+{308a}  Swift’s “mistress,” Lady Hyde (see p. 24), whose husband had
+become Earl of Rochester in May 1711.  She was forty-one in 1711.
+
+{308b}  See p. 296.
+
+{309a}  See p. 287.
+
+{309b}  See p. 206.
+
+{310a}  See p. 262, note 2.
+
+{310b}  See p. 250.
+
+{311a}  “This happens to be the only single line written upon the margin
+of any of his journals.  By some accident there was a margin about as
+broad as the back of a razor, and therefore he made this use of it”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{311b}  Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, of Colonel Kane’s regiment.
+
+{312a}  A nickname for the High Church party.
+
+{312b}  See p. 284.
+
+{312c}  “From this pleasantry of my Lord Oxford, the appellative Martinus
+Scriblerus took its rise” (Deane Swift).
+
+{312d}  Cf. the _Imitation of the Sixth Satire of the Second Book of
+Horace_, 1714, where Swift says that, during their drives together,
+Harley would
+
+             “gravely try to read the lines
+    Writ underneath the country signs.”
+
+{313a}  See p. 218.
+
+{313b}  See p. 170.
+
+{313c}  See p. 218.
+
+{314a}  Lord Pembroke (see p. 52) married, in 1708, as his second wife,
+Barbara, Dowager Baroness Arundell of Trerice, formerly widow of Sir
+Richard Mauleverer, and daughter of Sir Thomas Slingsby.  She died in
+1722.
+
+{314b}  Caleb Coatesworth, who died in 1741, leaving a large fortune.
+
+{314c}  Abel Boyer, Whig journalist and historian, attacked Swift in his
+pamphlet, _An Account of the State and Progress of the Present
+Negotiations for Peace_.  Boyer says that he was released from custody by
+Harley; and in the _Political State_ for 1711 (p. 646) he speaks of Swift
+as “a shameless and most contemptible ecclesiastical turncoat, whose
+tongue is as _swift_ to revile as his mind is _swift_ to change.”  The
+_Postboy_ said that Boyer would “be prosecuted with the utmost severity
+of the law” for this attack.
+
+{315a}  The “Edgar.”  Four hundred men were killed.
+
+{315b}  William Bretton, or Britton, was made Lieutenant-Colonel in 1702,
+Colonel of a new Regiment of Foot 1705, Brigadier-General 1710, and
+Colonel of the King’s Own Borderers in April 1711 (Dalton, _Army Lists_,
+iii. 238).  In December 1711 he was appointed Envoy Extraordinary to the
+King of Prussia (_Postboy_, Jan. 1, 1712), and he died in December 1714
+or January 1715.
+
+{317a}  See p. 229, note 4.
+
+{317b}  It is not clear which of several Lady Gores is here referred to.
+It may be (1) the wife of Sir William Gore, Bart., of Manor Gore, and
+Custos Rotulorum, County Leitrim, who married Hannah, eldest daughter and
+co-heir of James Hamilton, Esq., son of Sir Frederick Hamilton, and niece
+of Gustavus Hamilton, created Viscount Boyne.  She died 1733.  Or (2) the
+wife of Sir Ralph Gore, Bart. (died 1732), M.P. for County Donegal, and
+afterwards Speaker of the Irish House of Commons.  He married Miss
+Colville, daughter of Sir Robert Colville, of Newtown, Leitrim, and, as
+his second wife, Elizabeth, only daughter of Dr. Ashe, Bishop of Clogher.
+Or (3) the wife of Sir Arthur Gore, Bart. (died 1727), of Newtown Gore,
+Mayo, who married Eleanor, daughter of Sir George St. George, Bart., of
+Carrick, Leitrim, and was ancestor of the Earls of Arran.
+
+{318}  “Modern usage has sanctioned Stella’s spelling” (Scott).  Swift’s
+spelling was “wast.”
+
+{320}  Mrs. Manley.
+
+{321a}  Swift’s own lines, “Mrs. Frances Harris’s Petition.”
+
+{321b}  Thomas Coote was a justice of the Court of Queen’s Bench, in
+Ireland, from 1692 until his removal in 1715.
+
+{321c}  Probably a relative of Robert Echlin, Dean of Tuam, who was
+killed by some of his own servants in April 1712, at the age of
+seventy-three.  His son John became Prebendary and Vicar-General of Tuam,
+and died in 1764, aged eighty-three.  In August 1731 Bolingbroke sent
+Swift a letter by the hands of “Mr. Echlin,” who would, he said, tell
+Swift of the general state of things in England.
+
+{321d}  “This column of words, as they are corrected, is in Stella’s
+hand” (Deane Swift).
+
+{323a}  Swift’s verses, “The Description of a Salamander,” are a
+scurrilous attack on John, Lord Cutts (died 1707), who was famous for his
+bravery.  Joanna Cutts, the sister who complained of Swift’s abuse, died
+unmarried.
+
+{323b}  See p. 323.
+
+{323c}  Fourteen printers or publishers were arrested, under warrants
+signed by St. John, for publishing pamphlets directed against the
+Government.  They appeared at the Court of Queens Bench on Oct. 23, and
+were continued on their own recognisances till the end of the term.
+
+{324a}  Robert Benson (see p. 41).
+
+{324b}  “The South Sea Whim,” printed in Scott’s _Swift_, ii. 398.
+
+{324c}  See pp. 200, 205, 340.
+
+{325a}  Count Gallas was dismissed with a message that he might depart
+from the kingdom when he thought fit.  He published the preliminaries of
+peace in the _Daily Courant_.
+
+{325b}  William, second Viscount Hatton, who died without issue in 1760.
+His half-sister Anne married Daniel Finch, second Earl of Nottingham, and
+Lord Hatton was therefore uncle to his fellow-guest, Mr. Finch.
+
+{326a}  Crinkle or contract.  Gay writes: “Showers soon drench the
+camblet’s cockled grain.”
+
+{326b}  The Countess of Jersey (see p. 294), like her husband, was a
+friend of Bolingbroke’s.  Lady Strafford speaks of her having lately
+(November 1711) “been in pickle for her sins,” at which she was not
+surprised.  Before the Earl succeeded to the title, Lady Wentworth wrote
+to her son: “It’s said Lord Villors Lady was worth fower scoar thoussand
+pd; you might have got her, as wel as Lord Villors. . . .  He [Lord
+Jersey] has not don well by his son, the young lady is not yoused well as
+I hear amongst them, which in my openion is not well.”  _Wentworth
+Papers_ (pp. 214, 234).
+
+{329a}  Cf. p. 66.
+
+{329b}  Charles Crow, appointed Bishop of Cloyne in 1702.
+
+{330a}  Swift.
+
+{330b}  Mrs. Manley.
+
+{330c}  The titles of these pamphlets are as follows:—(1) _A True
+Narrative of . . . the Examination of the Marquis de Guiscard_; (2) _Some
+Remarks upon a Pamphlet entitled_, _A Letter to the Seven Lords_; (3) _A
+New Journey to Paris_; (4) _The Duke of Marlborough’s Vindication_; (5)
+_A Learned Comment on Dr. Hare’s Sermon_.
+
+{331}  See the pun on p. 329.
+
+{332a}  See p. 10.
+
+{332b}  See p. 97.
+
+{333a}  Pratt (see p. 5).
+
+{333b}  Stella and Dingley.
+
+{333c}  _Noah’s Dove_, _an Exhortation to Peace_, _set forth in a Sermon
+preached on the Seventh of November_, 1710, _a Thanksgiving Day_, _by
+Thomas Swift_, _A.M._, _formerly Chaplain to Sir William Temple_, _now
+Rector of Puttenham in Surrey_.  Thomas Swift was Swift’s “little parson
+cousin” (see p. 225).
+
+{333d}  See p. 36.  The book referred to is, apparently, _An Impartial
+Enquiry into the Management of the War in Spain_, post-dated 1712.
+
+{334a}  Lord Harley (afterwards second Earl of Oxford) (see p. 30)
+married, on Oct. 31, 1713, Lady Henrietta Cavendish Holles, only daughter
+of John Holles, last Duke of Newcastle of that family (see p. 257).
+
+{334b}  Bolingbroke afterwards said that the great aim (at length
+accomplished) of Harley’s administration was to marry his son to this
+young lady.  Swift wrote a poetical address to Lord Harley on his
+marriage.
+
+{334c}  Thomas Pelham, first Baron Pelham, married, as his second wife,
+Lady Grace Holles, daughter of the Earl of Clare and sister of the Duke
+of Newcastle.  Their eldest son, Thomas, who succeeded to the barony in
+1712, was afterwards created Earl of Clare and Duke of Newcastle,
+
+{335a}  Francis Higgins, Rector of Baldruddery, called “the Sacheverell
+of Ireland,” was an extreme High Churchman, who had been charged with
+sedition on account of sermons preached in London in 1707.  In 1711 he
+was again prosecuted as “a disloyal subject and disturber of the public
+peace.”  At that time he was Prebendary of Christ Church, Dublin; in 1725
+he was made Archdeacon of Cashel.
+
+{335b}  Swift’s pamphlet, _The Conduct of the Allies_.
+
+{335c}  Lord Oxford’s daughter Abigail married, in 1709, Viscount
+Dupplin, afterwards seventh Earl of Kinnoull (see p. 30).  She died in
+1750, and her husband in 1758, when the eldest son, Thomas, became Earl.
+The second son, Robert, was made Archbishop of York in 1761.
+
+{335d}  Kensington Gravel Pits was then a famous health resort.
+
+{336a}  Draggled.  Pope has, “A puppy, daggled through the town.”
+
+{336b}  Writing of Peperharrow, Manning and Bray state (_Surrey_, ii. 32,
+47) that Oxenford Grange was conveyed to Philip Froud (died 1736) in
+1700, and was sold by him in 1713 to Alan Broderick, afterwards Viscount
+Midleton.  This Froud (Swift’s “old Frowde”) had been Deputy
+Postmaster-General; he was son of Sir Philip Frowde, who was knighted in
+1665 (Le Neve’s _Knights_, Harleian Society, p. 190), and his son Philip
+was Addison’s friend (see p. 58).
+
+{336c}  Probably the Charles Child, Esq., of Farnham, whose death is
+recorded in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1754.
+
+{337}  Grace Spencer was probably Mrs. Proby’s sister (see p. 176, 202).
+
+{338a}  Cf. Shakespeare, _As You Like It_, v. 3: “Shall we clap into ’t
+roundly, without hawking or spitting, which are the only prologues to a
+bad voice?”
+
+{338b}  In the “Verses on his own Death,” 1731, Swift says
+
+    “When daily howd’y’s come of course,
+    And servants answer, ‘Worse and worse!’”
+
+Cf. Steele (_Tatler_, No. 109), “After so many howdies, you proceed to
+visit or not, as you like the run of each other’s reputation or fortune,”
+and (_Spectator_, No. 143), “the howd’ye servants of our women.”
+
+{341a}  See p. 304.
+
+{341b}  See p. 132.
+
+{341c}  The Tories alleged that the Duke of Marlborough, the Duke of
+Montagu, Steele, etc., were to take part in the procession (cf.
+_Spectator_, No. 269).  Swift admits that the images seized were worth
+less than £40, and not £1000, as he had said, and that the Devil was not
+like Harley; yet he employed someone to write a lying pamphlet, _A True
+Relation of the Several Facts and Circumstances of the Intended Riot and
+Tumult_, etc.
+
+{343a}  A brother of Jemmy Leigh (see p. 6), and one of Stella’s
+card-playing acquaintances.
+
+{343b}  Of _The Conduct of the Allies_ (see pp. 335, 345).
+
+{344a}  Sir Thomas Hanmer (see p. 69) married, in 1698, Isabella, widow
+of the first Duke of Grafton, and only daughter and heiress of Henry,
+Earl of Arlington.  She died in 1723.
+
+{344b}  James, Duke of Hamilton (see p. 262), married, in 1698, as his
+second wife, Elizabeth, daughter and sole heir of Digby, Lord Gerard.
+She died in 1744.
+
+{345a}  _The Conduct of the Allies_.
+
+{345b}  See p. 238.
+
+{346a}  Sir Matthew Dudley (see p. 7) married Lady Mary O’Bryen, youngest
+daughter of Henry, Earl of Thomond.
+
+{346b}  See p. 305.
+
+{346c}  Sir John St. Leger (died 1743) was M.P. for Doneraile and a Baron
+of the Exchequer in Ireland from 1714 to 1741.  His elder brother,
+Arthur, was created Viscount Doneraile in 1703.
+
+{346d}  _Relation of the Facts and Circumstances of the Intended Riot on
+Queen Elizabeth’s Birthday_.
+
+{346e}  _The Conduct of the Allies_.
+
+{346f}  See p. 73.
+
+{347a}  The first motto was “Partem tibi Gallia nostri eripuit,” etc.
+(Horace, 2 Od. 17–24).
+
+{347b}  See Plautus’s _Amphitrus_, or Dryden’s _Amphitryon_.
+
+{347c}  It is not known whether or no this was Dr. William Savage, Master
+of Emmanuel College, Cambridge.  No copy of the sermon—if it was
+printed—has been found.  See Courtenay’s _Memoirs of Sir William Temple_.
+
+{347d}  Of _The Conduct of the Allies_, a pamphlet which had a very wide
+circulation.  See a paper by Edward Solly in the _Antiquarian Magazine_,
+March 1885.
+
+{348a}  Allen Bathurst, M.P. (1684–1775), created Baron Bathurst in
+December 1711, and Earl Bathurst in 1772.  His second and eldest
+surviving son was appointed Lord Chancellor in the year preceding the
+father’s death.  Writing to her son in January 1711 (_Wentworth Papers_,
+173), Lady Wentworth said of Bathurst, “He is, next to you, the finest
+gentleman and the best young man I know; I love him dearly.”
+
+{348b}  See p. 72.
+
+{348c}  See p. 153.
+
+{348d}  Swift is alluding to the quarrel between Lord Santry (see p. 215)
+and Francis Higgins (see p. 335), which led to Higgins’s prosecution.
+The matter is described at length in Boyer’s _Political State_, 1711, pp.
+617 seq.
+
+{348e}  See p. 176.
+
+{349a}  No doubt the same as Colonel Newburgh (see _Journal_, March 5,
+1711–12).
+
+{349b}  Beaumont (see p. 1, 250).
+
+{349c}  See p. 301.
+
+{350}  Cf. p. 144.
+
+{351a}  See p. 341.
+
+{351b}  See p. 336.  Debtors could not be arrested on Sunday.
+
+{352a}  Sir George Pretyman, Bart., dissipated the fortune of the family.
+The title became dormant in 1749.
+
+{352b}  See the Introduction.
+
+{352c}  For the Whites of Farnham, see Manning and Bray’s _Surrey_, iii.
+177.
+
+{352d}  _The Conduct of the Allies_.
+
+{352e}  The Percevals were among Swift’s principal friends in the
+neighbourhood of Laracor.  In a letter to John Temple in 1706 (Forster’s
+_Life of Swift_, 182) Swift alludes to Perceval; in spite of different
+views in politics, “I always loved him,” says Swift, “very well as a man
+of very good understanding and humour.”  Perceval was related to Sir John
+Perceval, afterwards Earl of Egmont (see p. 175).
+
+{353a}  See p. 2.
+
+{353b}  See p. 58.
+
+{354a}  The _Examiner_ was resumed on Dec. 6, 1711, under Oldisworth’s
+editorship, and was continued by him until July 1714.
+
+{354b}  Daniel Finch, second Earl of Nottingham, a staunch Tory, had
+quarrelled with the Government and the Court.  On Dec. 7, 1711, he
+carried, by six votes, an amendment to the Address, to the effect that no
+peace would be acceptable which left Spain in the possession of the House
+of Bourbon.  Harley’s counter-stroke was the creation of twelve new
+peers.  The Whigs rewarded Nottingham by withdrawing their opposition to
+the Occasional Conformity Bill:
+
+{354c}  This “Song” begins:
+
+    “An orator dismal of Nottinghamshire,
+    Who had forty years let out his conscience for hire.”
+
+{355}  _The Conduct of the Allies_.
+
+{356}  Robert Bertie, Lord Willoughby de Eresby, and fourth Earl of
+Lindsey, was created Marquis of Lindsay in 1706, and Duke of Ancaster and
+Kesteven in 1715.  He died in 1723.
+
+{357a}  Lady Sunderland (see p. 267) and Lady Rialton, ladies of the
+bed-chamber to the Queen.
+
+{357b}  Hugh Cholmondeley (died 1724), the second Viscount, was created
+Viscount Malpas and Earl of Cholmondeley in 1706, and in 1708 was
+appointed Treasurer of Her Majesty’s Household, an office which he held
+until 1713, in spite of his Whig sympathies.  “Good for nothing, so far
+as ever I knew,” Swift wrote of him.
+
+{357c}  Prov. xxv. 3.
+
+{360a}  See p. 304.
+
+{360b}  Thomas Parker, afterwards created Earl of Macclesfield, was
+appointed Lord Chief-Justice in March 1710.  In September 1711 he
+declined Harley’s offer of the Lord Chancellorship, a post which he
+accepted under a Whig Government in the next reign.
+
+{361}  The Bill against Occasional Conformity.
+
+{362}  The proposed visit to London of Prince Eugene of Savoy, the
+renowned General, and friend of Marlborough, was viewed by the Government
+with considerable alarm.
+
+{363}  Swift’s “An excellent new Song; being the intended Speech of a
+famous orator against Peace,” a ballad “two degrees above Grub Street”
+(see p. 354).
+
+{364a}  Robert Walpole was then M.P. for King’s Lynn, and Leader of the
+Opposition in the House of Commons.  He had been Secretary at War from
+February 1708 to September 1710, and the Commissioners of Public Accounts
+having reported, on Dec. 21, 1711, that he had been guilty of venality
+and corruption, he was expelled from the House of Commons, and taken to
+the Tower.
+
+{364b}  William King, D.C.L., author of the _Journey to London in 1698_,
+_Dialogues of the Dead_, _The Art of Cookery_, and other amusing works,
+was, at the end of the month, appointed Gazetteer, in succession to
+Steele, on Swift’s recommendation.  Writing earlier in the year, Gay said
+that King deserved better than to “languish out the small remainder of
+his life in the Fleet Prison.”  The duties of Gazetteer were too much for
+his easy-going nature and failing health, and he resigned the post in
+July 1712.  He died in the following December.
+
+{364c}  At the bottom of St. James’s Street, on the west side.
+
+{365}  The Rev. John Shower, pastor of the Presbyterian Congregation at
+Curriers’ Hall, London Wall.
+
+{366a}  _The Windsor Prophecy_, in which the Duchess of Somerset (see p.
+162) is attacked as “Carrots from Northumberland.”
+
+{366b}  _Merlin’s Prophecy_, 1709, written in pseudo-mediæval English.
+
+{366c}  See p. 10.
+
+{367a}  Dorothy, daughter of Sir Edward Leach, of Shipley, Derbyshire.
+
+{367b}  Sir James Long, Bart. (died 1729), was at this time M.P. for
+Chippenham.
+
+{367c}  The number containing this paragraph is not in the British
+Museum.
+
+{368a}  Joseph Beaumont (see pp. 1, 250, 349).
+
+{368b}  See p. 19.
+
+{368c}  Apparently a misprint for “whether.”
+
+{369a}  See p. 321.
+
+{369b}  James Compton, afterwards fifth Earl of Northampton (died 1754),
+was summoned to the House of Lords as Baron Compton in December 1711.
+Charles Bruce, who succeeded his father as third Earl of Aylesbury in
+1741, was created Lord Bruce, of Whorlton, at the same time.
+
+{370}  James, Lord Compton, eldest son of the Earl of Northampton;
+Charles, Lord Bruce, eldest son of the Earl of Aylesbury; Henry Paget,
+son of Lord Paget; George Hay, Viscount Dupplin, the son-in-law of the
+Lord Treasurer, created Baron Hay; Viscount Windsor, created Baron
+Montjoy; Sir Thomas Mansel, Baron Mansel; Sir Thomas Willoughby, Baron
+Middleton; Sir Thomas Trevor, Baron Trevor; George Granville, Baron
+Lansdowne; Samuel Masham, Baron Masham; Thomas Foley, Baron Foley; and
+Allen Bathurst, Baron Bathurst.
+
+{371a}  Juliana, widow of the second Earl of Burlington, and daughter of
+the Hon. Henry Noel, was Mistress of the Robes to Queen Anne.  She died
+in 1750, aged seventy-eight.
+
+{371b}  Thomas Windsor, Viscount Windsor (died 1738), an Irish peer, who
+had served under William III. in Flanders, was created Baron Montjoy, of
+the Isle of Wight, in December 1711.  He married Charlotte, widow of
+John, Baron Jeffries, of Wem, and daughter of Philip Herbert, Earl of
+Pembroke.
+
+{372a}  The Hon. Russell Robartes, brother of Lord Radnor (see p. 8), was
+Teller of the Exchequer, and M.P. for Bodmin.  His son became third Earl
+of Radnor in 1723.
+
+{372b}  Gay (_Trivia_, ii. 92) speaks of “the slabby pavement.”
+
+{373}  See p. 158.
+
+{374a}  George Granville (see p. 130), now Baron Lansdowne, married Lady
+Mary Thynne, widow of Thomas Thynne, and daughter of Edward, Earl of
+Jersey (see p. 281).  In October 1710 Lady Wentworth wrote to her son,
+“Pray, my dear, why will you let Lady Mary Thynne go?  She is young,
+rich, and not unhandsome, some say she is pretty; and a virtuous lady,
+and of the nobility, and why will you not try to get her?”  (_Wentworth
+Papers_, 149).
+
+{374b}  See p. 225.
+
+{375}  Harness.
+
+{377a}  On his birthday Swift read the third chapter of Job.
+
+{377b}  See p. 329.
+
+{377c}  Sir George St. George of Dunmore, Co. Galway, M.P. for Co.
+Leitrim from 1661 to 1692, and afterwards for Co. Galway, died in
+December 1711.
+
+{378a}  See pp. 305, 346.
+
+{378b}  See p. 20.
+
+{378c}  Dr. Pratt (see p. 5).
+
+{378d}  _King Henry VIII._, act iv. sc. 2; “An old man broken with the
+storms,” etc.
+
+{379}  “These words in the manuscript imitate Stella’s writing, and are
+sloped the wrong way” (Deane Swift),
+
+{380a}  Archibald Douglas, third Marquis of Douglas, was created Duke of
+Douglas in 1703.  He died, without issue, in 1761.
+
+{380b}  Arbuthnot and Freind.
+
+{381}  Sir Stephen Evance, goldsmith, was knighted in 1690.
+
+{382}  Because of the refusal of the House of Lords to allow the Duke of
+Hamilton (see p. 262), a Scottish peer who had been raised to the peerage
+of Great Britain as Duke of Brandon, to sit under that title.  The
+Scottish peers discontinued their attendance at the House until the
+resolution was partially amended; and the Duke of Hamilton always sat as
+a representative Scottish peer.
+
+{383}  Sir William Robinson (1655–1736), created a baronet in 1689, was
+M.P. for York from 1697 to 1722.  His descendants include the late Earl
+De Grey and the Marquis of Ripon.
+
+{384}  See p. 152.  The full title was, _Some Advice humbly offered to
+the Members of the October Club_, _in a Letter from a Person of Honour_.
+
+{385a}  See p. 377.
+
+{385b}  “It is the last of the page, and written close to the edge of the
+paper” (Deane Swift).
+
+{385c}  Henry Somerset, second Duke of Beaufort.  In September 1711 the
+Duke—who was then only twenty-seven—married, as his third wife, Mary,
+youngest daughter of the Duke of Leeds.  In the following January Lady
+Strafford wrote, “The Duke and Duchess of Beaufort are the fondest of one
+another in the world; I fear ’tis too hot to hold. . . .  I own I fancy
+people may love one another as well without making so great a rout”
+(_Wentworth Papers_, 256).  The Duke died in 1714, at the age of thirty.
+
+{386a}  “Upon the 10th and 17th of this month the _Examiner_ was very
+severe upon the Duke of Marlborough, and in consequence of this report
+pursued him with greater virulence in the following course of his papers”
+(Deane Swift).
+
+{386b}  A term of execration.  Scott (_Kenilworth_) has, “A pize on it.”
+
+{387a}  See p. 89.
+
+{387b}  In a letter to Swift of Jan. 31, 1712, Sacheverell, after
+expressing his indebtedness to St. John and Harley, said, “For yourself,
+good Doctor, who was the first spring to move it, I can never
+sufficiently acknowledge the obligation,” and in a postscript he hinted
+that a place in the Custom House which he heard was vacant might suit his
+brother.
+
+{387c}  Thomas Yalden, D.D., (1671–1736), Addison’s college friend,
+succeeded Atterbury as preacher of Bridewell Hospital in 1713.  In 1723
+he was arrested on suspicion of being involved in the Atterbury plot.
+
+{387d}  Tablets.
+
+{388a}  Sir Solomon de Medina, a Jew, was knighted in 1700.
+
+{388b}  Davenant had been said to be the writer of papers which Swift
+contributed to the _Examiner_.
+
+{389a}  Henry Withers, a friend of “Duke” Disney (see p. 153), was
+appointed Lieutenant-General in 1707, and Major-General in 1712.  On his
+death in 1729 he was buried in Westminster Abbey.
+
+{389b}  See p. 360.
+
+{390}  Dyer’s _News Letter_, the favourite reading of Sir Roger de
+Coverley (_Spectator_, No. 127), was the work of John Dyer, a Jacobite
+journalist.  In the _Tatler_ (No. 18) Addison says that Dyer was “justly
+looked upon by all the fox-hunters in the nation as the greatest
+statesman our country has produced.”  Lord Chief-Justice Holt referred to
+the _News Letter_ as “a little scandalous paper of a scandalous author”
+(Howell’s _State Trials_, xiv. 1150).
+
+{391}  Dr. John Sharp, made Archbishop of York in 1691, was called by
+Swift “the harmless tool of others’ hate.”  Swift believed that Sharp,
+owing to his dislike of _The Tale of a Tub_, assisted in preventing the
+bishopric of Hereford being offered to him.  Sharp was an excellent
+preacher, with a taste for both poetry and science.
+
+{392a}  An edition of the Countess d’Aulnoy’s _Les Contes des Fées_
+appeared in 1710, in four volumes.
+
+{392b}  Francis Godolphin, Viscount Rialton, the eldest son of Sidney,
+Earl of Godolphin, succeeded his father as second Earl on Sept. 15, 1712.
+He held 3 various offices, including that of Lord Privy Seal (1735–1740),
+and died in 1766, aged eighty-eight.  He married, in 1698, Lady Henrietta
+Churchill, who afterwards was Duchess of Marlborough in her own right.
+She died in 1733.
+
+{392c}  See p. 256.  Ladies of the bed-chamber received £1000 a year.
+
+{392d}  William O’Brien, third Earl of Inchiquin, succeeded his father in
+1691, and died in 1719.
+
+{393a}  Lady Catherine Hyde was an unmarried daughter of Laurence Hyde,
+first Earl of Rochester (see p. 60).  Notwithstanding Swift’s express
+statement that the lady to whom he here refers was the late Earl’s
+daughter, and the allusion to her sister, Lady Dalkeith, in Letter 60,
+note 26, she has been confused by previous editors with her niece, Lady
+Catherine Hyde (see p. 256), daughter of the second Earl, and afterwards
+Duchess of Queensberry.  That lady, not long afterwards to be celebrated
+by Prior, was a child under twelve when Swift wrote.
+
+{393b}  Sir John Trevor (1637–1717), formerly Speaker of the House of
+Commons.
+
+{393c}  See p. 97.
+
+{393d}  See p. 335.
+
+{393e}  See p. 215.
+
+{393f}  Charles Trimnel, made Bishop of Norwich in 1708, and Bishop of
+Winchester in 1721, was strongly opposed to High Church doctrines.
+
+{394a}  Jibe or jest.
+
+{394b}  See p. 206.
+
+{394c}  The treaty concluded with Holland in 1711.
+
+{395a}  Feb. 2 is the Purification of the Virgin Mary.
+
+{395b}  See p. 284.
+
+{396}  See p. 99.
+
+{397a}  Lady Mary Butler (see pp. 14, 44), daughter of the Duke of
+Ormond, who married, in 1710, John, third Lord Ashburnham, afterwards
+Earl of Ashburnham.
+
+{397b}  See p. 4.
+
+{397c}  See p. 357.
+
+{397d}  Scroop Egerton, fifth Earl and first Duke of Bridgewater,
+married, in 1703, Lady Elizabeth Churchill, third daughter of the Duke of
+Marlborough.  She died in 1714, aged twenty-six.
+
+{397e}  See p. 294.
+
+{398a}  Heart.
+
+{398b}  Edward Fowler, D.D., appointed Bishop of Gloucester in 1691, died
+in 1714.
+
+{399a}  Isaac Manley (see p. 7).
+
+{399b}  This letter, the first of the series published by Hawkesworth, of
+which we have the originals (see Preface), was addressed “To Mrs. Johnson
+at her Lodgings over against St. Mary’s Church, near Capell Street,
+Dublin, Ireland”; and was endorsed by her “Recd. Mar. 1st.”
+
+{400a}  See p. 85.
+
+{400b}  See p. 116.
+
+{400c}  See p. 215.
+
+{400d}  Charles Ross, son of the eleventh Baron Ross, was Colonel of the
+Royal Irish Dragoons from 1695 to 1705.  He was a Lieutenant-General
+under the Duke of Ormond in Flanders, and died in 1732 (Dalton, ii. 212,
+iii. 34).
+
+{400e}  Charles Paulet, Marquis of Winchester, succeeded his father (see
+p. 302) as third Duke of Bolton in 1722.  He married, as his second wife,
+Lavinia Fenton, the actress who took the part of Polly Peacham in Gay’s
+_Beggars Opera_ in 1728, and he died in 1754.
+
+{401a}  John Blith, or Bligh, son of the Right Hon. Thomas Bligh, M.P. of
+Rathmore, Co. Meath (see p. 22).  In August 1713 he married Lady
+Theodosia Hyde, daughter of Edward, third Earl of Clarendon.  Lord
+Berkeley of Stratton wrote, “Lady Theodosia Hyde . . . is married to an
+Irish Mr. Blythe, of a good estate, who will soon have enough of her, if
+I can give any guess” (_Wentworth Papers_, 353).  In 1715 Bligh was made
+Baron Clifton, of Rathmore, and Earl of Darnley in 1725.  He died in
+1728.
+
+{401b}  Obliterated.
+
+{401c}  Word obliterated; probably “found.”  Forster reads “oors, dee
+MD.”
+
+{401d}  Words obliterated.
+
+{401e}  See pp. 86, 301.
+
+{401f}  See pp. 73, 192–3.
+
+{402a}  Words obliterated.  Forster reads “fourth.  Euge, euge, euge.”
+
+{402b}  Words obliterated; one illegible.
+
+{402c}  See p. 5.
+
+{402d}  See p. 2.
+
+{402e}  Service.
+
+{402f}  “Aplon”—if this is the right word—means, of course, apron—the
+apron referred to on p. 389.
+
+{402g}  Words obliterated.
+
+{403a}  As the son of a “brother” of the Club.
+
+{403b}  The Archbishop, Dr. King.
+
+{403c}  See Tacitus, _Annals_, book ii.  Cn. Calpurnius Piso, who was
+said to have poisoned Germanicus, was found with his throat cut.
+
+{403d}  This satire on Marlborough concludes—
+
+    “And Midas now neglected stands,
+    With asses’ ears and dirty hands.”
+
+{404a}  Dr. Robinson, Bishop of Bristol.
+
+{404b}  _Some Remarks on the Barrier Treaty_.
+
+{405a}  Several words are obliterated.  Forster reads “MD MD, for we must
+always write to MD MD MD, awake or asleep;” but the passage is illegible.
+
+{405b}  See pp. 95, 517–8.
+
+{405c}  A long erasure.  Forster reads “Go to bed.  Help pdfr.  Rove
+pdfr.  MD MD.  Nite darling rogues.”
+
+{405d}  Word obliterated.  Forster reads “saucy.”
+
+{405e}  Letter from.
+
+{406a}  Words partially obliterated.
+
+{406b}  Swift wrote by mistake, “On Europe Britain’s safety lies”; the
+slip was pointed out by Hawkesworth.  All the verse is written in the
+MSS. as prose.
+
+{406c}  “Them” (MS.).
+
+{406d}  See Wyons _Queen Anne_, ii. 366–7.
+
+{407a}  _A Proposal for Correcting_, _Improving_, _and Ascertaining the
+English Tongue_, _in a Letter to the Most Honourable Robert_, _Earl of
+Oxford_, 1712.
+
+{407b}  “Help him to draw up the representation” (omitting every other
+letter).
+
+{407c}  See p. 217.
+
+{407d}  Robert Benson.
+
+{408a}  _The Story of the St. Albans Ghost_, 1712.
+
+{408b}  “Usually” (MS.).
+
+{408c}  These words are partially obliterated.
+
+{408d}  This sentence is obliterated.  Forster reads, “Farewell, mine
+deelest rife deelest char Ppt, MD MD MD Ppt, FW, Lele MD, ME ME ME ME
+aden FW MD Lazy ones Lele Lele all a Lele.”
+
+{408e}  Endorsed by Stella “Recd. Mar. 19.”
+
+{409a}  “Would” (MS.).
+
+{409b}  Conversation.
+
+{410a}  John Guillim’s _Display of Heraldrie_ appeared first in 1610.
+The edition to which Swift refers was probably that of 1679, which is
+wrongly described as the “fifth edition,” instead of the seventh.
+
+{410b}  “One of the horses here mentioned may have been the celebrated
+Godolphin Arabian from whom descends all the blue blood of the
+racecourse, and who was the grandfather of Eclipse” (Larwood’s _Story of
+the London Parks_, 99).
+
+{410c}  See p. 352.
+
+{410d}  Dorothea, daughter of James Stopford, of New Hall, County Meath,
+and sister of Lady Newtown-Butler, was the second wife of Edward, fourth
+Earl of Meath, who died without issue in 1707.  She afterwards married
+General Richard Gorges (see _Journal_, April 5, 1713), of Kilbrue, County
+Meath, and Swift wrote an epitaph on them—“Doll and Dickey.”
+
+{411}  Here follow some obliterated words.
+
+{412a}  Barber (see p. 106).
+
+{412b}  “The editors supposed Zinkerman (which they printed in capitals)
+to mean some outlandish or foreign distinction; but it is the little
+language for ‘gentleman’” (Forster).
+
+{412c}  The Hon. Charles Butler, second son of Thomas, Earl of Ossory,
+eldest son of James, Duke of Ormond, was elevated to the peerage of
+Ireland in 1693 as Earl of Arran, and was also created a peer of England,
+as Baron Butler.  He held various offices under William III. and Queen
+Anne, and died without issue in 1759.
+
+{413a}  “They” (MS.).
+
+{413b}  See pp. 10, 381–2.
+
+{413c}  See p. 89.
+
+{414a}  Sir William Wyndham, Bart., of Orchard Wyndham, married Lady
+Catherine Seymour, daughter of the sixth Duke of Somerset (see p. 236).
+Their eldest son, Charles, succeeded his uncle, the Duke of Somerset, as
+Earl of Egremont; and the second son, Percy, was afterwards created Earl
+of Thomond.  The Wyndhams’ house was in Albemarle Street; the loss was
+over £20,000; but they were “much more concerned for their servants than
+for all the other losses” (_Wentworth Papers_, 274).  The Duke of Ormond
+“worked as hard as any of the ordinary men, and gave many guineas about
+to encourage the men to work hard.”  The Queen gave the Wyndhams
+temporary lodgings in “St. James’s house.”
+
+{414b}  See p. 12.
+
+{415a}  What.
+
+{415b}  Devil’s.
+
+{415c}  “To” (MS.).
+
+{416a}  See p. 349.
+
+{416b}  See p. 406.
+
+{416c}  See pp. 113–4.
+
+{417a}  Peregrine Hyde Osborne, Earl of Danby, afterwards Marquis of
+Caermarthen and third Duke of Leeds (see p. 473).  His sister Mary was
+married to the Duke of Beaufort (see p. 385).
+
+{417b}  See p. 72.
+
+{417c}  Several undecipherable words.  Forster reads, “Pidy Pdfr, deelest
+Sollahs.”
+
+{417d}  “K” (MS.).  It should, of course, be “Queen’s.”
+
+{417e}  See p. 213.
+
+{418a}  Addressed “To Mrs. Johnson, at her lodgings over against St.
+Mary’s Church, near Capel Street, Dublin, Ireland.”  Endorsed “Mar. 30.”
+
+{418b}  See p. 66.
+
+{419a}  The Mohocks succeeded the Scowrers of William III.’s reign.  Gay
+(_Trivia_, iii. 325) says—
+
+    “Who has not heard the Scowrers’ midnight fame?
+    Who has not trembled at the Mohocks’ name?”
+
+Lady Wentworth (_Wentworth Papers_, 277) says: “They put an old woman
+into a hogshead, and rolled her down a hill; they cut off some noses,
+others’ hands, and several barbarous tricks, without any provocation.
+They are said to be young gentlemen; they never take any money from any.”
+See also the _Spectator_, Nos. 324, 332, and 347 (where Budgell alludes
+to “the late panic fear”), and Defoe’s _Review_ for March 15, 1712.
+Swift was in considerable alarm about the Mohocks throughout March, and
+said that they were all Whigs.  The reports that numbers of persons,
+including men of figure, had joined together to commit assaults in the
+streets, made many fear to leave their houses at night.  A proclamation
+was issued for the suppressing of riots and the discovery of those guilty
+of the late outrages; but it seems probable that the disorders were not
+more frequent than might be expected from time to time in a great city.
+
+{419b}  Henry Davenant, son of Charles Davenant (see p. 58), was Resident
+at Frankfort.  Macky described him as “very giddy-headed, with some wit,”
+to which Swift added, “He is not worth mentioning.”
+
+{419c}  Thomas Burnet, youngest son of Gilbert Burnet, Bishop of
+Salisbury, was at this time a young man about town of no good reputation.
+Afterwards he turned his attention to the law, and was appointed a judge
+of the Court of Common Pleas in 1741.  He was knighted in 1745, and died
+in 1753.
+
+{420a}  By Arbuthnot, written to recommend the peace proposals of the
+Government.  The full title was, _Law is a Bottomless Pit_.  _Exemplified
+in the case of the Lord Strutt_, _John Bull_, _Nicholas Frog_, _and Lewis
+Baboon_; _who spent all they had in a Law Suit_.
+
+{420b}  See pp. 238, 407.
+
+{420c}  Our little language.
+
+{421a}  Forster reads, “two deelest nauty nown MD.”
+
+{421b}  See p. 36.
+
+{422a}  William Diaper, son of Joseph Diaper of Bridgewater, was sent to
+Balliol College, Oxford, in 1699, at the age of fourteen.  He entered the
+Church, and was curate at Brent, Somerset; but he died in 1717, aged
+twenty-nine.
+
+{422b}  The _Examiner_ (vol. ii. No. 15) complained of general bribery
+and oppression on the part of officials and underlings in the public
+service, especially in matters connected with the army; but the writer
+said that the head (Lord Lansdowne) was just and liberal in his nature,
+and easy in his fortune, and a man of honour and virtue.
+
+{422c}  Sealed documents given to show that a merchant’s goods are
+entered.
+
+{422d}  Thomas Lawrence, First Physician to Queen Anne, and
+Physician-General to the Army, died in 1714 (_Gentleman’s Magazine_,
+1815, ii. 17).  His daughter Elizabeth was second wife to Lord Mohun.
+
+{423a}  See 163.
+
+{423b}  See 245.
+
+{423c}  No officer named Newcomb appears in Dalton’s _Army Lists_; but
+the allusion to General Ross, further on in Letter 43, adds to the
+probability that Swift was referring to one of the sons of Sir Thomas
+Newcomen, Bart., who was killed at the siege of Enniskillen.  Beverley
+Newcomen (Dalton, iii. 52, iv. 60), who was probably Swift’s
+acquaintance, was described in a petition of 1706 as a Lieutenant who had
+served at Killiecrankie, and had been in Major-General Ross’s regiment
+ever since 1695.
+
+{423d}  Atterbury.
+
+{424a}  Evidently a familiar quotation at the time.  Forster reads,
+incorrectly, “But the more I lite MD.”
+
+{424b}  See p. 400.
+
+{424c}  See p. 104.
+
+{424d}  In 1681, Elizabeth, only daughter and heiress of John Ayres, of
+the City of London, then aged about twenty, became the fourth and last
+wife of Heneage Finch, Earl of Winchelsea, who died in 1689.  She lived
+until 1745.
+
+{424e}  See p. 218.
+
+{424f}  Enoch Sterne (see p. 20).
+
+{424g}  Lieut.-Col. Robert Sterne was in Col. Frederick Hamilton’s
+Regiment in 1695.
+
+{425a}  Letter.
+
+{425b}  See p. 120.
+
+{425c}  The title was, _John Bull in his Senses_: _being the Second Part
+of Law is a Bottomless Pit_.
+
+{425d}  See p. 352.
+
+{425e}  Cf. note 9 above.  Forster reads “nautyas,” when the words would
+mean “as naughty as nine,” apparently.
+
+{426a}  See p. 424, note 1.
+
+{426b}  In 1549, James, second Earl of Arran, was made Duke of
+Chatelherault by Henry II. of France.  His eldest son died without issue;
+the _second_, John, became first Marquis of Hamilton, and was
+great-grandfather of Lady Anne Hamilton (Duchess of Hamilton), mother of
+the Duke of Swift’s _Journal_.  The Earl of Abercorn, on the other hand,
+was descended from Claud, _third_ son of the Earl of Arran, but in the
+male line; and his claim was therefore the stronger, according to the
+French law of inheritance.
+
+{426c}  Madams.
+
+{427a}  This word is doubtful.  Forster reads “cobbled.”
+
+{427b}  A mistake, apparently, for “writing.”  The letter was begun on
+March 8.
+
+{427c}  Silly jade.
+
+{427d}  O Lord, what a clutter.
+
+{427e}  On the death of Dr. William Graham, Dean of Wells, it was
+reported that Swift was to be his successor.  Dr. Brailsford, however,
+received the appointment.
+
+{427f}  Abel Roper (1665–1726), a Tory journalist, published, thrice
+weekly, the _Postboy_, to which Swift sometimes sent paragraphs.  Boyer
+(_Political State_, 1711, p. 678) said that Roper was only the tool of a
+party; “there are men of figure and distinction behind the curtain, who
+furnish him with such scandalous reflections as they think proper to cast
+upon their antagonists.”
+
+{427g}  Joe Beaumont.
+
+{428a}  Beg your pardon, Madams, I’m glad you like your apron (see p.
+402).
+
+{428b}  This word was smudged by Swift.
+
+{429a}  I cannot find Somers in contemporary lists of officials.  Cf. pp.
+159, 298.
+
+{429b}  Obliterated and doubtful.
+
+{429c}  Words obliterated and illegible.  Forster reads, conjecturally,
+“Pray send Pdfr the ME account that I may have time to write to
+Parvisol.”
+
+{429d}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Apr. 14.”
+
+{430a}  “Is” (MS.).
+
+{430b}  The words after “yet” are partially obliterated.
+
+{431a}  See p. 53.
+
+{431b}  John Cecil, sixth Earl of Exeter (died 1721).
+
+{432a}  See p. 206.
+
+{432b}  Arbuthnot.
+
+{433a}  A resort of the Tories.
+
+{433b}  Deane Swift, a son of Swift’s uncle Godwin, was a merchant in
+Lisbon.
+
+{433c}  Winces.  Lyly says, “Rubbe there no more, least I winch.”
+
+{433d}  Probably William Whiston, who was deprived of the Lucasian
+professorship at Cambridge in 1710 for his heterodox views.  Parliament
+having offered a reward for the discovery of means of finding the
+longitude, Whiston made several attempts (1714 and 1721).
+
+{434a}  Word obliterated.
+
+{434b}  Distilled water prepared with rosemary flowers.  In Fielding’s
+_Joseph Andrews_, a lady gives up to a highway robber, in her fright, a
+silver bottle which, the ruffian said, contained some of the best brandy
+he had ever tasted; this she “afterwards assured the company was a
+mistake of her maid, for that she had ordered her to fill the bottle with
+Hungary water.”
+
+{435a}  As I hope to be saved.
+
+{435b}  Added on the fourth page, as the letter was folded.
+
+{436a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Johnson,” etc.  Endorsed “May 1st.”
+
+{436b}  A kind of clover, used for soothing purposes.
+
+{437a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “May 15.”
+
+{437b}  Madam Ayris.
+
+{437c}  Simpleton.
+
+{437d}  Robert Benson (see p. 41).
+
+{437e}  See pp. 407, 420.
+
+{438a}  The title was, _An Appendix to John Bull still in his Senses_:
+_or_, _Law is a Bottomless Pit_.
+
+{438b}  Arbuthnot.
+
+{438c}  Enquiries by servants.
+
+{438d}  See p. 160.
+
+{438e}  Sick.
+
+{439a}  Afterwards Rector of Letcombe, Berks.  It was to his house that
+Swift repaired a few weeks before the Queen’s death.  On June 8, 1714, he
+wrote, “I am at a clergyman’s house, whom I love very well, but he is
+such a melancholy, thoughtful man, partly from nature, and partly by a
+solitary life, that I shall soon catch the spleen from him.  His wife has
+been this month twenty miles off at her father’s, and will not return
+these ten days, and perhaps the house will be worse when she comes.”
+Swift spells the name “Geree”; later on in the _Journal_ he mentions two
+of Mr. Gery’s sisters, Betty (Mrs. Elwick) and Moll (Mrs. Wigmore);
+probably he made the acquaintance of the family when he was living with
+the Temples at Moor Park (see p. 502).
+
+{439b}  Because she is a good girl in other things.
+
+{439c}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “June 5.”
+
+{439d}  Sice, the number six at dice.
+
+{440a}  At Laracor Swift had “a canal and river-walk and willows.”
+
+{440b}  Splenetic fellow.
+
+{440c}  One of them was by Oldmixon: _Reflections on Dr. Swift’s Letter
+to the Earl of Oxford_.
+
+{440d}  Beg your pardon.
+
+{440e}  See p. 239.
+
+{440f}  On May 28, Lord Halifax moved an Address to the Queen that the
+instructions given to the Duke of Ormond might be laid before the House,
+and that further orders might be issued to him to act offensively, in
+concert with the Allies.  Wharton and Nottingham supported the motion,
+but it was negatived by 68 votes against 40.  A similar motion in the
+House of Commons was defeated by 203 against 73.
+
+{440g}  See p. 335.
+
+{441a}  See p. 217.
+
+{441b}  _Some Reasons to prove that no Person is obliged by his
+Principles_, _as a Whig_, _to oppose Her Majesty_: _in a Letter to a Whig
+Lord_.
+
+{441c}  Several words obliterated.
+
+{441d}  Several words obliterated.
+
+{441e}  The bellman.
+
+{442a}  This present writing.
+
+{442b}  Please.
+
+{442c}  Addressed to “Mrs. Rebecca Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “June 23d.”
+
+{443a}  Mr. Ryland reads “second.”
+
+{443b}  As I hope to be saved.
+
+{444a}  See p. 295.
+
+{444b}  Glad at heart.
+
+{445a}  The threepenny pamphlet mentioned on p. 441.
+
+{445b}  _I.e._, for.
+
+{445c}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley.”  Endorsed “July 8.”
+
+{445d}  See p. 277.
+
+{446a}  See p. 76.
+
+{446b}  See p. 9.
+
+{446c}  See pp. 295, 444.
+
+{446d}  Dr. William Lloyd—one of the Seven Bishops of 1688—was
+eighty-four years of age at this time; he died five years later.  He was
+a strong antipapist, and a great student of the Apocalypse, besides being
+a hard-working bishop.  A curious letter from him to Lord Oxford about a
+coming war of religion is given in the Welbeck Papers (Hist. MSS. Comm.)
+v. 128.
+
+{447a}  _Toland’s Invitation to Dismal to dine with the Calf’s Head
+Club_.  The Earl of Nottingham (Dismal) had deserted the Tories, and
+Swift’s imitation of Horace (Epist. I. v.) is an invitation from Toland
+to dine with “his trusty friends” in celebration of the execution of
+Charles I.  The Calf’s Head Club was in the habit of toasting “confusion
+to the race of kings.”
+
+{447b}  Bolingbroke.
+
+{447c}  George Fitzroy, Duke of Northumberland (died 1716), a natural son
+of Charles II., was also Viscount Falmouth and Baron of Pontefract.  See
+_Notes and Queries_, viii. i. 135.
+
+{447d}  Enoch Sterne.
+
+{448a}  Templeoag (p. 443).
+
+{448b}  Swift probably was only repeating an inaccurate rumour, for there
+is no evidence that Steele was arrested.  His gambling scheme was
+withdrawn directly an information was laid under the new Act of
+Parliament against gambling (Aitken’s _Life of Steele_, i. 347).
+
+{448c}  Dr. William Moreton (1641–1715), Swift’s diocesan, was translated
+from the see of Kildare to that of Meath in 1705.
+
+{448d}  Words obliterated.  Forster reads conjecturally, “when ME wants
+me to send.  She ought to have it,” etc.
+
+{449a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “July 23.”
+
+{449b}  “N. 33” seems a mistake.  Letter No. 32 was received after Swift
+had left Kensington and gone to Windsor; see pp. 452, 456 (Ryland).
+
+{450a}  Dr. Moreton (see p. 448).
+
+{450b}  Memoranda.
+
+{450c}  Again.
+
+{450d}  O Lord, drunken slut.
+
+{450e}  There’s for you now, and there’s for your letter, and every kind
+of thing.
+
+{450f}  Bolingbroke.
+
+{451a}  See p. 120.
+
+{451b}  Grub Street pamphlet.  The title was, _A Supposed Letter from the
+Pretender to another Whig Lord_.
+
+{451c}  Arnold Joost Van Keppel, created Earl of Albemarle in 1697.  He
+died in 1718.  The action referred to was at Denain, where the Dutch were
+defeated by Villars.
+
+{452a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Aug. 14.”
+
+{452b}  Perhaps this was influenza.
+
+{453a}  By the Stamp Act passed on June 10, 1712—which was repealed in
+1859—a duty of one halfpenny was levied on all pamphlets and newspapers
+contained in half a sheet or less, and a duty of one penny on those of
+more than half but not exceeding a whole sheet.  Swift opposed the idea
+in January 1711 (see p. 138), and Defoe argued against the Bill in the
+_Review_ for April 26, 1712, and following numbers.  Addison, in the
+_Spectator_, No. 445, spoke of the mortality among authors resulting from
+the Stamp Act as “the fall of the leaf.”
+
+{453b}  The title is, _Lewis Baboon turned honest_, _and John Bull
+politician_.  _Being the Fourth Part of Law is a Bottomless Pit_.  This
+pamphlet—really the fifth of the series—appeared on July 31, 1712.
+
+{453c}  Poor Laracor.
+
+{454a}  See p. 104.
+
+{454b}  On the death of the third Earl in 1712, the title of Earl of
+Winchelsea passed to his uncle, Heneage Finch, who had married Anne,
+daughter of Sir William Kingsmill (see p. 227).
+
+{454c}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Oct. 1st.  At
+Portraune” [Portraine].
+
+{455a}  Oxford and Bolingbroke.
+
+{455b}  Including Hester Vanhomrigh.
+
+{456a}  He died on Sept. 15, 1712.
+
+{456b}  Elizabeth Villiers, eldest daughter of Sir Edward Villiers,
+Knight Marischal of England, and sister of the first Earl of Jersey.  In
+1695 she married Lord George Hamilton (son of Lord William Douglas,
+afterwards Duke of Hamilton), who was raised to the peerage of Scotland
+in 1696 as Earl of Orkney.  William III. gave her an Irish estate worth
+£26,000 a year.  Swift’s opinion of her wisdom is confirmed by Lord
+Lansdowne, who speaks, in his _Progress of Poetry_, of
+
+    “Villiers, for wisdom and deep judgment famed,
+    Of a high race, victorious beauty brings
+    To grace our Courts, and captivate our Kings.”
+
+The “beauty” seems a poetic licence; Swift says the lady squinted “like a
+dragon.”
+
+{456c}  Cliefden.
+
+{456d}  See p. 106.
+
+{456e}  Swift’s sister (see p. 74).
+
+{457a}  Forster reads “returned.”
+
+{457b}  See Swift’s letter to General Hill of Aug. 12, 1712
+
+{457c}  Swift’s housekeeper at Laracor.
+
+{457d}  _I.e._, be made freemen of the City.
+
+{458}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Octr. 18.  At
+Portraune.”
+
+{459a}  “Sometimes, when better company was not to be had, he [Swift] was
+honoured by being invited to play at cards with his patron; and on such
+occasions Sir William was so generous as to give his antagonist a little
+silver to begin with” (Macaulay, _History of England_, chap. xix.).
+
+{459b}  _The History of the Works of the Learned_, a quarto periodical,
+was published from 1699 to 1711.
+
+{459c}  See p. 343.
+
+{459d}  See p. 277.
+
+{460a}  Lady Elizabeth Savage, daughter of Richard, fourth Earl Rivers
+(see p. 88), was the second wife of James Barry, fourth Earl of
+Barrymore.  Of Earl Rivers’ illegitimate children, one, Bessy, married
+(1) Frederick Nassau, third Earl of Rochford, and (2) a clergyman named
+Carter; while another, Richard Savage, was the poet.  Earl Rivers’
+successor, John Savage, the fifth Earl, was a Roman Catholic priest, the
+grandson of John, first Earl Rivers.  On his death in 1728 the title
+became extinct.
+
+{460b}  No. 32.
+
+{460c}  Very sick.
+
+{460d}  From “but I” to “agreeable” is partially obliterated.
+
+{460e}  Mrs. Swanton was the eldest daughter of Willoughby Swift, and
+therefore Swift’s second cousin.  In her will Esther Johnson left to
+Swift “a bond of thirty pounds, due to me by Dr. Russell, in trust for
+the use of Mrs. Honoria Swanton.”
+
+{460f}  This sentence is partially obliterated.
+
+{460g}  See p. 452.
+
+{461a}  See p. 25.
+
+{461b}  The latter half of this sentence is partially obliterated.
+
+{462a}  Partly obliterated.
+
+{462b}  See p. 54.
+
+{462c}  Wise.
+
+{462d}  Partly obliterated.
+
+{462e}  See p. 43.
+
+{462f}  This sentence is almost obliterated.
+
+{463a}  The MS. of this letter has not been preserved.
+
+{463b}  See p. 245.
+
+{463c}  Swift’s friend, Dr. Pratt (see p. 5), was then Provost of Trinity
+College, Dublin.
+
+{463d}  Samuel Molyneux, then aged twenty-three, was the son of William
+Molyneux (1656–1698), M.P. for Dublin University, a writer on
+philosophical and scientific subjects, and the friend of Locke.  Samuel
+Molyneux took his M.A. degree in Dublin in 1710, and in 1712 visited
+England.  He was befriended by the Duke of Marlborough at Antwerp, and in
+1714 was sent by the Duke on a mission to the Court of Hanover.  He held
+office under George I., but devoted most of his attention to astronomical
+research, until his death in 1728.
+
+{464a}  Probably _The Case of Ireland’s being bound by Acts of Parliament
+in England stated_ (1698).
+
+{464b}  Oxford and Bolingbroke.
+
+{464c}  See p. 360.
+
+{464d}  See p. 453.
+
+{464e}  George Ridpath (died 1726), a Whig journalist, of whom Pope
+(_Dunciad_, i. 208) wrote—
+
+                   “To Dulness Ridpath is as dear as Mist.”
+
+He edited the _Flying Post_ for some years, and also wrote for the
+_Medley_ in 1712.  In September William Hurt and Ridpath were arrested
+for libellous and seditious articles, but were released on bail.  On
+October 23 they appeared before the Court of Queen’s Bench, and were
+continued on their recognizances.  In February 1713 Ridpath was tried
+and, in spite of an able defence by leading Whig lawyers, was convicted.
+Sentence was postponed, and when Ridpath failed to appear, as ordered, in
+April, his recognizances were escheated, and a reward offered for his
+discovery; but he had fled to Scotland, and from thence to Holland.
+
+{466a}  See p. 456.
+
+{466b}  Lady Orkney’s sister, Barbara Villiers, who married John
+Berkeley, fourth Viscount Fitz-Hardinge, had been governess to the Duke
+of Gloucester, Queen Anne’s son.  She died in 1708, in her fifty-second
+year; and on her husband’s death four years later the peerage became
+extinct.
+
+{466c}  For the street criers, see the _Spectator_, No. 251.
+
+{466d}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley.”  Endorsed “Nov. 26, just come from
+Portraine”; and “The band-box plot—D: Hamilton’s murther.”
+
+{467a}  Charles Mohun, fifth Baron Mohun, had been twice arraigned of
+murder, but acquitted; and during his short but turbulent life he had
+taken part in many duels.  Even Burnet could say nothing in his favour.
+
+{467b}  This duel between the Duke of Hamilton (see p. 262) and Lord
+Mohun, who had married nieces of Lord Macclesfield, had its origin in a
+protracted dispute about some property.  The challenge came from Lord
+Mohun, and the combatants fought like “enraged lions.”  Tory writers
+suggested that the duel was a Whig conspiracy to get rid of the Duke of
+Hamilton (_Examiner_, Nov. 20, 1712).  The whole subject is discussed
+from the Whig point of view in Boyer’s _Political State_ for 1712, pp.
+297–326.
+
+{467c}  “Will” (MS.).
+
+{467d}  See p. 262, note 2.
+
+{467e}  George Maccartney (see pp. 89, 387) fought at Almanza,
+Malplaquet, and Douay.  After the duel, Maccartney escaped to Holland,
+but on the accession of George I. he returned to England, and was tried
+for murder (June 1716), when Colonel Hamilton gave evidence against him.
+Hamilton’s evidence was discredited, and he found it necessary to sell
+his commission and leave the country.  Maccartney was found guilty as an
+accessory, and “burnt” in the hand.  Within a month he was given an
+appointment in the army; and promoted to be Lieutenant-General.  He died
+in 1730.
+
+{467f}  Colonel John Hamilton, of the Scots Guards.  He surrendered
+himself, and was tried at the Old Bailey on Dec. 12, 1712, when he was
+found guilty of manslaughter, on two indictments; and on the following
+day he was “burnt” in the hand.  Hamilton died in October 1716, soon
+after Maccartney’s trial, from a sudden vomiting of blood.
+
+{467g}  “That” (MS.).
+
+{468a}  The story (as told in the Tory _Postboy_ of Nov. 11 to 13) was
+that on Nov. 4 a bandbox was sent to the Earl of Oxford by post. When he
+began to open it he saw a pistol, whereupon a gentleman present [Swift]
+asked for the box, and opening it, by the window, found powder, nails,
+etc., so arranged that, if opened in the ordinary way, the whole would
+have been fired, and two barrels discharged different ways.  No doubt a
+box so packed was received, but whether anything serious was intended, or
+whether it was a hoax, cannot be said with any certainty.  The Earl of
+Oxford is said to have met allusions to the subject with a smile, and
+Swift seems to have been annoyed at the reports which were put into
+circulation.
+
+{468b}  “We have received a more particular account relating to the box
+sent to the Lord Treasurer, as mentioned in our last, which is as
+follows,” etc.  (_Evening News_, Nov. 11 to 13, 1712).
+
+{468c}  Either _A Letter to the People_, _to be left for them at the
+Booksellers_, _with a word or two of the Bandbox Plot_ (by T. Burnet),
+1712, or _An Account of the Duel_ . . ., _with Previous Reflections on
+Sham Plots_ (by A. Boyer), 1712.  Swift’s connection with the Bandbox
+Plot was ridiculed in the _Flying Post_ for Nov. 20 to 22.
+
+{468d}  Cf. p. 154.
+
+{469a}  This sentence is partially obliterated.
+
+{469b}  Part of this sentence has been obliterated.
+
+{470a}  See p. 427.  I have not been able to find a copy of the paper
+containing Swift’s paragraph.
+
+{470b}  This sentence is partially obliterated.
+
+{471a}  See p. 104.
+
+{471b}  Apparently Humphrey Griffith, who was one of the Commissioners of
+Salt; but Swift gives the name as “Griffin” throughout.
+
+{471c}  See pp. 25, 461.
+
+{471d}  For these shorter letters Swift folded the folio sheet before
+writing.
+
+{472a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Decr. 18.”
+
+{472b}  Vengeance.
+
+{472c}  Charles Connor, scholar of Trinity College, Dublin, who took his
+B.A. degree in the same year as Swift (1686), and his M.A. degree in
+1691.
+
+{472d}  _The History of the Peace of Utrecht_.
+
+{473a}  See p. 467, note 6.
+
+{473b}  Lord Oxford’s daughter Elizabeth married, on Dec. 16, 1712,
+Peregrine Hyde, Marquis of Caermarthen, afterwards third Duke of Leeds
+(see pp. 226, 417).  She died on Nov. 20, 1713, a few days after the
+birth of a son.  Swift called her “a friend I extremely loved.”
+
+{473c}  “Is” (MS.).
+
+{473d}  Disorders.
+
+{473e}  See p. 335.
+
+{473f}  John Francis, Rector of St. Mary’s, Dublin, was made Dean of
+Leighlin in 1705.
+
+{473g}  See p. 67.
+
+{473h}  Possibly “have.”
+
+{473i}  See p. 468.
+
+{474}  This clause is omitted by Mr. Ryland.
+
+{475a}  See p. 304.
+
+{475b}  See p. 466.
+
+{475c}  Thomas Jones, Esq., was M.P. for Trim in the Parliament of
+1713–4.
+
+{476a}  A Dutch agent employed in the negotiations with Lewis XIV.
+
+{476b}  When I come home.
+
+{476c}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Jan. 13.”
+
+{477a}  “Ay, marry, this is something like.”  The earlier editions give,
+“How agreeable it is in a morning.”  The words in the MS. are partially
+obliterated.
+
+{477b}  In this letter (Dec. 20, 1712) Swift paid many compliments to the
+Duchess of Ormond (see p. 160): “All the accomplishments of your mind and
+person are so deeply printed in the heart, and represent you so lively to
+my imagination, that I should take it for a high affront if you believed
+it in the power of colours to refresh my memory.”
+
+{478a}  Tisdall’s _Conduct of the Dissenters in Ireland_ (see p. 517).
+
+{478b}  See pp. 73, 192–3.
+
+{478c}  Monteleon.
+
+{479a}  See pp. 7, 24.
+
+{479b}  Utrecht, North and South Holland, and West Frieseland.
+
+{479c}  See p. 439.
+
+{479d}  See p. 439.
+
+{479e}  _On Queen Anne’s Peace_.
+
+{479f}  See p. 422.  The poem was _Dryades_, _or the Nymph’s Prophecy_.
+
+{480a}  See p. 343.
+
+{480b}  See p. 159.
+
+{480c}  Dr. Tobias Pullen (1648–1713) was made Bishop of Dromore in 1695.
+
+{480d}  Lord Charles Douglas, Earl of Selkirk, died unmarried in 1739.
+When his father, William, first Earl of Selkirk, married Anne, Duchess of
+Hamilton, the Duchess obtained for her husband, in 1660, the title of
+Duke of Hamilton, for life.  James II. conferred the Earldom of Selkirk
+on his Grace’s second and younger sons, primogenitively; and the second
+son having died without issue, the third, Charles, became Earl.  The
+fifth son, George, was created Earl of Orkney (see p. 456).  The
+difference between Lord Selkirk and the Earl of Abercorn (see p. 86) to
+which Swift alludes was in connection with the claim to the Dukedom of
+Chatelherault (see p. 426).
+
+{481a}  Heart.
+
+{481b}  This sentence is almost illegible.
+
+{481c}  A reward of £500 was offered by the Crown for Maccartney’s
+apprehension, and £200 by the Duchess of Hamilton.
+
+{482}  In the proposed _History of the Peace of Utrecht_.
+
+{483a}  Mr. Ryland’s reading.  Forster has “Iss.”  These words are
+obliterated.
+
+{483b}  Hoist.  Cf. “Hoised up the mainsail” (Acts xxvii. 40).
+
+{483c}  It was afterwards found that Miss Ashe was suffering from
+smallpox.
+
+{484a}  See p. 101.  We are told in the _Wentworth Papers_, p. 268, that
+the Duchess of Shrewsbury remarked to Lady Oxford, “Madam, I and my Lord
+are so weary of talking politics; what are you and your Lord?” whereupon
+Lady Oxford sighed and said she knew no Lord but the Lord Jehovah.  The
+Duchess rejoined, “Oh, dear! Madam, who is that?  I believe ’tis one of
+the new titles, for I never heard of him before.”
+
+{484b}  A thousand merry new years.  The words are much obliterated.
+
+{484c}  Lady Anne Hamilton, daughter of James, first Duke of Hamilton,
+became Duchess on the death of her uncle William, the second Duke, at the
+battle of Worcester.
+
+{485a}  The quarrel between Oxford and Bolingbroke.
+
+{485b}  See p. 276.
+
+{485c}  Burnet (_History_, iv. 382) says that the Duc d’Aumont was “a
+goodnatured and generous man, of profuse expense, throwing handfuls of
+money often out of his coach as he went about the streets.  He was not
+thought a man of business, and seemed to employ himself chiefly in
+maintaining the dignity of his character and making himself acceptable to
+the nation.”
+
+{486a}  Partially obliterated.
+
+{486b}  For the most part illegible.  Forster reads, “Go, play cards, and
+be melly, deelest logues, and rove Pdfr.  Nite richar MD, FW oo roves
+Pdfr.  FW lele lele ME ME MD MD MD MD MD MD.  MD FW FW FW ME ME FW FW FW
+FW FW ME ME ME.”
+
+{486c}  On the third page of the paper.
+
+{486d}  See p. 44.
+
+{487a}  To “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Feb. 4.”
+
+{487b}  This sentence is scribbled over.  Forster reads the last word as
+“lastalls,” _i.e._ rascals, but it seems rather to be “ledles.”
+
+{488a}  Dr. Peter Brown was appointed Bishop of Cork in 1709.
+
+{488b}  See p. 26.
+
+{488c}  See p. 23.
+
+{489a}  See p. 24, note 4.
+
+{489b}  Dr. H. Humphreys, Bishop of Hereford, died on Nov. 20, 1712.  His
+successor was Dr. Philip Bisse (1667–1721), Bishop of St. David’s (see p.
+14).
+
+{490a}  Thomas Keightley, a Commissioner of the Great Seal in Ireland.
+
+{490b}  Nearly obliterated.  Mr. Ryland reads, “deelest MD.”
+
+{490c}  See p. 480.
+
+{490d}  In the _Examiner_ for Jan. 5 to 9, 1712[–13], there is an account
+of the game of Similitudes.  One person thinks of a subject, and the
+others, not knowing what it is, name similitudes, and when the subject is
+proclaimed, must make good the comparisons.  On the occasion described,
+the subject chosen was Faction.  The prize was given to a Dutchman, who
+argued that Faction was like butter, because too much fire spoiled its
+consistency.
+
+{490e}  Earl Poulett (see p. 190).
+
+{491a}  “Say” (MS.).
+
+{491b}  Dr. Pratt.
+
+{491c}  See p. 120.
+
+{492a}  This sentence is partially obliterated.
+
+{492b}  See pp. 305, 308.
+
+{493a}  Cf. the account of Beatrix’s feelings on the death of the Duke in
+_Esmond_, book iii. chaps. 6 and 7.
+
+{493b}  See p. 195.
+
+{494a}  “Her Majesty is all goodness and tenderness to her people and her
+Allies.  She has now prorogued the best Parliament that ever assembled in
+her reign and respited her own glory, and the wishes, prayers, and wants
+of her people, only to give some of her Allies an opportunity to think of
+the returns they owe her, and try if there be such a thing as gratitude,
+justice, or humanity in Europe.  The conduct of Her Majesty is without
+parallel.  Never was so great a condescension made to the unreasonable
+clamours of an insolent faction now dwindled to the most contemptible
+circumstances.”—_Examiner_, Jan. 12–16, 1712[–13].
+
+{494b}  _Mr. Collins’s Discourse of Freethinking_, _put into plain
+English by way of Abstract_, _for the use of the Poor_, an ironical
+pamphlet on Arthur Collins’s _Discourse of Freethinking_, 1713.
+
+{495a}  _The History of the Peace of Utrecht_.
+
+{495b}  A line here has been erased.  Forster imagined that he read,
+“Nite dear MD, drowsy drowsy dear.”
+
+{496a}  Hereford.
+
+{496b}  Very well.
+
+{497a}  Sentence obliterated.  Forster professes to read, “Pay can oo
+walk oftener—oftener still?”
+
+{497b}  See p. 480.
+
+{497c}  Dr. Bisse, translated from St. David’s.
+
+{497d}  See pp. 176, 489.
+
+{498a}  To “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Febr. 26.”
+
+{498b}  See p. 494.
+
+{498c}  See p. 271.
+
+{498d}  See p. 468.
+
+{499a}  A result of confusion between Erasmus Lewis and Henry Lewis, a
+Hamburg merchant.  See Swift’s paper in the _Examiner_ of Jan. 30 to Feb.
+2, reprinted in his _Works_ under the title, “A Complete Refutation of
+the Falsehoods alleged against Erasmus Lewis, Esq.”
+
+{499b}  Lord Dupplin (see p. 30) had been created Baron Hay in December
+1711.
+
+{499c}  A composition of inflammable materials.
+
+{500a}  Assessors.
+
+{500b}  See p. 36.
+
+{501}  See p. 499.
+
+{502a}  See p. 439.
+
+{502b}  See pp. 10, 381, 413.
+
+{503a}  Dr. Bisse.
+
+{503b}  See p. 326.
+
+{503c}  Forster reads, “something.”
+
+{503d}  Hardly legible.
+
+{504a}  See p. 52.
+
+{504b}  Stella’s brother-in-law (See pp. 471, 473).
+
+{504c}  Forster guesses, “Oo are so ’recise; not to oor health.”
+
+{504d}  For “poo Ppt’s.”  Mr. Ryland reads, “people’s.”
+
+{505a}  See p. 478.
+
+{505b}  See p. 483.
+
+{505c}  See p. 132.
+
+{505d}  Obliterated; Forster’s reading.
+
+{506a}  Writing in October 1713, Lord Berkeley of Stratton told Lord
+Strafford of “a fine prank of the widow Lady Jersey” (see p. 281).  “It
+is well known her lord died much in debt, and she, after taking upon her
+the administration, sold everything and made what money she could, and is
+run away into France without paying a farthing of the debts, with only
+one servant and unknown to all her friends, and hath taken her youngest
+son, as ’tis supposed to make herself a merit in breeding him a papist.
+My Lord Bolingbroke sent after her, but too late, and they say the Queen
+hath writ a letter with her own hand to the King of France to send back
+the boy” (_Wentworth Papers_, p. 357).  See also p. 538 below.  I am not
+sure whether in the present passage Swift is referring to the widow or
+the younger Lady Jersey (see p. 326).
+
+{506b}  Sir Thomas Clarges, Bart. (died 1759), M.P. for Lostwithiel,
+married Barbara, youngest daughter of John Berkeley, fourth Viscount
+Fitz-Hardinge, and of Barbara Villiers (see p. 466), daughter of Sir
+Edward Villiers.
+
+{507a}  See pp. 428, 447.
+
+{507b}  Altered from “11” in the MS.  It is not certain where the error
+in the dates began; but the entry of the 6th must be correctly dated,
+because the Feb. 6 was the Queen’s Birthday.
+
+{507c}  See pp. 422, 479.
+
+{508a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Mar. 7.”
+
+{508b}  See p. 27.
+
+{508c}  Sedan chairs were then comparatively novel (see Gay’s _Trivia_).
+
+{508d}  Some words obliterated.  Forster reads, “Nite MD, My own deelest
+MD.”
+
+{509a}  Peter Wentworth wrote to Lord Strafford, on Feb. 17, 1713, “Poor
+Mr. Harrison is very much lamented; he died last Saturday.  Dr. Swift
+told me that he had told him . . . he owed about £300, and the Queen owed
+him £500, and that if you or some of your people could send an account of
+his debts, that I might give it to him, he would undertake to solicit
+Lord Treasurer and get this £500, and give the remainder to his mother
+and sister” (_Wentworth Papers_, 320).
+
+{509b}  George St. John (eldest son of Sir Harry St. John by his second
+marriage) was Secretary to the English Plenipotentiaries at Utrecht.  He
+died at Venice in 1716 (Lady Cowper’s _Diary_, 65).
+
+{509c}  Forster wrongly reads, “poor.”
+
+{509d}  “Putt” (MS.).
+
+{509e}  See p. 506.
+
+{510a}  Montagu Bertie, second Earl of Abingdon (died 1743), was a strong
+Tory.
+
+{510b}  See p. 102.  These friends were together again on an expedition
+to Bath in 1715, when Jervas wrote to Pope (Aug. 12, 1715) that
+Arbuthnot, Disney, and he were to meet at Hyde Park Corner, proceed to
+Mr. Hill’s at Egham, meet Pope next day, and then go to Lord Stawell’s to
+lodge the night.  Lord Stawell’s seat, Aldermaston, was seventeen miles
+from Binfield.
+
+{510c}  See p. 153.
+
+{510d}  “I” (MS.).
+
+{510e}  Obliterated.  Forster reads, “devil,” and Mr. Ryland, “bitch.”
+
+{511a}  See p. 393.
+
+{511b}  Victor Marie, duc d’Estrées, Marshal of France (died 1727).
+
+{511c}  See 471.
+
+{511d}  Several words are obliterated.  Forster reads, “the last word,
+God ’give me”; but “’give me” is certainly wrong.
+
+{512}  See p. 69.  Sir Thomas Hanmer married, in 1698, at the age of
+twenty-two, Isabella, Dowager Duchess of Grafton, daughter of Henry, Earl
+of Arlington, and Countess of Arlington in her own right.  Hanmer was not
+made Secretary of State, but he succeeded Bromley as Speaker of the House
+of Commons.
+
+{513a}  William Fitzmaurice (see pp. 91, 263) entered Christ Church,
+Oxford, matriculating on March 10, 1712–13, at the age of eighteen.
+
+{513b}  See p. 89.
+
+{513c}  William Bromley, second son of Bromley the Speaker (see p. 76),
+was a boy of fourteen at this time.  In 1727 he was elected M.P. for
+Warwick, and he died in 1737, shortly after being elected Member for
+Oxford University.
+
+{513d}  See 133.
+
+{513e}  Sometimes “list” means to border or edge; at others, to sew
+together, so as to make a variegated display, or to form a border.
+Probably it here means the curling of the bottom of the wig.
+
+{513f}  The last eight words have been much obliterated, and the reading
+is doubtful.
+
+{514a}  Lady Henrietta Hyde, second daughter of Laurence Hyde, first Earl
+of Rochester (see p. 60), married James Scott, Earl of Dalkeith, son of
+the Duke of Monmouth.  Lord Dalkeith died in 1705, leaving a son, who
+succeeded his grandmother (Monmouth’s widow) as second Duke of Buccleuch.
+Lady Catherine Hyde (see p. 293) was a younger sister of Lady Dalkeith.
+
+{514b}  Swift first wrote “I frequent.”
+
+{515a}  See p. 456.
+
+{515b}  D’Estrées.
+
+{515c}  Little (almost illegible).
+
+{516a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Mar. 27.”
+
+{516b}  See p. 10.
+
+{516c}  Formerly Lady Rialton (see p. 392).
+
+{517a}  See p. 490.
+
+{517b}  See pp. 95, 405.
+
+{517c}  Pun on “gambol.”
+
+{517d}  See p. 478.
+
+{518a}  See p. 401.
+
+{518b}  “Upon Tuesday last, the house where His Grace the late Duke of
+Hamilton and Brandon lived was hired for that day, where there was a fine
+ball and entertainment; and it is reported in town, that a great lady,
+lately gone to travel, left one hundred guineas, with orders that it
+should be spent in that manner, and in that house” (_Postboy_, Feb.
+26–28, 1712–13).  The “great lady” was, presumably, the Duchess of
+Marlborough.
+
+{518c}  See pp. 357, 397.
+
+{518d}  Trinity College, Dublin.
+
+{518e}  See p. 512.
+
+{518f}  See p. 357.
+
+{519a}  Dr. Pratt, Provost of Trinity College.
+
+{519b}  Obliterated, and doubtful.
+
+{519c}  A deal at cards, that draws the whole tricks.
+
+{520}  Previous editors have misread “Trevor” as “Treasurer.” Thomas
+Trevor, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas, was created Baron Trevor, of
+Bromham, in January 1712.  By commission of March 9, 1713, he occupied
+the woolsack during the illness of the Lord Keeper, Harcourt.
+
+{521a}  This is the only reference to Pope in the _Journal_.  In his
+_Windsor Forest_ the young poet assisted the Tories by his reference to
+the peace of Utrecht, then awaiting ratification.
+
+{521b}  Several words have been obliterated.  Forster reads, “Rove Pdfr,
+poo Pdfr, Nite MD MD MD,” but this is more than the space would contain.
+
+{522a}  William Oldisworth (1680–1734), a Tory journalist and
+pamphleteer, who published various works, including a translation of the
+_Iliad_.  He died in a debtors’ prison.
+
+{522b}  Some words obliterated.  The reading is Forster’s, and seems to
+be correct.
+
+{523a}  Susan Armine, elder daughter of Sir William Armine, Bart., of
+Osgodby, Lincolnshire, was created a life peeress in 1674, as Baroness
+Belasyse of Osgodby.  She died March 6, 1713.  Her first husband was the
+Honourable Sir Henry Belasyse, son and heir of John, Baron Belasyse, of
+Worlaby; and her second, Mr. Fortney, of Chequers.
+
+{523b}  See p. 48.
+
+{524a}  A word before “Ppt” is illegible.  Forster’s reading, “yes,” does
+not seem right.
+
+{524b}  In November 1711 it was reported that Miss Kingdom was privately
+married to Lord Conway (_Wentworth Papers_, 207), but this was not the
+case.  Lord Conway was a widower in 1713, but he married an Irish lady
+named Bowden.
+
+{525a}  Forster reads, “Nite, my own dee sollahs.  Pdfr roves MD”; but
+the last three words, at least, do not seem to be in the MS.
+
+{525b}  Probably the Bishop of Raphoe’s son (see p. 289).
+
+{526a}  What.
+
+{526b}  As Master of the Savoy.
+
+{526c}  William Burgh was Comptroller and Accountant-General for Ireland
+from 1694 to 1717, when his patent was revoked.  He was succeeded by
+Eustace Budgell.
+
+{526d}  William Paget, sixth Lord Paget, died in March 1713, aged
+seventy-six.  He spent a great part of his life as Ambassador at Vienna
+and Constantinople.
+
+{526e}  Pocket.
+
+{526f}  Forster reads, “Lele lele logues”; Mr. Ryland, “Lele lele . . . ”
+
+{527a}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Apr. 13.”
+
+{527b}  Esther Johnson’s brother-in-law, Filby (see p. 471).
+
+{527c}  Earl Poulett (see p. 190).
+
+{527d}  Francis Annesley, M.P. for Westbury.  His colleague in the
+representation of that borough was Henry Bertie (third son of James, Earl
+of Abingdon), who married Earl Poulett’s sister-in-law, Anthony Henley’s
+widow (see p. 117).
+
+{528a}  “Has” (MS.).
+
+{528b}  A dozen words are erased.  The reading is Forster’s, and appears
+to be correct.
+
+{528c}  _The British Ambassadress’s Speech to the French King_.  The
+printer was sent to the pillory and fined.
+
+{528d}  The _Examiner_ (vol. iii. No. 35) said that Swift—“a gentleman of
+the first character for learning, good sense, wit, and more virtues than
+even they can set off and illustrate”—was not the author of that
+periodical.  “Out of pure regard to justice, I strip myself of all the
+honour that lucky untruth did this paper.”
+
+{529a}  A purgative electuary.
+
+{529b}  Bargains.
+
+{529c}  Three or four words illegible.  Forster reads, “Nite, nite, own
+MD.”
+
+{530a}  Forster reads, “devil’s brood”; probably the second word is
+“bawd:” Cf. p. 510.
+
+{530b}  Several “moving pictures,” mostly brought from Germany, were on
+view in London at about this time.  See _Tatler_, No. 129, and Gay’s
+_Fables_, No. 6.
+
+{531a}  See p. 43.
+
+{531b}  “Mr. Charles Grattan, afterwards master of a free school at
+Enniskillen” (Scott).
+
+{531c}  So given in the MS.  Forster suggests that it is a mistake for
+“wood.”
+
+{532a}  See p. 271.
+
+{532b}  It is probable that this is Pope’s friend, William Cleland, who
+died in 1741, aged sixty-seven.  William Cleland served in Spain under
+Lord Rivers, but was not a Colonel, though he seems to have been a Major.
+Afterwards he was a Commissioner of Customs in Scotland and a
+Commissioner of the Land Tax in England.  Colonel Cleland cannot, as
+Scott suggested (Swift’s _Works_, iii. 142, xviii. 137–39, xix. 8), have
+been the son of the Colonel William Cleland, Covenanter and poet, who
+died in 1689, at the age of twenty-eight.  William Cleland allowed his
+name to be appended to a letter of Pope’s prefixed to the _Dunciad_, and
+Pope afterwards described him as “a person of universal learning, and an
+enlarged conversation; no man had a warmer heart for his friends, or a
+sincerer attachment to the constitution of his country.”  Swift,
+referring to this letter, wrote to Pope, “Pray tell me whether your
+Colonel (_sic_) Cleland be a tall Scots gentleman, walking perpetually in
+the Mall, and fastening upon everybody he meets, as he has often done
+upon me?” (Pope’s _Works_, iv. 48, vii. 214).
+
+{532c}  Henry Grey, Lord Lucas (died 1741), who became twelfth Earl of
+Kent in 1702, was made Duke of Kent in 1710.  He held various offices
+under George I. and George II.
+
+{533a}  Forster found, among the MSS. at Narford, the “lie” thus prepared
+for All Fools’ Day.  Richard Noble, an attorney, ran away with a lady who
+was the wife of John Sayer and daughter of Admiral Nevill; and he killed
+Sayer on the discovery of the intrigue.  The incident was made use of by
+Hogarth in the fifth scene of “Marriage a la Mode.”
+
+{533b}  See p. 23.
+
+{533c}  See p. 100.
+
+{533d}  Charles XII.
+
+{533e}  “Is” (MS.).
+
+{533f}  Cibber says that he saw four acts of _Cato_ in 1703; the fifth
+act, according to Steele, was written in less than a week.  The famous
+first performance was on April 14, 1713.
+
+{533g}  The first number of the _Guardian_ appeared on March 12, and the
+paper was published daily until Oct. 1, 1713.  Pope, Addison, and
+Berkeley were among the contributors.
+
+{534a}  See p. 456.
+
+{534b}  See p. 389.
+
+{534c}  The first preached after the period of his suspension by the
+House of Lords.  It was delivered at St. Saviour’s, Southwark, before his
+installation at St. Andrew’s, and was published with the title, _The
+Christian’s Triumph_, _or the Duty of praying for our Enemies_.
+
+{535a}  Swift’s curate at Laracor.
+
+{535b}  Richard Gorges (died 1728) was eldest son and heir of Dr. Robert
+Gorges, of Kilbrue, County Meath, by Jane, daughter of Sir Arthur Loftus,
+and sister of Adam, Viscount Lisburne.  He was appointed Adjutant-General
+of the Forces in Ireland 1697, Colonel of a new Regiment of Foot 1703,
+Major-General of the Forces 1707, and Lieutenant-General 1710 (Dalton’s
+_Army Lists_, iii. 75).
+
+{536a}  See p. 510.
+
+{536b}  Mrs. Oldfield.
+
+{536c}  See p. 473.
+
+{536d}  Never saw the like.
+
+{536e}  See p. 460.
+
+{537a}  The remainder has been partially obliterated.
+
+{537b}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “May 4.”
+
+{538a}  Lord Cholmondeley (see p. 357).
+
+{538b}  Harcourt.
+
+{538c}  Forster’s reading; the last two words are doubtful.
+
+{538d}  See p. 52.
+
+{538e}  Francis Palmes, who was wounded at Blenheim, was made a
+Lieutenant-General in 1709.  In 1707 he was elected M.P. for West Loo; in
+1708 he was sent as Envoy Extraordinary to the Duke of Savoy, and in 1710
+to Vienna.
+
+{538f}  Apparently “so heed.”
+
+{538g}  Henry Villiers (died 1743), second son of the first Earl of
+Jersey and of Barbara, daughter of William Chiffinch (see p. 281).
+
+{539a}  See p. 520.  The Speech and Address are in the Commons’ Journals,
+xvii. 278, 280.  For the draft Address, in Swift’s handwriting, see the
+Portland Papers (1899), v. 276.
+
+{539b}  Scoffed, jeered.
+
+{539c}  Dr. Gastrell (see p. 238).
+
+{540}  George Berkeley, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne, but then a young man
+of twenty-eight, came to London in January 1713.  He was already known by
+his _New Theory of Vision_ and _Treatise on the Principles of Human
+Knowledge_, and he brought with him his _Three Dialogues between Hylas
+and Philonous_.  Steele was among the first to welcome him, and he soon
+made the acquaintance of Addison, Pope, and Swift.  On March 27, Berkeley
+wrote to Sir John Perceval of the breach between Swift and the Whigs:
+“Dr. Swift’s wit is admired by both of them [Addison and Steele], and
+indeed by his greatest enemies, and . . .  I think him one of the
+best-matured and agreeable men in the world.”  In November 1713 Swift
+procured for Berkeley the chaplaincy and secretaryship to Lord
+Peterborough, the new Envoy to Sicily.
+
+{541}  Forster reads, “all oo sawcy Ppt can say oo may see me”; but the
+words are illegible.
+
+{542a}  Possibly “see,” written in mistake for “say.”
+
+{542b}  “J” (MS.).
+
+{544a}  Obliterated.  Forster imagined that he read, “Nite dee logues.
+Poo Mr.”
+
+{544b}  There were two General Hamiltons at this time; probably Swift’s
+acquaintance was Gustavus Hamilton (1639–1723), who was created Viscount
+Boyne in 1717.  Hamilton distinguished himself at the battle of the Boyne
+and the capture of Athlone, and was made Brigadier-General in 1696, and
+Major General in 1703.  He took part in the siege of Vigo, and was made a
+member of the Privy Council in 1710.
+
+{545a}  See p. 427.
+
+{545b}  _The History of the Peace of Utrecht_.
+
+{545c}  This is Forster’s reading, and appears to be correct.  The last
+word, which he gives as “iss truly,” is illegible.
+
+{545d}  Belonging to Ireland.
+
+{545e}  See p. 391.
+
+{545f}  Another excellent reading of Forster’s.  I cannot decipher the
+last word, which he gives as “dee rogues.”
+
+{546a}  Sentence obliterated.
+
+{546b}  The number at the beginning of each entry in the _Journal_.
+
+{546c}  Mr. Ryland’s reading.  Forster has “morning, dee.”
+
+{546d}  Dr. Thomas Lindsay (see p. 43).
+
+{546e}  I think the “MD” is right, though Forster gives “M.”  The “Pr” is
+probably an abbreviation of “Pdfr.”
+
+{547a}  The last three lines have been obliterated.
+
+{547b}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “May 22.”
+
+{548a}  Illegible.  Forster reads, “and dee deelest Ppt.”
+
+{548b}  The last few words have been partially obliterated.
+
+{548c}  Am very angry.  The last word is scribbled over.
+
+{548d}  _The History of the Peace of Utrecht_.
+
+{549a}  The signature has been cut off.
+
+{549b}  Addressed to “Mrs. Dingley,” etc.  Endorsed “Chester Letter.”
+
+{549c}  “Others” (MS.).
+
+{550a}  See pp. 86, 301.
+
+{550b}  See p. 46.
+
+
+
+
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