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[26] at them every night, and drank a
pint of brandy at mornings.--Oh then, you kept Presto's little birthday:[27]
would to God I had been with you! I forgot it, as I told you before.
REdiculous, madam? I suppose you mean rIdiculous: let me have no more of
that; 'tis the author of the Atalantis's[28] 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.[29] 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?[30] Very well. Why, would they have me stand here and preach to
them? No, the Tatler of the Shilling[31] 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,[32] 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.[33] 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,[34] 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,[35] 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;[36] 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.[37]--Pox on your convocations, and your Lamberts;[38]
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[39] 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,[40] 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[41] 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.[42]
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,[43] and that Ingoldsby[44] reprieved that
part of it of standing before the statue. I hope it was never executed. We
have got your Broderick out;[45] Doyne[46] is to succeed him, and Cox[47]
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;[48] 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.[49] 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 goodnight, etc.
19. I am come down proud stomach in one instance, for I went to-day to see
the Duke of Buckingham,[50] but came too late: then I visited Mrs.
Barton,[51] 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;[52] 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,[53] 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[54] 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![55]
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,[56] 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[57] 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[58] and daughter;[59] at
five my Lord Keeper[60] 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;[61] 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 12.
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[1] comes up to me, and the man went off:
as I went out I saw him again, and recollected him, it was Vedeau[2] 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[3] told me the bad news from Spain,[4] 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[5]
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.[6] 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;[7] the latter sends me a melancholy account of Lady
Shelburne's[8] 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 tomorrow, 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[9] was of the company, and we sat till six; and I came
home to my new lodgings in St. Albans Street,[10] 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[11] 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[12] 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----.[13] 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.[14] 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[15] 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[16]
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,[17] 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,[18] 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[19] 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.[20] 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,[21] 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.[22] "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.[23] 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,[24] 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?[25] 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 13.
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.[1] 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[2] 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[3] 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[4] 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,[5] 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?[6] 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.[7] 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[8] 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[9] sets out to-morrow for Ireland: I
never saw him. He carries over one Trapp[10] 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[11] 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[12] 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.[13] 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[14] came to visit Mrs. St. John,[15] 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;[16] 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[17] 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,[18] 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,[19] 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;[20] 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[21] 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.[22] 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;[23] 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.[24] I am undone! It
was made by a Leicester lad, who married Mr. Worrall's daughter, where my
mother lodged;[25] so I thought it would be cheap, and especially since he
lives in the city. Well, London lickpenny:[26] 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.
