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.