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.