KENSINGTON, _June_ 17, 1712.
I HAVE been so tosticated about since my last, that I could not go on in
my journal manner, though my shoulder is a great deal better; however, I
feel constant pain in it, but I think it diminishes, and I have cut off
some slices from my flannel. I have lodged here near a fortnight, partly
for the air and exercise, partly to be near the Court, where dinners are
to be found. I generally get a lift in a coach to town, and in the
evening I walk back. On Saturday I dined with the Duchess of Ormond at
her lodge near Sheen, and thought to get a boat back as usual. I walked
by the bank to Cue [Kew], but no boat, then to Mortlake, but no boat, and
it was nine o’clock. At last a little sculler called, full of nasty
people. I made him set me down at Hammersmith, so walked two miles to
this place, and got here by eleven. Last night I had another such
difficulty. I was in the City till past ten at night; it rained hard,
but no coach to be had. It gave over a little, and I walked all the way
here, and got home by twelve. I love these shabby difficulties when they
are over; but I hate them, because they arise from not having a thousand
pound a year. I had your N. 30 about three days ago, which I will now
answer. And first, I did not relapse, but found {443a} I came out before
I ought; and so, and so, as I have told you in some of my last. The
first coming abroad made people think I was quite recovered, and I had no
more messages afterwards. Well, but _John Bull_ is not writ by the
person you imagine, as hope! {443b} It is too good for another to own.
Had it been Grub Street, I would have let people think as they please;
and I think that’s right: is not it now? so flap ee hand, and make wry
mouth oo-self, sauci doxi. Now comes DD. Why sollah, I did write in a
fortnight my 47th; and if it did not come in due time, can I help wind
and weather? am I a Laplander? am I a witch? can I work miracles? can I
make easterly winds? Now I am against Dr. Smith. I drink little water
with my wine, yet I believe he is right. Yet Dr. Cockburn told me a
little wine would not hurt me; but it is so hot and dry, and water is so
dangerous. The worst thing here is my evenings at Lord Masham’s, where
Lord Treasurer comes, and we sit till after twelve. But it is convenient
I should be among them for a while as much as possible. I need not tell
oo why. But I hope that will be at an end in a month or two, one way or
other, and I am resolved it shall. But I can’t go to Tunbridge, or
anywhere else out of the way, in this juncture. So Ppt designs for
Templeoag (what a name is that!). Whereabouts is that place? I hope not
very far from Dublin. Higgins is here, roaring that all is wrong in
Ireland, and would have me get him an audience of Lord Treasurer to tell
him so; but I will have nothing to do in it, no, not I, faith. We have
had no thunder till last night, and till then we were dead for want of
rain; but there fell a great deal: no field looked green. I reckon the
Queen will go to Windsor in three or four weeks: and if the Secretary
takes a house there, I shall be sometimes with him. But how affectedly
Ppt talks of my being here all the summer; which I do not intend: nor to
stay one minute longer in England than becomes the circumstances I am in.
I wish you would go soon into the country, and take a good deal of it;
and where better than Trim? Joe will be your humble servant, Parvisol
your slave, and Raymond at your command, for he piques himself on good
manners. I have seen Dilly’s wife—and I have seen once or twice old
Bradley {444a} here. He is very well, very old, and very wise: I believe
I must go see his wife, when I have leisure. I should be glad to see
Goody Stoyte and her husband; pray give them my humble service, and to
Catherine, and to Mrs. Walls—I am not the least bit in love with Mrs.
Walls—I suppose the cares of the husband increase with the fruitfulness
of the wife. I am grad at halt {444b} to hear of Ppt’s good health: pray
let her finish it by drinking waters. I hope DD had her bill, and has
her money. Remember to write a due time before ME money is wanted, and
be good galls, dood dallars, I mean, and no crying dallars. I heard
somebody coming upstairs, and forgot I was in the country; and I was
afraid of a visitor: that is one advantage of being here, that I am not
teased with solicitors. Molt, the chemist, is my acquaintance. My
service to Dr. Smith. I sent the question to him about Sir Walter
Raleigh’s cordial, and the answer he returned is in these words: “It is
directly after Mr. Boyle’s receipt.” That commission is performed; if he
wants any of it, Molt shall use him fairly. I suppose Smith is one of
your physicians. So, now your letter is fully and impartially answered;
not as rascals answer me: I believe, if I writ an essay upon a straw, I
should have a shoal of answerers: but no matter for that; you see I can
answer without making any reflections, as becomes men of learning. Well,
but now for the peace: why, we expect it daily; but the French have the
staff in their own hands, and we trust to their honesty. I wish it were
otherwise. Things are now in the way of being soon in the extremes of
well or ill. I hope and believe the first. Lord Wharton is gone out of
town in a rage, and curses himself and friends for ruining themselves in
defending Lord Marlborough and Godolphin, and taking Nottingham into
their favour. He swears he will meddle no more during this reign; a
pretty speech at sixty-six, and the Queen is near twenty years younger,
and now in very good health; for you must know her health is fixed by a
certain reason, that she has done with braces (I must use the
expression), and nothing ill is happened to her since; so she has a new
lease of her life. Read the _Letter to a Whig Lord_. {445a} Do you ever
read? Why don’t you say so? I mean does DD read to Ppt? Do you walk?
I think Ppt should walk to {445b} DD; as DD reads to Ppt, for Ppt oo must
know is a good walker; but not so good as Pdfr. I intend to dine to-day
with Mr. Lewis, but it threatens rain; and I shall be too late to get a
lift; and I must write to the Bishop of Clogher. ’Tis now ten in the
morning; and this is all writ at a heat. Farewell deelest . . . deelest
MD, MD, MD, MD, MD, FW, FW, FW, ME, ME, ME, Lele, ME, Lele, ME, Lele, ME,
Lele, Lele, Lele, ME.