LETTER 10.
LONDON, Nov. 25, 1710.
I will tell you something that's plaguy silly: I had forgot to say on the 23d
in my last, where I dined; and because I had done it constantly, I thought it
was a great omission, and was going to interline it; but at last the silliness
of it made me cry, Pshah, and I let it alone. I was to-day to see the
Parliament meet; but only saw a great crowd; and Ford and I went to see the
tombs at Westminster, and sauntered so long I was forced to go to an eating-
house for my dinner. Bromley[1] is chosen Speaker, nemine contradicente: Do
you understand those two words? And Pompey, Colonel Hill's[2] black, designs
to stand Speaker for the footmen.[3] I am engaged to use my interest for him,
and have spoken to Patrick to get him some votes. We are now all impatient
for the Queen's speech, what she will say about removing the Ministry, etc. I
have got a cold, and I don't know how; but got it I have, and am hoarse: I
don't know whether it will grow better or worse. What's that to you? I
won't answer your letter to-night. I'll keep you a little longer in suspense:
I can't send it. Your mother's cakes are very good, and one of them serves me
for a breakfast, and so I'll go sleep like a good boy.
26. I have got a cruel cold, and stayed within all this day in my nightgown,
and dined on sixpennyworth of victuals, and read and writ, and was denied to
everybody. Dr. Raymond[4] called often, and I was denied; and at last, when I
was weary, I let him come up, and asked him, without consequence, how Patrick
denied me, and whether he had the art of it? So by this means he shall be
used to have me denied to him; otherwise he would be a plaguy trouble and
hindrance to me: he has sat with me two hours, and drank a pint of ale cost
me fivepence, and smoked his pipe, and it is now past eleven that he is just
gone. Well, my eighth is with you now, young women; and your seventh to me is
somewhere in a post-boy's bag; and so go to your gang of deans, and Stoytes,
and Walls, and lose your money; go, sauceboxes: and so good-night, and be
happy, dear rogues. Oh, but your box was sent to Dr. Hawkshaw by Sterne, and
you will have it with Hawkshaw, and spectacles, etc., etc.
27. To-day Mr. Harley met me in the Court of Requests,[5] and whispered me to
dine with him. At dinner I told him what those bishops had done, and the
difficulty I was under. He bid me never trouble myself; he would tell the
Duke of Ormond the business was done, and that he need not concern himself
about it. So now I am easy, and they may hang themselves for a parcel of
insolent, ungrateful rascals. I suppose I told you in my last, how they sent
an address to the Duke of Ormond, and a letter to Southwell, to call on me for
the papers, after the thing was over; but they had not received my letter,
though the Archbishop might, by what I writ to him, have expected it would be
done. Well, there is an end of that; and in a little time the Queen will send
them notice, etc. And so the methods will be settled; and then I shall think
of returning, although the baseness of those bishops makes me love Ireland
less than I did.
28. Lord Halifax sent to invite me to dinner; where I stayed till six, and
crossed him in all his Whig talk, and made him often come over to me. I know
he makes court to the new men, although he affects to talk like a Whig. I had
a letter to-day from the Bishop of Clogher; but I writ to him lately, that I
would obey his commands to the Duke of Ormond. He says I bid him read the
London "Shaver," and that you both swore it was "Shaver," and not "Shower."[6]
You all lie, and you are puppies, and can't read Presto's hand. The Bishop is
out entirely in his conjectures of my share in the Tatlers.--I have other
things to mind, and of much greater importance;[7] else I have little to do to
be acquainted with a new Ministry, who consider me a little more than Irish
bishops do.
29. Now for your saucy, good dear letter: let me see, what does it say? come
then. I dined to-day with Ford, and went home early; he debauched[8] me to
his chamber again with a bottle of wine till twelve: so good-night. I cannot
write an answer now, you rogues.
30. To-day I have been visiting, which I had long neglected; and I dined with
Mrs. Barton alone; and sauntered at the Coffee-house till past eight, and have
been busy till eleven, and now I'll answer your letter, saucebox. Well, let
me see now again. My wax candle's almost out, but however I'll begin. Well
then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto; what can you say to MD's letter? Make
haste, have done with your preambles--Why, I say I am glad you are so often
abroad; your mother thinks it is want of exercise hurts you, and so do I.
(She called here to-night, but I was not within, that's by the bye.) Sure you
do not deceive me, Stella, when you say you are in better health than you were
these three weeks; for Dr. Raymond told me yesterday, that Smyth of the Blind
Quay had been telling Mr. Leigh that he left you extremely ill; and in short,
spoke so, that he almost put poor Leigh into tears, and would have made me run
distracted; though your letter is dated the 11th instant, and I saw Smyth in
the city above a fortnight ago, as I passed by in a coach. Pray, pray, don't
write, Stella, until you are mighty, mighty, mighty, mighty well in your eyes,
and are sure it won't do you the least hurt. Or come, I'll tell you what;
you, Mistress Stella, shall write your share at five or six sittings, one
sitting a day; and then comes Dingley all together, and then Stella a little
crumb towards the end, to let us see she remembers Presto; and then conclude
with something handsome and genteel, as your most humblecumdumble, or, etc. O
Lord! does Patrick write word of my not coming till spring? Insolent man! he
know my secrets? No; as my Lord Mayor said, No; if I thought my shirt knew,
etc. Faith, I will come as soon as it is any way proper for me to come; but,
to say the truth, I am at present a little involved with the present Ministry
in some certain things (which I tell you as a secret); and soon as ever I can
clear my hands, I will stay no longer; for I hope the First-Fruit business
will be soon over in all its forms. But, to say the truth, the present
Ministry have a difficult task, and want me, etc. Perhaps they may be just as
grateful as others: but, according to the best judgment I have, they are
pursuing the true interest of the public; and therefore I am glad to
contribute what is in my power. For God's sake, not a word of this to any
alive.--Your Chancellor?[9] Why, madam, I can tell you he has been dead this
fortnight. Faith, I could hardly forbear our little language about a nasty
dead Chancellor, as you may see by the blot.[10] Ploughing? A pox plough
them; they'll plough me to nothing. But have you got your money, both the ten
pounds? How durst he pay you the second so soon? Pray be good huswifes.
Ay, well, and Joe, why, I had a letter lately from Joe, desiring I would take
some care of their poor town,[11] who, he says, will lose their liberties. To
which I desired Dr. Raymond would return answer, that the town had behaved
themselves so ill to me, so little regarded the advice I gave them, and
disagreed so much among themselves, that I was resolved never to have more to
do with them; but that whatever personal kindness I could do to Joe, should be
done. Pray, when you happen to see Joe, tell him this, lest Raymond should
have blundered or forgotten--Poor Mrs. Wesley!--Why these poligyes[12] for
being abroad? Why should you be at home at all, until Stella is quite well?--
So, here is Mistress Stella again, with her two eggs, etc. My "Shower"
admired with you; why, the Bishop of Clogher says, he has seen something of
mine of the same sort, better than the "Shower." I suppose he means "The
Morning";[13] but it is not half so good. I want your judgment of things, and
not your country's. How does MD like it? and do they taste it ALL? etc. I am
glad Dean Bolton[14] has paid the twenty pounds. Why should not I chide the
Bishop of Clogher for writing to the Archbishop of Cashel,[15] without sending
the letter first to me? It does not signify a ----; for he has no credit at
Court. Stuff--they are all puppies. I will break your head in good earnest,
young woman, for your nasty jest about Mrs. Barton.[16] Unlucky sluttikin,
what a word is there! Faith, I was thinking yesterday, when I was with her,
whether she could break them or no, and it quite spoilt my imagination. "Mrs.
Walls, does Stella win as she pretends?" "No indeed, Doctor; she loses
always, and will play so VENTERSOMELY, how can she win?" See here now; an't
you an impudent lying slut? Do, open Domville's letter; what does it signify,
if you have a mind? Yes, faith, you write smartly with your eyes shut; all
was well but the _n_. See how I can do it; MADAM STELLA, YOUR HUMBLE
SERVANT.[17] O, but one may look whether one goes crooked or no, and so write
on. I will tell you what you may do; you may write with your eyes half shut,
just as when one is going to sleep: I have done so for two or three lines
now; it is but just seeing enough to go straight.--Now, Madam Dingley, I think
I bid you tell Mr. Walls that, in case there be occasion, I will serve his
friend as far as I can; but I hope there will be none. Yet I believe you will
have a new Parliament; but I care not whether you have or no a better. You
are mistaken in all your conjectures about the Tatlers. I have given him one
or two hints, and you have heard me talk about the Shilling.[18] Faith, these
answering letters are very long ones: you have taken up almost the room of a
week in journals; and I will tell you what, I saw fellows wearing crosses to-
day,[19] and I wondered what was the matter; but just this minute I recollect
it is little Presto's birthday; and I was resolved these three days to
remember it when it came, but could not. Pray, drink my health to-day at
dinner; do, you rogues. Do you like "Sid Hamet's Rod"? Do you understand it
all? Well, now at last I have done with your letter, and so I will lay me
down to sleep, and about, fair maids; and I hope merry maids all.
Dec. 1. Morning. I wish Smyth were hanged. I was dreaming the most
melancholy things in the world of poor Stella, and was grieving and crying all
night.--Pshah, it is foolish: I will rise and divert myself; so good-morrow;
and God of His infinite mercy keep and protect you! The Bishop of Clogher's
letter is dated Nov. 21. He says you thought of going with him to Clogher. I
am heartily glad of it, and wish you would ride there, and Dingley go in a
coach. I have had no fit since my first, although sometimes my head is not
quite in good order.--At night. I was this morning to visit Mr. Pratt, who is
come over with poor, sick Lord Shelburne: they made me dine with them; and
there I stayed, like a booby, till eight, looking over them at ombre, and then
came home. Lord Shelburne's giddiness is turned into a colic, and he looks
miserably.
2. Steele, the rogue, has done the imprudentest thing in the world: he said
something in a Tatler,[20] that we ought to use the word Great Britain, and
not England, in common conversation, as, "The finest lady in Great Britain,"
etc. Upon this, Rowe, Prior, and I sent him a letter, turning this into
ridicule. He has to-day printed the letter,[21] and signed it J.S., M.P., and
N.R., the first letters of all our names. Congreve told me to-day, he smoked
it immediately. Congreve and I, and Sir Charles Wager, dined to-day at
Delaval's, the Portugal Envoy; and I stayed there till eight, and came home,
and am now writing to you before I do business, because that dog Patrick is
not at home, and the fire is not made, and I am not in my gear. Pox take
him!--I was looking by chance at the top of this side, and find I make plaguy
mistakes in words; so that you must fence against that as well as bad writing.
Faith, I can't nor won't read what I have written. (Pox of this puppy!) Well,
I'll leave you till I am got to bed, and then I will say a word or two.--Well,
'tis now almost twelve, and I have been busy ever since, by a fire too (I have
my coals by half a bushel at a time, I'll assure you), and now I am got to
bed. Well, and what have you to say to Presto now he is abed? Come now, let
us hear your speeches. No, 'tis a lie; I an't sleepy yet. Let us sit up a
little longer, and talk. Well, where have you been to-day, that you are but
just this minute come home in a coach? What have you lost? Pay the coachman,
Stella. No, faith, not I, he'll grumble.--What new acquaintance have you got?
come, let us hear. I have made Delaval promise to send me some Brazil tobacco
from Portugal for you, Madam Dingley. I hope you will have your chocolate and
spectacles before this comes to you.
3. Pshaw, I must be writing to these dear saucy brats every night, whether I
will or no, let me have what business I will, or come home ever so late, or be
ever so sleepy; but an old saying, and a true one,
"Be you lords, or be you earls,
You must write to naughty girls."
I was to-day at Court, and saw Raymond among the Beefeaters, staying to see
the Queen: so I put him in a better station, made two or three dozen of bows,
and went to church, and then to Court again, to pick up a dinner, as I did
with Sir John Stanley; and then we went to visit Lord Mountjoy, and just now
left him; and 'tis near eleven at night, young women; and methinks this letter
comes pretty near to the bottom, and 'tis but eight days since the date, and
don't think I'll write on the other side, I thank you for nothing. Faith, if
I would use you to letters on sheets as broad as this room, you would always
expect them from me. O, faith, I know you well enough; but an old saying,
etc.,
"Two sides in a sheet,
And one in a street."
I think that's but a silly old saying; and so I'll go to sleep, and do you so
too.
4. I dined to-day with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and then came home, and studied till
eleven. No adventure at all to-day.
5. So I went to the Court of Requests (we have had the Devil and all of rain
by the bye) to pick up a dinner; and Henley made me go dine with him and one
Colonel Bragg[22] at a tavern; cost me money, faith. Congreve was to be
there, but came not. I came with Henley to the Coffee-house, where Lord
Salisbury[23] seemed mighty desirous to talk with me; and, while he was
wriggling himself into my favour, that dog Henley asked me aloud, whether I
would go to see Lord Somers as I had promised (which was a lie); and all to
vex poor Lord Salisbury, who is a high Tory. He played two or three other
such tricks; and I was forced to leave my lord, and I came home at seven, and
have been writing ever since, and will now go to bed. The other day I saw
Jack Temple[24] in the Court of Requests: it was the first time of seeing
him; so we talked two or three careless words, and parted. Is it true that
your Recorder and Mayor, and fanatic aldermen, a month or two ago, at a solemn
feast, drank Mr. Harley's, Lord Rochester's,[25] and other Tory healths? Let
me know; it was confidently said here.--The scoundrels! It shan't do, Tom.
6. When is this letter to go, I wonder? harkee, young women, tell me that.
Saturday next for certain, and not before: then it will be just a fortnight;
time enough for naughty girls, and long enough for two letters, faith.
Congreve and Delaval have at last prevailed on Sir Godfrey Kneller to entreat
me to let him draw my picture for nothing; but I know not yet when I shall
sit.[26]--It is such monstrous rainy weather, that there is no doing with it.
Secretary St. John sent to me this morning, that my dining with him to-day was
put off till to-morrow; so I peaceably sat with my neighbour Ford, dined with
him, and came home at six, and am now in bed as usual; and now it is time to
have another letter from MD, yet I would not have it till this goes; for that
would look like two letters for one. Is it not whimsical that the Dean has
never once written to me? And I find the Archbishop very silent to that
letter I sent him with an account that the business was done. I believe he
knows not what to write or say; and I have since written twice to him, both
times with a vengeance.[27] Well, go to bed, sirrahs, and so will I. But
have you lost to-day? Three shillings! O fie, O fie!
7. No, I won't send this letter to-day, nor till Saturday, faith; and I am so
afraid of one from MD between this and that; if it comes, I will just say I
received a letter, and that is all. I dined to-day with Mr. Secretary St.
John, where were Lord Anglesea,[28] Sir Thomas Hanmer, Prior, Freind, etc.,
and then made a debauch after nine at Prior's house, and have eaten cold pie,
and I hate the thoughts of it, and I am full, and I don't like it, and I will
go to bed, and it is late, and so good-night.
8. To-day I dined with Mr. Harley and Prior; but Mr. St. John did not come,
though he promised: he chid me for not seeing him oftener. Here is a damned,
libellous pamphlet come out against Lord Wharton, giving the character first,
and then telling some of his actions: the character is very well, but the
facts indifferent.[29] It has been sent by dozens to several gentlemen's
lodgings, and I had one or two of them; but nobody knows the author or
printer. We are terribly afraid of the plague; they say it is at
Newcastle.[30] I begged Mr. Harley for the love of God to take some care
about it, or we are all ruined. There have been orders for all ships from the
Baltic to pass their quarantine before they land; but they neglect it. You
remember I have been afraid these two years.
9. O, faith, you are a saucy rogue. I have had your sixth letter just now,
before this is gone; but I will not answer a word of it, only that I never was
giddy since my first fit; but I have had a cold just a fortnight, and cough
with it still morning and evening; but it will go off. It is, however, such
abominable weather that no creature can walk. They say here three of your
Commissioners will be turned out, Ogle, South, and St. Quintin;[31] and that
Dick Stewart[32] and Ludlow will be two of the new ones. I am a little
soliciting for another: it is poor Lord Abercorn,[33] but that is a secret; I
mean, that I befriend him is a secret; but I believe it is too late, by his
own fault and ill fortune. I dined with him to-day. I am heartily sorry you
do not go to Clogher, faith, I am; and so God Almighty protect poor, dear,
dear, dear, dearest MD. Farewell till to-night. I'll begin my eleventh to-
night; so I am always writing to little MD.
