LETTER 49.[1]
KENSINGTON, July 1, 1712.
I never was in a worse station for writing letters than this, especially for
writing to MD, since I left off my journals. For I go to town early; and when
I come home at night, I generally go to Lord Masham, where Lord Treasurer
comes, and we stay till past twelve. But I am now resolved to write journals
again, though my shoulder is not yet well; for I have still a few itching
pimples, and a little pain now and then. It is now high cherry-time with us;
take notice, is it so soon with you? And we have early apricots, and
gooseberries are ripe. On Sunday Archdeacon Parnell came here to see me. It
seems he has been ill for grief of his wife's death,[2] and has been two
months at the Bath. He has a mind to go to Dunkirk with Jack Hill,[3] and I
persuade him to it, and have spoke to Hill to receive him; but I doubt he
won't have spirit to go. I have made Ford[4] Gazetteer, and got two hundred
pounds a year settled on the employment by the Secretary of State, beside the
perquisites. It is the prettiest employment in England of its bigness; yet
the puppy does not seem satisfied with it. I think people keep some follies
to themselves, till they have occasion to produce them. He thinks it not
genteel enough, and makes twenty difficulties. 'Tis impossible to make any
man easy. His salary is paid him every week, if he pleases, without taxes or
abatements. He has little to do for it. He has a pretty office, with coals,
candles, papers, etc.; can frank what letters he will; and his perquisites, if
he takes care, may be worth one hundred pounds more. I hear the Bishop of
Clogher is landing, or landed, in England; and I hope to see him in a few
days. I was to see Mrs. Bradley[5] on Sunday night. Her youngest son is
married to somebody worth nothing, and her daughter was forced to leave Lady
Giffard, because she was striking up an intrigue with a footman, who played
well upon the flute. This is the mother's account of it. Yesterday the old
Bishop of Worcester,[6] who pretends to be a prophet, went to the Queen, by
appointment, to prove to Her Majesty, out of Daniel and the Revelations, that
four years hence there would be a war of religion; that the King of France
would be a Protestant, and fight on their side; that the Popedom would be
destroyed, etc.; and declared that he would be content to give up his
bishopric if it were not true. Lord Treasurer, who told it me, was by, and
some others; and I am told Lord Treasurer confounded him sadly in his own
learning, which made the old fool very quarrelsome. He is near ninety years
old. Old Bradley is fat and lusty, and has lost his palsy. Have you seen
Toland's Invitation to Dismal?[7] How do you like it? But it is an imitation
of Horace, and perhaps you don't understand Horace. Here has been a great
sweep of employments, and we expect still more removals. The Court seems
resolved to make thorough work. Mr. Hill intended to set out to-morrow for
Dunkirk, of which he is appointed Governor; but he tells me to-day that he
cannot go till Thursday or Friday. I wish it were over. Mr. Secretary tells
me he is [in] no fear at all that France will play tricks with us. If we have
Dunkirk once, all is safe. We rail now all against the Dutch, who, indeed,
have acted like knaves, fools, and madmen. Mr. Secretary is soon to be made a
viscount. He desired I would draw the preamble of his patent; but I excused
myself from a work that might lose me a great deal of reputation, and get me
very little. We would fain have the Court make him an earl, but it would not
be; and therefore he will not take the title of Bullenbrook,[8] which is
lately extinct in the elder branch of his family. I have advised him to be
called Lord Pomfret; but he thinks that title is already in some other
family;[9] and, besides, he objects that it is in Yorkshire, where he has no
estate; but there is nothing in that, and I love Pomfret. Don't you love
Pomfret? Why? 'Tis in all our histories; they are full of Pomfret Castle.
But what's all this to you? You don't care for this. Is Goody Stoyte come to
London? I have not heard of her yet. The Dean of St. Patrick's never had the
manners to answer my letter. I was t'other day to see Sterne[10] and his
wife. She is not half so handsome as when I saw her with you at Dublin. They
design to pass the summer at a house near Lord Somers's, about a dozen miles
off. You never told me how my "Letter to Lord Treasurer" passes in Ireland.
I suppose you are drinking at this time Temple-something's[11] waters. Steele
was arrested the other day for making a lottery directly against an Act of
Parliament. He is now under prosecution; but they think it will be dropped
out of pity.[12] I believe he will very soon lose his employment, for he has
been mighty impertinent of late in his Spectators; and I will never offer a
word in his behalf. Raymond writes me word that the Bishop of Meath[13] was
going to summon me, in order to suspension, for absence, if the Provost had
not prevented him. I am prettily rewarded for getting them their First-
Fruits, with a p--. We have had very little hot weather during the whole
month of June; and for a week past we have had a great deal of rain, though
not every day. I am just now told that the Governor of Dunkirk has not orders
yet to deliver up the town to Jack Hill and his forces, but expects them
daily. This must put off Hill's journey a while, and I don't like these
stoppings in such an affair. Go, get oo gone, and drink oo waters, if this
rain has not spoiled them, sauci doxi. I have no more to say to oo at
plesent; but rove Pdfr, and MD, and ME. And Podefr will rove Pdfr, and MD and
ME. I wish you had taken any account when I sent money to Mrs. Brent. I
believe I han't done it a great while. And pray send me notice when ME . . .
to have it when it is due.[14] Farewell, dearest MD FW FW FW ME ME ME.
