What, is not Mrs. Walls’ business over yet? I had hopes she was up and well, and the child dead before this time.You did right, at last, to send me your accompts; but I did not stay for them, I thank you. I hope you have your bill sent in my last, and there will be eight pounds’ interest soon due from Hawkshaw: pray look at his bond. I hope you are good managers; and that, when I say so, Stella won’t think I intend she should grudge herself wine. But going to those expensive lodgings requires some fund. I wish you had stayed till I came over, for some reasons. That Frenchwoman[16] will be grumbling again in a little time: and if you are invited anywhere to the country, it will vex you to pay in absence; and the country may be necessary for poor Stella’s health: but do as you like, and do not blame Presto.Oh, but you are telling your reasons.Well, I have read them; do as you please. Yes, Raymond says he must stay longer than he thought, because he cannot settle his affairs. M is in the country at some friend’s, comes to town in spring, and then goes to settle in Herefordshire. Her husband is a surly, ill−natured brute, and cares not she should see anybody. O
Lord, see how I blundered, and left two lines short; it was that ugly score in the paper[17] that made me mistake.I believe you lie about the story of the fire, only to make it more odd. Bernage must go to Spain; and I will see to recommend him to the Duke of Argyle, his General, when I see the Duke next: but the officers tell me it would be dishonourable in the last degree for him to sell now, and he would never be preferred in the army; so that, unless he designs to leave it for good and all, he must go. Tell him so, and that I would write if I knew where to direct to him; which I have said fourscore times already. I had rather anything almost than that you should strain yourselves to send a letter when it is inconvenient; we have settled that matter already. I’ll write when I can, and so shall MD; and upon occasions extraordinary I will LETTER 15.
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write, though it be a line; and when we have not letters soon, we agree that all things are well; and so that’s settled for ever, and so hold your tongue.− −Well, you shall have your pins; but for candles’ ends, I cannot promise, because I burn them to the stumps; besides, I remember what Stella told Dingley about them many years ago, and she may think the same thing of me. And Dingley shall have her hinged spectacles.Poor dear Stella, how durst you write those two lines by candlelight? bang your bones! Faith, this letter shall go to−morrow, I think, and that will be in ten days from the last, young women; that’s too soon of all conscience: but answering yours has filled it up so quick, and I do not design to use you to three pages in folio, no, nooooh. All this is one morning’s work in bed;and so good−morrow, little sirrahs; that’s for the rhyme.[18]
You want politics: faith, I can’t think of any; but may be at night I may tell you a passage. Come, sit off the bed, and let me rise, will you?At night. I dined to−day with my neighbour Vanhomrigh; it was such dismal weather I could not stir further. I have had some threatenings with my head, but no fits. I still drink Dr.
Radcliffe’s[19] bitter, and will continue it.
10. I was this morning to see the Secretary of State, and have engaged him to give a memorial from me to the Duke of Argyle in behalf of Bernage. The Duke is a man that distinguishes people of merit, and I will speak to him myself; but the Secretary backing it will be very effectual, and I will take care to have it done to purpose. Pray tell Bernage so, and that I think nothing can be luckier for him, and that I would have him go by all means. I will order it that the Duke shall send for him when they are in Spain; or, if he fails, that he shall receive him kindly when he goes to wait on him. Can I do more? Is not this a great deal?I now send away this letter, that you may not stay.I dined with Ford upon his Opera−day, and am now come home, and am going to study; do not you presume to guess, sirrahs, impudent saucy dear boxes. Towards the end of a letter I could not say saucy boxes without putting dear between. An’t that right now? Farewell. THIS should BE longer, BUT that _I_ send IT to−night.[20]
O silly, silly loggerhead!
I send a letter this post to one Mr. Staunton, and I direct it to Mr. Acton’s in St. Michael’s Lane. He formerly lodged there, but he has not told me where to direct. Pray send to that Acton, whether[21] the letter is come there, and whether he has sent it to Staunton.
If Bernage designs to sell his commission and stay at home, pray let him tell me so, that my recommendation to the Duke of Argyle may not be in vain.
LETTER 16.
LONDON, Feb. 10, 1710−11.
I have just despatched my fifteenth to the post; I tell you how things will be, after I have got a letter from MD. I am in furious haste to finish mine, for fear of having two of MD’s to answer in one of Presto’s, which would be such a disgrace, never saw the like; but, before you write to me, I write at my leisure, like a gentleman, a little every day, just to let you know how matters go, and so and so; and I hope before this comes to you, you’ll have got your box and chocolate, and Presto will take more care another time.
11. Morning. I must rise and go see my Lord Keeper,[1] which will cost me two shillings in coach−hire.
Don’t you call them two thirteens?[2]At night. It has rained all day, and there was no walking. I read prayers to Sir Andrew Fountaine in the forenoon, and I dined with three Irishmen, at one Mr. Cope’s[3] lodgings; the other two were one Morris an archdeacon,[4] and Mr. Ford. When I came home this evening, I expected that little jackanapes Harrison would have come to get help about his Tatler for Tuesday: I have fixed two evenings in the week which I allow him to come. The toad never came, and I expecting him fell a reading, and left off other business.Come, what are you doing? How do you pass your time this ugly weather?
LETTER 16.
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Gaming and drinking, I suppose: fine diversions for young ladies, truly! I wish you had some of our Seville oranges, and we some of your wine. We have the finest oranges for twopence apiece, and the basest wine for six shillings a bottle. They tell me wine grows cheap with you. I am resolved to have half a hogshead when I get to Ireland, if it be good and cheap, as it used to be; and I will treat MD at my table in an evening, oh hoa, and laugh at great Ministers of State.
12. The days are grown fine and long, − be thanked. O, faith, you forget all our little sayings, and I am angry. I dined to−day with Mr. Secretary St. John: I went to the Court of Requests at noon, and sent Mr.
Harley into the House to call the Secretary, to let him know I would not dine with him if he dined late. By good luck the Duke of Argyle was at the lobby of the House too, and I kept him in talk till the Secretary came out; then told them I was glad to meet them together, and that I had a request to the Duke, which the Secretary must second, and his Grace must grant. The Duke said he was sure it was something insignificant, and wished it was ten times greater. At the Secretary’s house I writ a memorial, and gave it to the Secretary to give the Duke, and shall see that he does it. It is, that his Grace will please to take Mr. Bernage into his protection; and if he finds Bernage answers my character, to give him all encouragement. Colonel Masham[5]
and Colonel Hill[6] (Mrs. Masham’s[7] brother tell me my request is reasonable, and they will second it heartily to the Duke too: so I reckon Bernage is on a very good foot when he goes to Spain. Pray tell him this, though perhaps I will write to him before he goes; yet where shall I direct? for I suppose he has left Connolly’s.[8]