The Journal to Stella by Jonathan Swift

3. A fine day this, and I walked a pretty deal. I stuffed the Secretary’s pockets with papers, which he must read and settle at Hampton Court, where he went to−day, and stays some time. They have no lodgings for me there, so I can’t go, for the town is small, chargeable, and inconvenient. Lord Treasurer had a very ill night last night, with much pain in his knee and foot, but is easier to−day.And so I went to visit Prior about some business, and so he was not within, and so Sir Andrew Fountaine made me dine to−day again with Mrs. Van, and I came home soon, remembering this must go to−night, and that I had a letter of MD’s to answer. O Lord, where is it? let me see; so, so, here it is. You grudge writing so soon. Pox on that bill! the woman would have me manage that money for her. I do not know what to do with it now I have it: I am like the unprofitable steward in the Gospel: I laid it up in a napkin; there thou hast what is thine own, etc. Well, well, I know of your new Mayor. (I’ll tell you a pun: a fishmonger owed a man two crowns; so he sent him a piece of bad ling LETTER 33.

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and a tench, and then said he was paid: how is that now? find it out; for I won’t tell it you: which of you finds it out?) Well, but as I was saying, what care I for your Mayor? I fancy Ford may tell Forbes right about my returning to Ireland before Christmas, or soon after. I’m sorry you did not go on with your story about Pray God you be John; I never heard it in my life, and wonder what it can be.Ah, Stella, faith, you leaned upon your Bible to think what to say when you writ that. Yes, that story of the Secretary’s making me an example is true; “never heard it before;” why, how could you hear it? is it possible to tell you the hundredth part of what passes in our companies here? The Secretary is as easy with me as Mr. Addison was. I have often thought what a splutter Sir William Temple makes about being Secretary of State:[11] I think Mr. St. John the greatest young man I ever knew; wit, capacity, beauty, quickness of apprehension, good learning, and an excellent taste; the best orator in the House of Commons, admirable conversation, good nature, and good manners; generous, and a despiser of money. His only fault is talking to his friends in way of complaint of too great a load of business, which looks a little like affectation; and he endeavours too much to mix the fine gentleman and man of pleasure with the man of business. What truth and sincerity he may have I know not: he is now but thirty−two, and has been Secretary above a year. Is not all this extraordinary? how he stands with the Queen and Lord Treasurer I have told you before. This is his character; and I believe you will be diverted by knowing it. I writ to the Archbishop of Dublin, Bishop of Cloyne[12] and of Clogher together, five weeks ago from Windsor: I hope they had my letters; pray know if Clogher had his.Fig for your physician and his advice, Madam Dingley: if I grow worse, I will; otherwise I will trust to temperance and exercise: your fall of the leaf; what care I when the leaves fall? I am sorry to see them fall with all my heart; but why should I take physic because leaves fall off from trees? that won’t hinder them from falling. If a man falls from a horse, must I take physic for that?This arguing makes you mad; but it is true right reason, not to be disproved.I am glad at heart to hear poor Stella is better; use exercise and walk, spend pattens and spare potions, wear out clogs and waste claret. Have you found out my pun of the fishmonger? don’t read a word more till you have got it. And Stella is handsome again, you say? and is she fat? I have sent to Leigh the set of Examiners: the first thirteen were written by several hands, some good, some bad; the next three−and−thirty were all by one hand, that makes forty−six: then that author,[13] whoever he was, laid it down on purpose to confound guessers; and the last six were written by a woman.[14] Then there is an account of Guiscard by the same woman, but the facts sent by Presto. Then an answer to the letter to the Lords about Gregg by Presto; Prior’s Journey by Presto; Vindication of the Duke of Marlborough, entirely by the same woman; Comment on Hare’s Sermon by the same woman, only hints sent to the printer from Presto to give her.[15] Then there’s the Miscellany, an apron for Stella, a pound of chocolate, without sugar, for Stella, a fine snuff−rasp of ivory, given me by Mrs. St. John for Dingley, and a large roll of tobacco, which she must hide or cut shorter out of modesty, and four pair of spectacles for the Lord knows who. There’s the cargo, I hope it will come safe. Oh, Mrs. Masham and I are very well; we write to one another, but it is upon business; I believe I told you so before: pray pardon my forgetfulness in these cases; poor Presto can’t help it.

MD shall have the money as soon as Tooke gets it. And so I think I have answered all, and the paper is out, and now I have fetched up my week, and will send you another this day fortnight.Why, you rogues, two crowns make TENCH−ILL−LING:[16] you are so dull you could never have found it out. Farewell, etc. etc.

LETTER 34.

LONDON, Nov. 3, 1711.

My thirty−third lies now before me just finished, and I am going to seal and send it, so let me know whether you would have me add anything: I gave you my journal of this day; and it is now nine at night, and I am going to be busy for an hour or two.

4. I left a friend’s house to−day where I was invited, just when dinner was setting on, and pretended I was engaged, because I saw some fellows I did not know; and went to Sir Matthew Dudley’s, where I had the same inconvenience, but he would not let me go; otherwise I would have gone home, and sent for a slice of LETTER 34.

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mutton and a pot of ale, rather than dine with persons unknown, as bad, for aught I know, as your deans, parsons, and curates. Bad slabby weather to−day.Now methinks I write at ease, when I have no letter of MD’s to answer. But I mistook, and have got the large paper. The Queen is laid up with the gout at Hampton Court: she is now seldom without it any long time together; I fear it will wear her out in a very few years. I plainly find I have less twitchings about my toes since these Ministers are sick and out of town, and that I don’t dine with them. I would compound for a light easy gout to be perfectly well in my head.Pray walk when the frost comes, young ladies go a frost−biting. It comes into my head, that, from the very time you first went to Ireland, I have been always plying you to walk and read. The young fellows here have begun a kind of fashion to walk, and many of them have got swingeing strong shoes on purpose; it has got as far as several young lords; if it hold, it would be a very good thing. Lady Lucy[1] and I are fallen out; she rails at me, and I have left visiting her.

5. MD was very troublesome to me last night in my sleep; I was a dreamed, methought, that Stella was here. I asked her after Dingley, and she said she had left her in Ireland, because she designed her stay to be short, and such stuff.Monsieur Pontchartain, the Secretary of State in France, and Monsieur Fontenelle, the Secretary of the Royal Academy there (who writ the Dialogues des Morts, etc.), have sent letters to Lord Pembroke that the Academy have, with the King’s consent, chosen him one of their members in the room of one who is lately dead. But the cautious gentleman has given me the letters to show my Lord Dartmouth and Mr. St. John, our two Secretaries, and let them see there is no treason in them; which I will do on Wednesday, when they come from Hampton Court. The letters are very handsome, and it is a very great mark of honour and distinction to Lord Pembroke. I hear the two French Ministers are come over again about the peace; but I have seen nobody of consequence to know the truth. I dined to−day with a lady of my acquaintance, who was sick, in her bed−chamber, upon three herrings and a chicken: the dinner was my bespeaking. We begin now to have chestnuts and Seville oranges; have you the latter yet? ‘Twas a terrible windy day, and we had processions in carts of the Pope and the Devil, and the butchers rang their cleavers. You know this is the Fifth of November, Popery and gunpowder.

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