cold this wet weather, if I sit an evening in my room after coming from warm places: and I must make much of myself, because MD is not here to take care of Presto; and I am full of business, writing, &c. and do not care for the coffeehouse; and so this serves for all together, not to tell it you over and over, as silly people do ; but Presto is a wiser man, faith, than so, let me tell you, gentlewomen. See I am got to the third side; but, faith, I will not do that often but I must say something early to-day, till the letter is done, and on Saturday it shall go; so I must save something till to-morrow, till to-morrow and next day.

10. O Lord, I would this letter was with you with all my heart if it should miscarry, what a deal would be lost? I forgot to leave a gap in the last line but one for the seal, like a puppy; but I should have allowed for night, good night: but when I am taking leave, I cannot leave a bit, faith; but I fancy the seal will not come there. I dined to-day at Lady Lucy's, where they ran down my Shower; and said Sid Hamet was the silliest poem they ever read, and told Prior so, whom they thought to be the author of it. Do not you wonder I never dined there before? But I am too busy, and they live too far off; and besides, I do not like women so much as I did. [MD you must know, are not women.] I supped to-night at Addison's with Garth, Steele, and Mr Dopping; and am come home late. Lewis has sent to me to desire I will dine with some company I shall like. I suppose it is Mr Secretary St John's appointment. I had a letter just now from Raymond, who is at Bristol, and says he will be at London in a fortnight, and leave his wife behind him; and desires any lodging in the house where I am: but that must not be. I shall

not know what to do with him in town: to be sure I will not present him to any acquaintance of mine, and he will live a delicate life, a parson and a perfect stranger. Paaast twelvvve o'clock, and so good night, &c. O! but I forgot, Jemmy Leigh is come to town ; says he has brought Dingley's things, and will send them by the first convenience. My parcel, I hear, is not sent yet. He thinks of going for Ireland in a month, &c. I cannot write to-morrow, because—what, because of the archbishop; because I will seal my letter early; because I am engaged from noon till night; because of many kind of things; and yet I will write one or two words to-morrow morning, to keep up my journal constant, and at night I will begin the ninth.

11. Morning, by candle-light. You must know that I am in my night-gown every morning betwixt six and seven, and Patrick is forced to ply me fifty times before I can get on my night-gown; and so now I will take my leave of my own dear MD, for this letter, and begin my next when I come home at night. God Almighty bless and protect dearest MD. Farewell, &c.

This letter's as long as a sermon, faith.

LETTER IX.

London, Nov. 11, 1710.

I DINED to-day, by invitation, with the Secretary of State Mr St John. Mr Harley came in to us before dinner, and made me his excuses for not dining with us, because he was to receive people who came to pro

*

pose advancing money to the government: there dined with us only Mr Lewis, and Dr Freind, that writ Lord Peterborow's actions in Spain. I said with them till just now, between ten and eleven, and was forced again to give my eighth to the bellman, which I did with my own hands, rather than keep it till next post. The secretary used me with all the kindness in the world. Prior came in after dinner; and upon an occasion, he (the secretary) said, the best thing he ever read is not yours, but Dr Swift's on Vanbrugh; which I do not reckon so very good neither. But Prior was damped until I stuffed him with two or three compliments. † I am thinking what a veneration we used to have for Sir William Temple, because he might have been secretary of state at fifty; and here is a young fellow, hardly thirty, in that employment. His father is a man of pleasure, that walks the Mall, and frequents St James's

* Dr John Freind, a celebrated physician and philosopher. He was born in 1675, and attended the Earl of Peterborough in his Spanish expedition in 1705. When that gallant general was calumniated on his return to Britain, Dr Freind wrote an account of his conduct, in which he defended his great actions with a spirit similar to that which had dictated them. Being a steady Tory, he took a share in the defence of Sacheverel. In 1722 he was member of Parliament for Launceston, and falling under the suspicion of government at that dangerous period, was committed to the Tower. On the accession of George II., Dr Freind came into favour with the court, and died physician to the queen in 1728. He wrote a History of Physic, and other medical treatises.

+ Prior's writings, however, evince less disposition to literary jealousy than those of any author of the age.

‡ Indeed he had held the post of secretary of war three years before, but resigned with Harley in 1707.

Coffeehouse, and the chocolatehouses, and the young son is principal secretary of state. Is there not some

you

thing very odd in that? He told me, among other things, that Mr Harley complained he could keep nothing from me, I had the way so much of getting into him. I knew that was a refinement; and so I told him, and it was so indeed it is hard to see these great men use me like one who was their betters, and the puppies with in Ireland hardly regarding me but there are some reasons for all this, which I will tell you when we meet. At coming home I saw a letter from your mother, in answer to one I sent her two days ago. It seems she is in town; but cannot come out in a morning, just as you said, and God knows when I shall be at leisure in an afternoon for if I should send her a penny-post letter, and afterward not be able to meet her, it would vex me; and, besides, the days are short, and why she cannot come early in a morning before she is wanted, I cannot imagine. I will desire her to let Lady Giffard know that she hears I am in town, and that she would go to see me to inquire after you. I wonder she will confine herself so much to that old beast's humour. You know I cannot in honour see Lady Giffard, and consequently not go into her house. This I think is enough for the first time.

12. And how could you write with such thin paper? (I forgot to say this in my former.) Cannot you get thicker? Why, that is a common caution that writing

*Sir Henry St John, father of the statesman, seems to have continued a gay man to the end of his life. In his youth he was tried and convicted for the murder of Sir William Estcourt, in

a rencountre.

masters give their scholars; you must have heard it a hundred times.

It is this,

If paper be thin,

Ink will slip in ;

But if it be thick,

You may write with a stick.

I had a letter to-day from poor Mrs Long, giving me an account of her present life, obscure in a remote country town, † and how easy she is under it. Poor creature! it is just such an alteration in life, as if Presto should be banished from MD, and condemned to converse with Mrs Raymond. I dined to-day with Ford, Sir Richard Levinge, &c. at a place where they board hard by. I was lazy, and not very well, sitting so long with company yesterday. I have been very busy writing this evening at home, and had a fire: I am spending my second half bushel of coals; and now am in bed, and it is late.

13. I dined to-day in the city, and then went to christen Will Frankland's child; and Lady Falconbridge was one of the godmothers: this is a daughter

* Swift delighted to let his pen run into such rhymes as those, which he generally passes off as old proverbs. They are examples of the almost childish ease with which his Journal was thrown off. + She was then at Lynn, in Norfolk.

Lord Fauconberg, or Falconbridge, a gentleman of hereditary loyalty, found himself notwithstanding, during the usurpations, glad to marry the Protector's youngest daughter, Mary Cromwell. She is represented as a woman of high talent and spirit, and died 14th March 1712. A nobleman, who had seen Cromwell's remains dug up after the Restoration, venturing to tell her jeeringly that he had seen her father, and that he stunk abominably, she answered, "He was dead, my lord-had he been living, you would VOL. II.

F