conversed with none but you and your club of deans and Stoytes.  ’Tis three weeks, young women, since I had a letter from you; and yet, methinks, I would not have another for five pounds till this is gone; and yet I send every day to the Coffee-house, and I would fain have a letter, and not have a letter:  and I do not know what, nor I do not know how, and this goes on very slow; it is a week to-morrow since I began it.  I am a poor country gentleman, and do not know how the world passes.  Do you know that every syllable I write I hold my lips just for all the world as if I were talking in our own little language to MD?  Faith, I am very silly; but I cannot help it for my life.  I got home early to-night.  My solicitors, that used to ply me every morning, knew not where to find me; and I am so happy not to hear “Patrick, Patrick,” called a hundred times every morning.  But I looked backward, and find I have said this before.  What care I?  Go to the Dean, and roast the oranges.

5.  I dined to-day with my friend Lewis, and we were deep in politics how to save the present Ministry; for I am afraid of Mr. Secretary, as I believe I told you.  I went in the evening to see Mr. Harley; and, upon my word, I was in perfect joy.  Mr. Secretary was just going out of the door; but I made him come back, and there was the old Saturday Club, Lord Keeper, Lord Rivers, Mr. Secretary, Mr. Harley, and I; the first time since his stabbing.  Mr. Secretary went away; but I stayed till nine, and made Mr. Harley show me his breast, and tell all the story; and I showed him the Archbishop of Dublin’s letter, and defended him effectually.  We were all in mighty good humour.  Lord Keeper and I left them together, and I walked here after nine two miles, and I found a parson drunk fighting with a seaman, and Patrick and I were so wise to part them, but the seaman followed him to Chelsea, cursing at him, and the parson slipped into a house, and I know no more.  It mortified me to see a man in my coat so overtaken.  A pretty scene for one that just came from sitting with the Prime Ministers!  I had no money in my pocket, and so could not be robbed.  However, nothing but Mr. Harley shall make me take such a journey again.  We don’t yet know who will be President in Lord Rochester’s room.  I measured, and found that the penknife would have killed Mr. Harley if it had gone but half the breadth of my thumb-nail lower, so near was he to death.  I was so curious as to ask him what were his thoughts while they were carrying him home in the chair.  He said he concluded himself a dead man.  He will not allow that Guiscard gave him the second stab; though my Lord Keeper, who is blind, and I that was not there, are positive in it.  He wears a plaster still as broad as half a crown.  Smoke how wide the lines are, but, faith, I don’t do it on purpose:  but I have changed my side in this new Chelsea bed, and I do not know how, methinks, but it is so unfit, and so awkward, never saw the like.