and solicit early for it.  The bustle about your Mayor I had before, as I told you, from the Archbishop of Dublin.  Was Raymond not come till May 18?  So he says fine things of me?  Certainly he lies.  I am sure I used him indifferently enough; and we never once dined together, or walked, or were in any third place; only he came sometimes to my lodgings, and even there was oftener denied than admitted.—­What an odd bill is that you sent of Raymond’s!  A bill upon one Murry in Chester, which depends entirely not only upon Raymond’s honesty, but his discretion; and in money matters he is the last man I would depend on.  Why should Sir Alexander Cairnes[24] in London pay me a bill, drawn by God knows who, upon Murry in Chester?  I was at Cairnes’s, and they can do no such thing.  I went among some friends, who are merchants, and I find the bill must be sent to Murry, accepted by him, and then returned back, and then Cairnes may accept or refuse it as he pleases.  Accordingly I gave Sir Thomas Frankland the bill, who has sent it to Chester, and ordered the postmaster there to get it accepted, and then send it back, and in a day or two I shall have an answer; and therefore this letter must stay a day or two longer than I intended, and see what answer I get.  Raymond should have written to Murry at the same time, to desire Sir Alexander Cairnes to have answered such a bill, if it come.  But Cairnes’s clerks (himself was not at home) said they had received no notice of it, and could do nothing; and advised me to send to Murry.—­I have been six weeks to-day at Chelsea, and you know it but just now.  And so Dean ------ thinks I write the Medley.  Pox of his judgment!  It is equal to his honesty.  Then you han’t seen the Miscellany yet?[25] Why, ’tis a four-shilling book:  has nobody carried it over?—­No, I believe Manley[26] will not lose his place; for his friend[27] in England is so far from being out that he has taken a new patent since the Post Office Act; and his brother Jack Manley[28] here takes his part firmly; and I have often spoken to Southwell in his behalf, and he seems very well inclined to him.  But the Irish folks here in general are horribly violent against him.  Besides, he must consider he could not send Stella wine if he were put out.  And so he is very kind, and sends you a dozen bottles of wine at A time, and you win eight shillings at A time; and how much do you lose?  No, no, never one syllable about that, I warrant you.—­Why, this same Stella is so unmerciful a writer, she has hardly left any room for Dingley.  If you have such summer there as here, sure the Wexford waters are good by this time.  I forgot what weather we had May 6th; go look in my journal.  We had terrible rain the 24th and 25th, and never a drop since.  Yes, yes, I remember Berested’s bridge; the coach sosses up and down as one goes that way, just as at Hockley-in-the-Hole.[29] I never impute any illness or health I have to good