here in town we are all fond of, and about a year or two come from the University, one Harrison,[12] a little pretty fellow, with a great deal of wit, good sense, and good nature; has written some mighty pretty things; that in your 6th Miscellanea,[13] about the Sprig of an Orange, is his:  he has nothing to live on but being governor to one of the Duke of Queensberry’s[14] sons for forty pounds a year.  The fine fellows are always inviting him to the tavern, and make him pay his club.  Henley[15] is a great crony of his:  they are often at the tavern at six or seven shillings reckoning, and he always makes the poor lad pay his full share.  A colonel and a lord were at him and me the same way to-night:  I absolutely refused, and made Harrison lag behind, and persuaded him not to go to them.  I tell you this, because I find all rich fellows have that humour of using all people without any consideration of their fortunes; but I will see them rot before they shall serve me so.  Lord Halifax is always teasing me to go down to his country house, which will cost me a guinea to his servants, and twelve shillings coach-hire; and he shall be hanged first.  Is not this a plaguy silly story?  But I am vexed at the heart; for I love the young fellow, and am resolved to stir up people to do something for him:  he is a Whig, and I will put him upon some of my cast Whigs; for I have done with them; and they have, I hope, done with this kingdom for our time.  They were sure of the four members for London above all places, and they have lost three in the four.[16] Sir Richard Onslow,[17] we hear, has lost for Surrey; and they are overthrown in most places.  Lookee, gentlewomen, if I write long letters, I must write you news and stuff, unless I send you my verses; and some I dare not; and those on the “Shower in London” I have sent to the Tatler, and you may see them in Ireland.  I fancy you will smoke me in the Tatler I am going to write; for I believe I have told you the hint.  I had a letter sent me tonight from Sir Matthew Dudley, and found it on my table when I came in.  Because it is extraordinary, I will transcribe it from beginning to end.  It is as follows:  “Is the Devil in you?  Oct. 13, 1710.”  I would have answered every particular passage in it, only I wanted time.  Here is enough for to-night, such as it is, etc.

14.  Is that tobacco at the top of the paper,[18] or what?  I do not remember I slobbered.  Lord, I dreamt of Stella, etc., so confusedly last night, and that we saw Dean Bolton[19] and Sterne[20] go into a shop:  and she bid me call them to her, and they proved to be two parsons I know not; and I walked without till she was shifting, and such stuff, mixed with much melancholy and uneasiness, and things not as they should be, and I know not how:  and it is now an ugly gloomy morning.—­At night.  Mr. Addison and I dined with Ned Southwell, and walked in the Park; and at the Coffee-house I found